My Soul. . .My Choice: Part Two

Chapter Four: Hitting the Wall

Jason held his breath when the unnatural storm blew up and the vortex appeared. Ares had shown up a couple of hours before, eyes flashing with fury, ordering the ex-King to watch his mouth or he'd be sorry. Jason, just as angry, and far more worried, had stood his ground, wanting to know what Ares was going to do to ensure the balance in the universe, or was he just going to stand around giving useless orders? Ares had gritted his teeth as he glowered at Jason, and rolled his eyes, breathing deeply to control his temper. Oh, how he wanted to blast this idiot mortal moron away. But, Zeus had been pretty clear when he'd sent Ares to sort out the problem that the simple option wasn't allowed.

"Fine," the god had finally muttered, turning to face the vortex. Just before he leapt into it, he turned to Jason, pointing a finger at him as he shouted, "And you, you just SHUT UP until I get back. Understand?"

Seething, Jason had nodded and he'd been pacing about ever since, hands on his hips, a scowl on his face, waiting. Ares was not the god he'd have chosen, given the option, to sort this out. The arrogant god was more likely to make things worse or even align with the Sovereign to take over both worlds. The fact that the vortex had closed again shortly after Ares had disappeared into it didn't make him feel any better. Hercules' philosophy was that prayer was a waste of time and gods only complicated things. Biting his lip, Jason had to wonder if his friend didn't have the right of it.

So, he heaved a breath when the vortex began to swirl, his eyes narrowed as he watched closely, cursing softly when nothing seemed to happen at first. And, then, Ares blew out, his fist securely clamped on the arm of a much smaller man, blond. Jason frowned as their momentum bore them closer.

"By the gods," he murmured on a surprised breath. "Iolaus?" But, then he realized who he was looking at. The pointed hat graced with a pompom and the curled toes of the shoes. It was the Jester. Hercules and Iolaus had told him about Iolaus' twin a couple of years ago. He lowered his head a moment, the force of hope had been so sudden, and strong, the disappointment keen. But, then he looked up, catching hold of the Jester as they came close, holding him up when he stumbled.

The Jester looked up and saw Jason and blanched. Then remembered this wasn't his Jason. This was all going to take a lot of getting used to.

The ex-king turned to Ares, bellowing over the roar of the wind, "Where are they? Why didn't you bring them back?"

Ares narrowed his eyes at the tone, but held off throwing a lightning bolt, as he shouted back, turning to point at the vortex, "Hold your horses, they're right behind us!"

And, sure enough, Jason saw Hercules tumble out of the swirling void and thought he'd glimpsed the hunter behind the demigod, but then the image of his friend faded. Not sure if he'd been seeing things, Jason had to assume Iolaus was with Hercules. The demigod would never have come back without him. Heaving a sigh of relief, he went to meet his friend as the vortex shrank and closed behind him. Grinning in relief, Jason pounded the demigod's shoulder in welcome. "What happened in there?" he demanded.

"Long story," Hercules replied, clapping him on the shoulder, but he smiled to indicate the news was good. "I'll tell you all about it later."

"Sure you will," Jason grumbled, wishing he could hear Iolaus' version.

Hercules moved forward to join Ares and the Jester, who was standing silently, watching everything, looking like he might bolt at any minute.

Ares rolled his shoulders, glad this bit of nonsense was over. He had better things to do than shut up a raging, aging hero and trip the light fantastic to another world. There were wars to be fought! Hands on his hips, glaring at Jason, his brother, the ridiculous, quivering double of the runt and the runt's ghost, he found he didn't have anything to say to any of them and took off in a flash of smoke.

The Jester jumped a little at Ares' sudden departure, but held his ground. Hercules continued to his side, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder, as he said, "Welcome to our world! This is Jason, our good friend and my father-in-law. Jason, this is Iolaus. We persuaded him to come back with us."

"Good," Jason replied, nodding, holding out an arm, which the Jester took awkwardly. "I'm glad to meet you."

Swallowing, the Jester tried to smile in response, but he simply looked pale and very, very nervous, as he replied, babbling a little in a voice that made the ex-king's heart ache, "Thank you. It's nice to meet you, too. To know you're a friend. . .in my world, you used to be. . .a friend, that is. . .but there was a lot of trouble years ago, and you left, to become a pirate. I mean, your double left. . .well, you know what I mean. . .don't you?"

"Yes," Jason assured him, his eyes kind as he smiled gently. "I understand." He'd heard enough about the other world from Iolaus to have some idea of the ghastly life this version of his old friend had endured. Looking back to Hercules to include him, he continued, "Well, let's head back home, open a large flask of wine, and the two of you can bring me up to date."

Iolaus stood a little to the side, listening, once again feeling completely invisible.

Maybe because he was.

********

Hours later, the fire having burned low in the hearth, the wine well consumed along with a fine old cheese and reasonably fresh bread, Jason guided a decidedly tipsy and somewhat more relaxed Jester to his bed. It wasn't as if it was a large cottage however, and the bed was the one Iolaus had always used when he was home, in Hercules' old room.

To his credit, the warrior's soul didn't mind. . .at least not much. He felt a peculiar sadness again, knowing he'd never need that bed and an odd twist inside that his double now made it his own. It was stupid. This had been his idea, and he was glad to help his counterpart, and he knew it wasn't as if he was being replaced, but. . .He shrugged, determined to push the odd, empty feeling away.

Hercules had been watching him, reading his face. "Do you mind?" he asked quietly.

Iolaus started a little, surprised and a bit embarrassed to have been caught out. Throughout the long evening, he'd thrown in a few comments for Hercules to add to the discussion, but the Jester had tensed up each time, looking around the room as if expecting Iolaus to leap into him at any moment. So, to help the guy relax, Iolaus had subsided, drifting back to the role of silent observer. Herc had flashed him a look from time to time, and Jason had included him in some comments, but mostly, it was kinda like he'd hadn't even been there. Truth be told, he'd forgotten for the moment that anyone might be watching him and hadn't been guarding his expression the way he should have.

Turning his gaze to Hercules, he shook his head, "No, not 'mind' exactly. Just feels a little odd. I'll get used to it."

Hercules nodded, wondering to himself if he would ever get used to it. "Feel like going for a walk?"

Iolaus quirked his brows as he straightened from where he'd been leaning against the stonework of the hearth, as he replied, "Sure but, it's late, Herc. If you just want to turn in, that's okay."

"No," the demigod replied, "no, I feel like getting some air."

They wandered out into the night, and stood a moment gazing up at the glittering sky. Hercules led the way around the barn and out across the field toward the forest beyond, seemingly lost in thought. After they'd walked for about half an hour, they reached a clearing near a stream where they'd often fished as kids and throughout all the years ever since. Settling onto his favourite log, Hercules looked up at Iolaus. "Tell me about him, if you don't mind," he asked. "He's so jumpy and sad. I don't know what to say to him, how to get him to relax."

Iolaus looked away, wondering if he had the right to violate a confidence that hadn't even been freely given, but taken, when he'd first invaded his twin's body and ended up with all his memories into the bargain. Shaking his head, he decided it couldn't hurt and might help. "I don't know how he survived," he started quietly, moving to sit beside Hercules on the log, leaning forward, his hands clasped between his knees. Studying the ground, he continued, "In his world, Skouros never married his mother and she was a prostitute. He grew up on the streets, mostly, living by his wits. When they were kids, he and his Hercules were friends, best friends. It's the only thing in his life that's even remotely like mine was. But Alcmene was crazy. . .mean, deliberately cruel. She hated her son and let him know it every chance she got. Zeus wasn't absent, though it might have been better if he had been. He played with his son's mind. like losing him in that maze, taunting him, tormenting him, then spoiling him, telling him he was the best, the only one the King of the Gods loved, told him he'd have to be strong to win, no matter what the cost to anyone else. And, the poor kid learned, learned to be as cruel and crazy as his parents were."

Iolaus paused, sitting back to look up at the stars. "Seeing the Sovereign through his eyes, I began to really feel sorry for the guy. He really couldn't help what he became, at least not in the Jes..er. . .my counterpart's view."

Hercules stiffened, not wanting to accept that, not wanting to think he might have ended up that way if his life had been different. "Everyone has a choice. Your twin managed to hold onto his decency," he said, his voice hard.

"Yeah," Iolaus sighed, closing his eyes, but that didn't help block out the memories he'd acquired. "The Sovereign. . .well. . .when his Iolaus left, to find his own way, unable to stomach what was happening, how the demigod was changing, the Sovereign went after him. Iolaus had learned lots of tricks to earn obols, juggling, singing, telling jokes, mimickry. It was the way he learned to survive, being so much. . .smaller than the other, rougher kids. So, he got work in comedy clubs, made his way north to the Hellespont. Jason was still a friend, then, and checked up on him from time to time, to make sure he was doing okay. In that world, Jase's father wasn't much of a king and he'd lost his throne. Jason had become a merchant seaman, and was doing okay at it, I guess. Anyway, he was there when the Sovereign caught up with Iolaus."

Again, Iolaus paused, frowning, shaking his head. "What happened then?" Hercules prodded.

"Iolaus tried to resist going back. He knew it would be a mistake, that he couldn't trust Hercules anymore, he'd changed too much. He didn't want to see it, see the terrible things he heard his best friend now did, just for amusement. But, the Sovereign wasn't taking no for an answer. He beat him, Herc. Beat him bad. Jason tried to stop him, and gotten pretty badly banged up for his efforts. That's when he turned pirate. To raid the Sovereign's ships, to make him pay the only way he had for becoming a monster. The Sovereign dragged Iolaus back to his palace in chains, told him he had a new job. A job for life. As the personal Jester to the Sovereign of all Greece. He's been beating him ever since, whipping him, torturing him, all the while calling him 'buddy', referring to Iolaus as his 'best friend'and when he's drunk, his 'only friend'."

The warrior's soul paused, sighing deeply, then continued, "Iolaus thinks he's all mixed up. That somehow, down deep, the Sovereign loves him, but wants to punish him for abandoning him and keeps punishing him because Iolaus broke the trust between them. Iolaus doesn't hate him, never did. Sometimes he pities the Sovereign. Sometimes, he gets angry, at Zeus and Alcmene for what they did to his Hercules, how they destroyed him. Sometimes he just grieves over the friend he lost and could never seem to find a way to find again. He hoped for a long time that something of his friend would resurface, but he gave up that hope a long time ago." Iolaus paused and looked up into the sky, his voice dropping to a whisper, "Even after all that, he never stopped loving Hercules. It's like Hercules was the only person he ever did love. In that world, I'm not surprised that he held so tight to the only memories he had of happiness and decency. His life has been the worst nightmare, Herc, every single day of it."

Hercules had been unconsciously clenching his fists as the story had unfolded, his anger growing toward the Sovereign. Looking down at his fists, then at Iolaus, he couldn't begin to imagine how his counterpart could have done such terrible things, used his strength so brutally, against the only person who had likely ever loved him. Gods, the man was worse than an animal, worse than the monsters he'd faced in his life. Hercules hated that someone who was his twin could willfully be so wantonly brutal and cruel. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to keep listening, knowing from Iolaus' posture and expression that there was more.

Iolaus brushed a hand over his eyes, knowing he'd be weeping if ghosts could cry. Heaving out a breath, he finished, "He's wanted to die for years, but most desperately after the revolution went bad and everyone else was killed. He was spared because he'd been wounded and presumed dead, waking on the battlefield long after the Empress' warriors had quit the field. Waking up amidst the corpses of all his friends, people who'd trusted and followed him. But he couldn't kill himself becausebecause he knew it would kill me, too. So he forced himself to endure and condemned himself for a coward, for not having the courage to end it all." Iolaus' voice cracked and he looked away. "He endured all that for me, Herc. When the Sovereign tracked him after I got away, he. . .you'd never believe what he did to Iolaus. Not once, but every single day since. Gods. . .for me."

Turning to his friend, Hercules grated, his voice harsh with his anger, "None of that was your fault."

Shaking his head slowly, Iolaus sighed. "I know that," he replied, crossing his arms, "no more than it's your fault for what the Sovereign did. It's just freaky to be tied so closely to someone you didn't even know existed, hardly ever thought about even when you did. AndI guess I feel bad that he tried so hard to live, and then I went and died anyway, without a single thought about what it would do to him. It's like I let him down."

"Well, that's a really sensible way to think about it," Hercules chided him gently. "From what he said, I'd guess he was inside that void, just by chance really, when. . .well. . .I guess that's why he's still alive. None of the normal rules seem to apply inside that never-never land."

"I guess," Iolaus replied distantly, still thinking about his twin. "We have to give him a chance, Herc. A chance for some kind of happiness. He bought the right to that a long time ago. And I owe him," he said.

Hercules studied his partner, his own anger slipping away in the face of Iolaus' worry about the Jester. "We will," he promised. "But, he's going to have to help, have to relax a little around us. I'm not going to ignore you just because he gets jumpy every time he remembers you're around."

Iolaus snorted at that. "Give him time. I haven't given him a lot of reason to trust me yet. He'll come around," he said with a certain chagrin.

Hercules nodded, and they slipped into silence for a while, each locked in their own thoughts. Finding himself gazing absently at a leaf, the demigod straightened and stretched a little. "So, you come out here every night when the rest of us are sleeping, and what, practice?"

Iolaus chuckled quietly, "Yeah, I guess you could call it that. I discovered that if I can really focus that I can, I don't know, channel energy or something and move things. Things bigger than a leaf."

"Things like a stone bench the size and weight of a boulder, and send it flying into a monster serpent," Hercules replied, one brow cocked.

"Uh huh, pretty neat, eh?" Iolaus grinned at him. "And, I'm learning that if I hold the thought, the focus, on myself, I can be a sort of wall, for a moment anyway. It's weird. I can't really explain it."

Hercules studied his friend, noting the pleased grin, understanding what it meant to Iolaus to be able to do something, be able to have some impact. Help. But "Iolausback in the maze, after the trick with the bench, you looked unsteady. Pale. What was that about?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

His buddy shrugged unconcerned, waving it off. "Oh that? That's nothing. Passes off in a minute or so. I've tried to understand it, but I don't really. I think that as invisible as I am, I must still have some kind of energy, and when I transfer it to do something besides just walk around, well. . .I can feel it. Happens all the time. Nothing to worry about."

"Uh huh," the demigod replied thoughtfully. 'Happens all the time. Nothing to worry about.' He hoped that was true. But wondered if he shouldn't check with someone who knew a little more about these things.

First chance he got, Hercules resolved that he and Hades were going to have a little chat.

********

They discovered the next morning that the Jester was a pretty fair cook. . .better than fair. Down right great! He'd gotten up early to prowl around the kitchen, feeling diffident but determined to make himself useful. By the time Jason and Hercules got up, the enticing fragrances of baked bread and sizzling sausages wafted about the cottage. As soon as the other world's Iolaus knew his new friends were awake, he poured out an egg, cream, herb and cheese mixture onto a hot skillet over the flames of the hearth, tossing in some chopped up mushrooms for good measure.

When the two heroes entered the kitchen, he was serving up the delectable breakfast, setting plates on the table he'd covered with a linen cloth he'd found in a cupboard, along with cups of freshly squeezed oranges he'd picked from the orchard out back. Other fruits had also been gathered and filled a basket in the centre of the table.

"Well, now," Jason remarked with a broad grin, rubbing his hands together as he took his place, looking up at the new Iolaus with a twinkle in his eyes, "I guess we'll keep you! The other guy never cooked like this!"

Iolaus snorted from his position leaning on the hearth, unoffended, knowing Jason was pulling his chain as much as he was making the other Iolaus feel wanted and welcomed. "Other guy!" he snorted again, then grinned at Hercules. "He's been up for hours, prowling around, fixing this feast for you guys. I hope you enjoy it!"

Settling in to his own place, Herc raised his cup of juice to salute the chef, and then his invisible friend, before he drank. The Jester looked toward the hearth, an unreadable expression in his eyes, then turned to take his own place. "I just hope everything tastes alright," he murmured, eyes cast down. "It's always tricky using someone else's skillets, to know how they hold the heat." His voice faltered away.

Hercules smiled warmly as he reached for the bread, to break it apart and share it around. "Still warm," he commented, pleased. "This is great, Iolaus and if you know enough to appreciate the difference between skillets, something none of us have the skill to worry about, well, you must be as good as any professional cook."

Iolaus drawled from the corner, "Probably a whole lot better, if Falafel is any example."

Hercules grinned in response as he took his first bite and sighed with pleasure, making a kind of chorus of unfeigned delight with Jason. The Jester looked up then, his eyes first hopeful, then pleased.

"That's it. You're the cook," Jason remarked, digging in. "Permanently, as far as I'm concerned."

Smiling tentatively, the Jester bobbed his head, feeling happier than he could ever remember.

*********

They stayed close to the cottage and the nearby fields and woods for the next couple of weeks. Although they didn't say anything to the Jester, they were all a little afraid of how people would react to him when they first met him. Either they'd think he was the ghost of Iolaus or the demon Dahok returned to take revenge. Neither reaction was likely to reassure the anxious man.

Jason and Hercules took turns heading into town and chatting up neighbours in the area, to explain to them who this Iolaus was, so by the time they finally decided to take the chance of him being seen in town, most people took him in stride. But, just in case, they'd taken the precaution of warning the Jester that some folks, strangers in town for example, traveling merchants and craftsmen, might mistake him.

It was a good thing they'd done so.

They'd been wandering around the market square, the Jester admiring the abundance of goods and foods on display, the peaceful nature of the town and the good-natured teasing between his friends and the strangers he was meeting, when he inadvertently bumped into someone when turning around too quickly.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," the Jester apologized, wincing a little in unconscious reflex, waiting for the kind of reaction he'd've gotten in his own world.

The stranger turned, at first unconcerned, until he saw who'd he'd banged into. Paling to a ghostly gray, his eyes widening, the slightly balding traveling salesman gobbled a bit as he lifted a hand to point at the Jester. "Iolaus?" he finally squeaked, his voice an unlikely mixture of hope and horror.

Stiffening a little, the Jester shook his head quickly. "No, I'm not who you think I am. I just look like him," he explained, his words almost tumbling all over themselves. "Uh, did you know him?"

Blowing out a breath, trying to get his trembling under control, the stranger replied, "Yes. . .yes I did. Very well, in fact. I'm Hercules' biographer. Salmoneus is the name. My, my, my," he continued patting his heart, "you gave me quite a start!"

"Sorry," mumbled the Jester, looking around, then pointing, "Hercules is over there."

Turning to follow the gesture, Salmoneus nodded and smiled, "So he is! Excellent! I was hoping I might find him here, visiting Jason. you know, the ex-king of Corinth, Captain of the Argo, the man who led the Argonauts to bring back the Golden Fleece." He looked back at the uncanny double of Iolaus, to see if the man was impressed that he knew so many important people.

The Jester smiled a little diffidently. "I know, well, at least, I know Jason. I'm staying at his place," he explained.

"Are you?" Salmoneus replied, a look of speculation blossoming in his eyes. "Are you sure you're not Iolaus?" After all, it wouldn't be the first time the warrior came back from the dead. He scented a story here could make a tidy sum!

"Oh, he's Iolaus, alright," Hercules said from behind his 'biographer'. "Just not the one you mean. The one you remember is over there, with Jason, looking at the swords."

"What? REALLY?" Salmoneus turned to scan the crowd, frowning when he spotted Jason but no Iolaus. "I don't see him" he muttered.

"No, you can't see him. He's a ghost," Hercules explained, sharing a conspiratorial wink with the Jester as he waited for Sal's reaction.

"A GHOST! You're not serious!" Salmoneus protested, turning to look up at Hercules, partly indignant, partly disbelieving, partly hurt to be teased this way. "That's not nice, Hercules. For a minute there, I really hoped he was back."

Suddenly contrite, Hercules apologized, "I'm sorry. I guess it's a shock. I've gotten used to it. Iolaus helped me defeat Dahok, and then refused to go back to the Other Side. So, we've been traveling together again" He sighed a little, looking across the busy square at his friend. "It's different, I'll admit. Hard when no one can see or hear him but me. Lonely for him."

"Oh dear," Sal sighed, sympathetic as he again cast his eyes in the direction of Jason. "That's really very sad, isn't it? Such a fine man, very sad. You must tell me all about it, Hercules, so that I can write the story. Others should know."

Hercules looked down at Sal, appreciating the sympathy, knowing it was genuinebut wondering at the persistent avarice that plagued the man's soul. Sal just couldn't seem to help himself. No matter what it was, so far as Sal was concerned, there was a way to turn it into a profit. But, maybe the idea of writing up this story wasn't such a bad idea, after all. The faster folks learned what had happened, and who this new Iolaus was, the easier it would be on all of them.

The other Iolaus had been watching and listening. His counterpart had helped to defeat the demon he'd heard about? Refused to return to the Other Side? And clearly had been someone this stranger mourned for all his interest in turning the news to his own gain. Well, it wasn't really a surprise, and it made sense of the jumbled memories he'd acquired when they'd merged together. His twin had been a hero, after all. Still was, considering how he'd help defeat the Sovereign and Nebula, even if he had needed a body to do some of it. Someone everyone had admired for good reason. Not like him.

Hercules held back a sigh at the thoughts he could read so well on that so familiar, yet infinitely strange, face. Well, at least he hadn't twitched and jumped as soon as Iolaus had been mentioned this time. They were making progress. Gathering up his friends, he guided them through the crowd to join Jason and his partner and to find a tavern.

It would take a while to give Sal all the details he could ever want for his new scroll and they were bound to get thirsty with all the talking.

*********

The last they saw of Sal, he was scurrying off to buy a large roll of parchment. Hercules had chuckled and Iolaus had just rolled his eyes. That had been two days ago. They'd done a little fishing since, giving the Jester lots of time to get acclimatized to his new world. But, Iolaus was getting restless. It wasn't that he didn't like hanging around with Jason. Some of his best memories were in that cottage, and in the forests round about.

But, it also reminded him constantly that he wasn't really there anymore. He was trying not to let it get to him. It had only been a few weeks and he knew he had to adjust. He'd chosen this existence, after all. And, he wasn't sorry. It was just so hard to not be able to, well, actually fish. Or have a mug of ale. Or join completely in the conversation, any conversation. He took to roaming more and more alone. It was easier somehow.

That evening he'd gone out during the dinner, lightly grilled fish with panfried zucchini, tomatoes and mushrooms, baked eggplant and crisp white wine, just slipping away when they were all laughing about how the Jester had wrestled with a particularly stubborn fish only to haul in an old boot. As he tromped over the fields, he reflected that he was glad the Jester seemed to be settling in. . .then castigated himself for the nickname he'd given his double. Iolaus. His name was Iolaus. He should think of him by his name. 'My name,' he thought. 'My face, my voice.' It was disconcerting, more than he'd thought it would be. Stopping by the lake, near the old fort he and Herc had built from stone when they'd been kids, he tried to distract himself by concentrating on skimming stones across the surface of the water. He was getting better at it, but nothing as good as he'd been before.

Sighing, he sat down on the bank. 'Am I jealous?' he wondered. 'Maybe' he was honest enough to allow. 'Get over it!' he sternly told himself. 'That poor guy could live another fifty years and not have the life you had and his memories are a whole lot worse.' Biting his lip, he realized it wasn't just the Jester. . .Iolaus! It was everything.

And, now, he really was beginning to regret his decision about not going back into his body. The other guy seemed to be able to wander around without people stoning him. And, when Iolaus looked at him, he didn't see Dahok,just the face that used to be his. He rubbed the back of his neck and pushed fingers through his curls. Too late now. Now and forever.

Gods. . .it was going to be a long time.

"Stop it!" he growled aloud, annoyed with himself, with his despicable self-pity.

"Stop what?" Hercules asked from behind him.

Iolaus jumped and whirled around. "Gods! Don't sneak up on me like that!" he complained.

"What? You're afraid of ghosts?" Hercules teased.

"Maybe. They aren't all nice guys like me, you know," Iolaus griped.

"I know. Seems to me we've created a few really nasty ones over the years," his friend replied, taking a seat beside him on the ground. "Stop what?" he asked again.

Iolaus looked up at him, but his eyes fell away and he looked back out over the lake, glimmering rose now as the sun went down. "Nothing important," he mumbled. "How'd you find me?"

The demigod shrugged as he too studied the lake. "I didn't really. . .just thought you might have come out here. Thought I'd check and got lucky."

"You don't have to chase after me, you know," Iolaus informed him, a little stiffly.

"I know," Hercules replied blandly, cutting his friend a quick sideways look, not missing the signs of tension. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. . .won't change anything," Iolaus replied, pulling his knees up and crossing his arms over them.

"Okay," the demigod replied and sat silently, apparently relaxed, enjoying the evening. But he knew that stance well, the all closed up, 'you can't make me talk' posture and expression. Waiting, he knew Iolaus would talk in his own good time.

Iolaus made a face as he shook his head. It was the 'sure, fine, whatever you want,' silent treatment. But, he knew Herc wouldn't leave until he'd spilled whatever had caused him to virtually sneak away, like he'd been doing too many times lately.

"I'm sorry," he finally sighed. "I don't want to. . .to give you reason to worry about me. You really don't have to. . .I'm working on it. I'll. . .get used to this."

Hercules bowed his head for a moment, nodding slowly. Turning to Iolaus, he asked, "How are you going to get used to it? When?"

Irritated, Iolaus shrugged. "I don't know, give me a century or two. What's the rush?"

"Okay," the demigod replied again. "However long it takes. Whatever I can do to make it easier."

Growling low in his throat, Iolaus stood to pace, restless, wanting to hit something, touch something.

Frowning, Hercules watched him, wondering what he could do or say. 'Not much,' he decided. "Are you sorry?" he asked, not wanting to, afraid of the answer, but needing to know.

Iolaus stopped pacing to lean against the tree, taking care to not lean through it. It was a good exercise in balance. Just trying to appear 'normal', look 'normal', if only to Hercules, was an effort sometimes. 'Am I sorry? About what? Being dead? Being a ghost? Bringing the Jester back with us?' he wondered just exactly what the question was about, and decided it was probably about all of it.

"No. Yes. Gods, Herc. . .I don't know," he sighed. "I'm not sorry to be here. . .not at all. There's no way I'd ever want to go back to Elysium. Not for anything. But. . .I get tired of being invisible, you know. It's easier just to come out here, sometimes, where I can forget because there's no one out here who can't see me or hear me." Sighing, he shrugged, "I guess I'm not a very good ghost, that's all. But I'll get used to it, eventually."

"We could leave him here with Jason. It has to be hard on you, seeing him all the time, seeing him do things you can't do" Hercules murmured.

"Nah, that wouldn't be right," Iolaus replied, skimming another small stone across the lake. "He'd feel like he was imposing on Jason, that he was a burden on us. I don't want him to feel like that. I'll work it out. Don't worry."

"He's not as nervous about you anymore," the demigod observed.

Iolaus smiled at that. "I noticed. I guess he's beginning to trust that I won't just jump in and take him over. Keep reassuring him that I won't do that again." More softly, he added, "Not even knowing how good it felt, to fight like that again, to feel. . .I'd never do that to him again."

Hercules nodded, looked away over the horizon. 'A century or two' Iolaus had said. Maybe.

But, somehow, the demigod didn't think a thousand years would be enough. Iolaus needed a body. This half-life wasn't good enough. Not nearly good enough.

Sighing, as he looked up into the darkening sky, he wondered if there was anything he could do about that. Any way he could bargain to make Iolaus whole.

********

"Told ya," Ares said, crossing his arms and cutting Zeus a hard look. "It's starting already. Won't be long now before my baby brother comes whining for a favour."

"Hmmm," Zeus reflected, stroking his beard.

"And once good old Hercules realizes his buddy is doing himself no good, pushing his energy reserves to the limit, well, that's when it's going to get really interesting," Ares continued, pushing, knowing he was getting under his father's skin. "I told you."

"Yes, I remember what you told me," Zeus replied a little testily as he flashed away.

The God of War grinned to himself. The old guy really hated to have to pay attention to mortal affairs, preferred to think things would always work out on their own. Didn't like problems. Didn't like 'interfering' thought it set a bad example for the rest of them. It was like a free pass. Every time Zeus broke one of his own rules, everybody else got the chance to interfere to their hearts' content. Annoyed the hell out the King of the Gods.

Chuckling, amusing himself with various ideas of the kind of 'interference' he'd like to engage in, Ares figured it wouldn't be long now, certainly not so long as a century, however fast one would fly by.

Those two guys just didn't have that kind of patience.

*********

Iolaus might have thought he'd just slipped away, but for a ghost, his presence wasn't quite as ephemeral as he'd thought. Hercules hadn't been the only one to notice when he was gone. The other two men did as well, though indirectly, it's true. They'd grown accustomed to the way Hercules routinely checked on his buddy, his eyes going to wherever Iolaus was every few minutes and the others almost always knew pretty much where the spirit was at any point in time. So, when Hercules had glanced up, frowned, then looked around, and frowned some more, they didn't need to be told that Iolaus had disappeared again.

Though Hercules didn't say anything, thinking he'd not concern them, he was distracted for the rest of the meal, and when he muttered something about taking a walk as soon as it was over, they almost tripped over one another to say what a good idea that was. But, he was already heading outside and didn't notice.

The Jester and Jason sighed simultaneously and then Jason chuckled ruefully. "It's odd not to see him and yet know when he isn't there, isn't it?" he asked.

Nodding, the other Iolaus stood and began to clear the table. Getting up to help him, Jason studied the other man thoughtfully. "Does it really bother you so much to have him around?" he asked.

Startled, Iolaus looked around at him. "I didn't know it showed!" he said, mortified.

"Oh yes," Jason assured him. "Not that Hercules minds that much, nor do I suspect does Iolaus. Though, you seem to be getting used to the idea."

Sighing, the Jester filled a large basin with water from the barrel in the kitchen and set the dirty dishes into it. "I. . .well. . .it's just that, well, a lot of things, I guess. I feel bad that he's dead. He. . .well, I could tell from his memories that he's someone I'd respect a lot."

"His memories?" repeated Jason, confused. "How would you know anything about his memories?"

"Well, when they first arrived in my world, a fight broke out with the Sovereign and the Empress almost immediately and, well, when Iolaus took over my body the first time, I was too terrified to even know who or what had done that to me. But, the second time, I was prepared, and, well, I could sense his memories, his thoughts, feelings. He hates being a ghost, you know. Really hates it." Iolaus explained, washing the plates and setting them on the counter, where Jason picked them up to dry and put away.

"He took over your body? Twice?" Jason exclaimed. "That doesn't sound like Iolaus."

"I know. I could tell he felt badly about it. There wasn't much choice at the time. Once I'd calmed down, I realized that," the Jester allowed. "But, I think he still thinks it bothers me. It doesn't."

"But the fact that he hates being a ghost does bother you, doesn't it?" Jason probed, wanting to understand.

Nodding, Iolaus replied, "Yes, it does. It's not right, not that he's here, I mean. I can understand why he wouldn't go back to your Underworld. It's not right that he's dead at all. Or that being here, can't be, I don't know, really here." 'And I am,' he thought to himself, miserably.

Jason chewed his lip, scratched his cheek as he wondered, "Is part of what bothers you the idea that he might resent that you're alive when he isn't?"

"Yes!" Iolaus snapped, surprising himself with his vehemence, slapping his hands into the water. Not looking at Jason, he admitted, "Why wouldn't that bother him. It bothers me."

"It's not your fault that he's dead. You shouldn't feel guilty for still being alive," Jason murmured quietly.

Turning to face the ex-king, Iolaus blurted, "Why not? Why shouldn't I feel guilty? He was a great man, a hero helped all kinds of people, killed monsters! Why should he be dead and somebody as worthless as me still be alive?" His face was white with strain, his eyes haunted. Looking away, he mumbled, "I wanted to die so badly, I sometimes wonder if just wanting it so much was what got him killed."

"Stop that!" Jason growled, taking the Jester by the arm, forcing the smaller man to look up at him. "Iolaus wouldn't ever want you to think something so ridiculous! That demon Dahok killed him, not your thoughts! Gods...I know enough about what your world was like to know it was Tartarus. Both Hercules and Iolaus can only be glad to have gotten you out of there! Glad that you have a chance for a decent life! Don't blow it by feeling a guilt that's not yours to bear!"

"But" the Jester tried to object.

"No 'buts'!" Jason commanded, not realizing in his frustration how much he still sounded and acted like the king he once was. "Look, I know it's hard. We all wish he was completely whole. But, he's not. We're lucky to have him back at all. But don't you see? He's trying to give you the space to get comfortable by giving up what little space he has. For his sake, if not your own, you have got to get over this morbid sense of guilt! It's not right, not for either of you! You're in a new world. You have a chance to have a good life. Take it! Be glad for it and both of them, me too, for that matter, will only ever be glad for you."

Swallowing, the Jester stared at Jason, then looked away. Breathing heavily, feeling sick that his behaviours had only made things more difficult for his counterpart, he licked his lips and pushed his fingers through his hair. Jason was right. . .he'd been acting like the fool he'd been for so many years he'd all but forgotten how to be anything else. Damn it! Sighing, he nodded, and straightened his shoulders. Well, that would change as of now. Steeling himself to look Jason in the eye, he said solemnly, "I am glad of it. I've never been happier than I've been these last few weeks. I should have made sure all of you knew how grateful I am."

Shaking his head, Jason smiled at him then. "Don't be grateful," he said gently. "That's not at all necessary. You don't owe any of us anything. Just enjoy having this chance. Okay?"

Smiling tentatively in return, the Jester nodded, as he replied, "Okay, I'll try."

Jason snorted, knowing it wasn't easy for the other man to let go of feelings that pretty much defined who he was, and that this was as good as he was going to get. Clapping Iolaus' shoulder, he chuckled, "Well, I guess that'll do for now."

*********

The summons found them the next day, the messenger having heard Hercules was in Thebes. It was from the Headmaster at the Academy, a man named, Elias, and it indicated the demigod was needed there, urgently. "Well, Jason, this has been fun, but looks like duty calls," Hercules looked again at the note, wondering what could be so urgent at the Academy.

"Hmmm," Jason murmured, then clearly came to a silent decision. "I think I'll tag along. No reason not to, and I'm curious, too." Turning to the Jester, he studied the man thoughtfully, then made another decision. "Iolaus, we'll be traveling fast. You'll be more comfortable if you exchange those boots of yours for old ones in the closet in your room. There're some clothes in there, too, that'll fit you. Not new, but not as heavy in this heat as what you're wearing," he said matter-of-factly.

But, the Jester blanched a bit anyway. Take Iolaus' things? Unconsciously, his gaze turned to the empty wall by the hearth.

"Tell him Jason's right, Herc. Tell him I don't mind," Iolaus said quietly, understanding and appreciating the question in the other man's eyes, the unspoken request for permission to make use of clothes and boots he no longer needed.

Hercules relayed the message, also trying for an easy tone, but he found it hard. The Jester nodded a little, then surprised them all when he asked, still looking at that empty place by the hearth, "Would you come back to the room with me? Show me what you think would be best? If you can toss a stone bench, I guess you can pull out a shirt or a pair of pants."

Iolaus grinned at that, it was a nice courtesy. For an answer, he strode down the hall and pushed open the door to the bedchamber. Sharing clothing, giving it away personally was a lot different than feeling as if it was just being taken. When they heard it creak, Jason observed with a chuckle, "Well, get a move on. Sounds like he's waiting for you and we should be going."

With an uncertain smile, the Jester headed down the hall. When he entered the chamber, he found a pair of boots lying on the floor outside the open closet door, a pair of old but sturdy pants piled on the bed and a blue cotton shirt was wafting through the air to join them. "Thanks," muttered the Jester as he sat to pull off his boots with the elaborate curled tips. Exchanging the clothing, he found Jason had been right. Iolaus' fit him perfectly, even down to the worn boots that were a lot more comfortable than his own.

Standing silently for a moment, he looked around the room, not sure now where Iolaus was. "I guess this isn't easy for you, but I want you to know that I appreciate everything, all of it. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't said I should come. And, in case you think I'm still upset about you using me to fight the Empress, well, I'm not. Not at all. In fact, I'm glad there was a way I could help, since I'm not much of a fighter on my own. Don't. . .don't ever think you make me nervous. I make me nervous. I jump at my own shadow. But, if. . .uh. . .well, you need to move in again, if there's a fight or something, you don't need to ask. And well, if sometimes you just want to be in a body that could as easily be yours. . .I won't mind."

Bobbing his head, embarrassed, the Jester turned to quickly fold his own clothes and put them away. Then, he headed out to join the others.

Iolaus stood there, stunned by what had just been offered to him, touched beyond words by such sensitive, incredible, generosity. The Jester had to know how much he hated this, more than anyone else could. He must have felt it when Iolaus had moved in the last time. Then, he chuckled a bit, murmuring to himself, "I offer to let you wear my clothes and you offer to let me wear your body. What a guy."

Looking around, he spotted one of his old, good sized packs in the corner. Hooking it mentally, he dragged it out into the hall behind him and on into the kitchen. The others stared down at it confused as he wafted it up to the table. But, when a small jar of herbs joined it, and then a frying pan, Jason broke out laughing. "Trust you, Iolaus, to remember the food and to make sure our master chef here has the stuff he needs on the trip!"

*********

Even moving at a steady clip, it took two days to cross over the hills, and down along the isthmus past Corinth. But, it had been uneventful, no trouble. Until they were within a mile or so of the Academy and were ambushed by about twenty masked, black garbed men. The attackers knew how to fight, but were no match for the seasoned warriors they'd taken on. Jason and Hercules slipped without thinking into the back to back stance, while Iolaus pulled weapons from their hands, and tripped them into one another. Even the Jester got in a few good licks, swinging his heavy pack with fear-induced desperation.

As fast as it had started, it was over, the bandits melting into the forest on either side of the road.

Blowing out a breath, Jason observed dryly, "Quite a welcoming party or do you think it was just a coincidence?"

Shaking his head, still watching the forest warily, Hercules replied, "I don't believe in coincidences. We're too close to the Academy. That was a welcoming party, alright."

"More like a 'warning off' party, if you ask me," the Jester mumbled, examining his pack to see if he'd damaged it.

"Around here," Jason replied, looping an arm around the smaller man's shoulders, "that amounts to the same thing! Oh, by the way, Iolaus," he added, looking around, "nice moves. Scared the Tartarus out of them!"

For a moment, he could almost imagine he'd heard the delighted giggle.

********

Elias was already packed and ready to go by the time they arrived at the Academy, had been for days. He'd had enough, more than enough of the young turks who lorded over the other students and intimidated the whole staff. Had enough of feeling like a fool, a failure. Enough of being afraid for his life. Those youths were animals, wild and dangerous. He'd expelled them, for all the good it had done. They'd refused to go, had laughed at him! Oh, they might be the sons of wealthy men, spoiled, arrogant, too used to getting their own way, reasons, not excuses for their behaviour. Nothing excused cruelty. Well, it was enough and he was going.

But, he couldn't bring himself to go until there was someone who could deal with this, with them, and protect the other students. He had enough pride left, enough integrity for that. So, he'd sent for Hercules with a grim surge of satisfaction as he imagined how the hero would make short work of these young villains. Having imagined it, he didn't feel the need to stay and watch.

He'd had a watch kept for the hero's approach, and when the young student raced in to tell him the demigod was at the gates, he practically leapt over his desk to run to meet his saviour. Skidding out of the door at the top of the stone steps in the front of the building, he came to an abrupt halt, surprised to see Jason as well and shocked to his boots to see Iolaus. Could it really be? But, his eyes narrowed as he descended the steps. Something was different. The blond warrior wasn't wearing his usual attire, or his sword. And, he moved differently, as if anxious, his darting eyes scanning the grounds, taking in every thing and every one, not least of whom the swaggering youths dressed in black over by the stables.

Bringing his gaze back to Hercules, Elias held out his arms in relieved welcome, drawing the demigod's attention back to him. The tall hero had also been thoughtfully studying the small gang of youths across the yard. "Hercules! Thank the gods you've finally come!" Elias exclaimed. "And, of course, you, too Jason, and Iolaus."

Turning to face the Headmaster, a man he'd known for years, Hercules frowned at the man's obvious state of near collapse. Deciding explanations about Iolaus could wait for the moment, he nodded, "Elias what's going on here? What's wrong?"

"What isn't?" muttered the middle-aged man as he turned to lead the way back up to his office. "Come in, I'll explain."

And, explain he did, succinctly with bitterness and self-contempt embroidering his words. "So, that's it," he concluded, reaching for the packed bags in the corner. "I leave you to it, Hercules. I wish you well as the new Headmaster!"

"What?" exclaimed the demigod, not expecting to have it all just dumped into his hands. The problem he could handle, running the school was something else again. "Elias, pleaseyou don't have to leave. This is your place. You're a good Headmaster."

"I was, once. But, I've had enough. I was a decent soldier, not a bad middle of the road officer. And, if I might say so, a good teacher. But, I'm tired and I know when I'm out of my league. If I'd've been doing my job properly, things here would never have gotten so out of control. I'm sorry, but that's it. Good luck, Hercules," he said, with as much dignity as he could muster. With a nod at Jason and Iolaus, he hefted his bags and walked out without a backward glance.

Hercules blew out a long breath as he pushed harried fingers through his hair and looked at the others. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Jason couldn't resist a grin at Hercules' discomfiture and he wasn't quite fast enough at covering it with his hand. His eyes narrowing, the demigod shook his head. "You think this is funny, Jason? Well, how amusing is this? I may be a warrior, but I have no administrative experience. You have both. Congratulations on your new job!"

"Oh, now wait a minute, Hercules," Jason started to protest, all trace of humour gone.

But, Hercules just held up a hand, staving him off. "I'll help, we'll all help, clean this mess up but you're in charge. So, what do you want done first?" he said, no room for compromise or even discussion in his tone.

Sighing, Jason looked from the demigod to Iolaus and his eyes sought the place by the window where he knew his other friend was standing. This had not been on his agenda. Teach him to tag along out of boredom with tending a garden and going to town on market day. Setting his jaw, he nodded. Well, so be it. Used to giving orders, willing to sort this out, at least until a proper Headmaster could be found, he turned first to the Iolaus from the other world. "I spotted some very young children out in the yard, younger than were allowed into the Academy when we were here. I want you to round them up, teach them what you can, and keep them safe, out of danger."

Before that Iolaus could react, he was turning back to the one he couldn't see. "And, you, I want you to do our undercover work. Those tough guys by the stable looked like they might well have been the ones who attacked us earlier. Go, listen in and see what you can find out. As soon as you've got something, let Hercules know so he can brief me."

Finally, he turned to look at Hercules, as he said crisply, "And, as for you, you're the new head of combat training and athletics. You will teach them discipline and deal with infractions. Push those spoiled brats until they stop sneaking around and push back. I'm going to go out now, with the rest of you, and read them the riot act, let them know a new regime has just begun. Then, I'm going to meet with the rest of the staff and inspect the place. We'll get together later in the staff mess and discuss what we've all found so far over dinner. Any questions?"

The Jester was regarding him with a kind of awe, never having seen Jason in full commander mode before, and though he didn't have a clue about what he was going to do with a pack of kids, he wasn't about to start asking questions at this point. He'd think of something. Jason expected him to be able to handle this and he was determined not to let his new friend down. Hercules just grinned and gestured to the door, ready to follow his new Headmaster anywhere.

Jason smirked at the teasing expression on Hercules' face, and growled, "Don't push it, buddy," as he turned to lead the way back out to the courtyard.

********

Minutes later, Jason was addressing the gathered body of staff and cadets, standing on the top of the steps looking out over all of them, Hercules on his right, Iolaus on his left and though he couldn't see him, he was pretty sure his spy was already mingling among the insolent youths loitering near the front of the gathered assembly. Hands on his hips, he spoke clearly, his voice carrying with the unmistakable note of a man well used to being obeyed without question.

"Headmaster Elias has been called away on urgent personal business, and does not believe he will be able to return anytime soon. In the meantime, I am assuming his duties. My name is Jason. I think most of you know Hercules, who I've asked to take on responsibility for combat instruction and athletics. And, this is Iolaus, who will take over the teaching of the younger cadets. I expect all of you to work with us in restoring order and discipline to this Academy. This institution has a fine reputation that I intend to see is maintained and that all of you get the education you came here for. This is Cheiron's Academy, and I'm proud to be one of its alumni. He set a standard of excellence second to none. When graduates walked out of those gates, they knew they were the best in Greece and the rest of Greece knew it, too. I honour his memory, and I expect you to do the same. Together, we'll ensure this Academy will continue to be all that he made it. You have your schedules, you know where you are to be this time of day. See to your duties. Dismissed."

One of the bold young turks called out, his voice dripping with feigned respect bordering on contempt. "Uh, allow me to say, sir, it's an honour to be under your direction. You won't have had a chance to learn this, but some of us have been helping out around here, you know, contributing to the running of the school. You can count us to keep doing that."

Jason returned the youth's arrogant gaze, bristling at the obsequious tone, and his eyes hardened. "Thank you. But, you are here to learn and I expect that to take all of your time and energy. The staff are more than capable of 'running the school'." Looking up at the rest of the gathering, he continued, "You are all equals here, students come to learn, to do your best. I'll have none thinking they enjoy superior privileges. You older boys have a responsibility to set a good example for the rest." Looking back at the youth who had spoken, he concluded, "Don't disappoint me."

With that, he turned and re-entered the building, leaving Hercules and his two Iolausii to their duties. He had his own to see to.

"Wouldn't want to disappoint you, sir," the trouble-maker sneered under his breath, eliciting snickers from his compatriots.

As the others moved briskly away to their classes and the gym, the twenty older students lingered around their leader. "We're not just going to take that, our we?" one whined.

"Don't be an idiot," their leader snorted. "That old guy'll fold just like the other one did. This place is ours."

Iolaus quirked a brow as he observed, "Well, you're either a whole lot braver, or a bigger fool, than I am. I wouldn't mess with Jason when he's in that mood."

But, they didn't hear him, and so they blithely carried on with their muttered oaths of how they had no intention of giving up the control they had exerted over the others for the past month.

As Hercules strode down the steps, he glanced at Iolaus, who nodded succinctly as he shifted a knowing, contemptuous look at the youths. "They're trouble, all right," he affirmed.

Moving in on the bullies, Hercules deliberately stood too close to the ringleader, pushing into the guy's personal sense of turf. "Your name is?" he asked, his voice cold, his eyes hard.

"Zylas," the youth replied, not backing down. "Sir."

Flicking his eyes at the others, Hercules asked, "And what do your schedules say about where you're supposed to be now?"

"In the gym, sir. We were of course just waiting for you," the kid replied, a tinge of a taunt in his voice.

"Then, let's go," the demigod replied, moving forward, which required the kid to either back down and move aside or stand and be walked over.

The kid backed down.

********

Staring out at twenty pairs of wide, very young eyes, Iolaus felt his throat go dry. Desperate, he tried to think about what he should be doing. He'd never spent much time in any classroom but the streets and he didn't have a very high opinion of what he assumed teachers to be. Stuffy and boring. At least, that's what he'd heard a lot of kids complain about back in the days when he'd thought they were all nuts to complain about anything, let alone the good luck of being able to get an education.

Sighing, he supposed he was supposed to be dignified. Not terrified. They were just kids! He was supposed to be the grown-up here. Sighing again, he turned to the slate board behind him and fumbled for a piece of chalk. Straightening his shoulders for all the world as if he were about to go into a battle from which he might never return, he announced to the class, "My name is Iolaus. Today we're going to review the alphabet. Who can tell me the first letter?" The silence droned on as the kids looked at him like he was an idiot and then at one another, some twitching, some pulling at their hair, all with bored looks on their faces. "Okay," he continued, his hands getting sweaty, "I'll get us started. Alpha," he said as he turned to draw the symbol on the board.

Turning back to the group of restless children, he asked, "Now, what word begins with alpha?"

Again they just stared at him and he began to wonder if they spoke Greek or maybe just didn't understand a word he said. Finally, one small girl took pity on him and raised her hand. "Yes!" he blurted, ridiculously grateful.

"Athena," the little tyke said brightly. "And, Bacchus starts with Beta and"

"And you already know all this stuff, don't you?" he sighed, defeated.

Solemnly, they all nodded at him. "Great," he muttered. "Okay, how about you tell me what you don't know."

One kid giggled. "How do we know what we don't know?" he asked, shaking his head of riotous black curls.

"Good question, you're pretty smart," Iolaus replied, making a face and getting a few more laughs. "How about this. . .what do you see older kids or adults talking about that you don't understand, or doing something that you don't know how to do?

"Buying stuff in the market and you know, getting the right amount of coins back," one called out.

"Uh huh," replied Iolaus, pulling out empty pockets and looking at them woefully, "you know somebody who's got coins?" More giggles.

"Kissing!" a precocious little girl called out and all the guys, including Iolaus, groaned loudly. Giving her a sideways look, he said, "I don't believe that! I don't believe you don't know how to pucker up yer wips," he continued, puckering, "t' gi' yer Mama a kuss! Like dis!" And he gave the back of his hand a resounding smack, much to their collective delight.

"How to be a real soldier!" called out a boy, encouraged to put in his bit.

"A soldier?" Iolaus repeated, scratching his head. So far he was batting 0 for 3. No money, no girlfriend and definitely no soldierly skills. "Well, okay, the first thing every soldier learns to do is march. So, everyone up, on your feet, in a line right behind me. . .come on!" Benches scraped across the floor as the children bounced up and formed a ragged line. "No, no, not like that!" he chided, throwing back his shoulders, chin up, chest out, back straight, "in a straight line, with a straight back." They all mimicked him, the lads puffing out their chests. He nodded like an upright sergeant major, turned and promptly did a pratfall. They roared, some even clapped. Scrambling up to his feet, he called out in a parade ground voice, "For'ard March!" and he did an exaggerated march, knees coming high, arms swinging, as he led them around the room.

Once he'd used up some of their energy, he hustled them back to their seats. "What else," he asked, eager to see what they'd come up with next. Pleased, he saw more than a dozen hands waving in the air to get his attention, and he knew he had them. Grinning, he didn't even notice he wasn't scared anymore.

********

Jason heard a sorry tale of woe from the instructors, one after another, everything from not having the right or enough supplies, to overloaded curriculum responsibilities, to complaints about the older students, who were insolent and even intimidating. He dealt with them in short order, telling them to make a list of what they needed, to set priorities for the courses and to remember they were the adults, and adults didn't let kids get away with mouthing off. "If they give you more trouble than you can handle, send them to me," he directed, "but I expect a report on what you did to maintain order in your own class after I deal with them."

Chastened, encouraged, they each returned to their duties and left him to wander on his own. The place needed some superficial repairs, and a good cleaning up, but there wasn't anything that really worried him until he got to the music room and found an armory. Flinging out the doors, he froze, shocked at first, then frowning mightily. "No wonder they don't have the proper supplies," he muttered, taking a rough inventory of the extensive and expensive weaponry. The place was stocked well enough to outfit a mercenary brigade, well beyond the needs of a military academy for youth. He'd write Iphicles first thing in the morning and offer his successor a bargain he knew the King of Corinth wouldn't be able to resist.

Ambling back to his office, deep in thought, he realized things had been going wrong here for some time.

Well, they were about to get back on the right track.

********

Meanwhile, Hercules was having an amusing time in the gym. It was pretty clear that most of the other students were scared of the blackclad bullies, warily keeping their distance and avoiding eye contact. Choosing to give them enough rope to begin hanging themselves, he paired one of the bullies with one of the others, matching as evenly as he could for size to give the decent kids a fair chance to not be hurt. They'd been trained as warriors and should be able to handle a certain amount of threat and intimidation, else they'd never make warriors.

Once he'd gotten them working out, some with blunted swords, others with staffs, still others wrestling barehanded, he kept watch, catching the cheating moves, and nailing them, one after another. "Fifty pushups!" he called, as he tapped each offender on the shoulder. "NOW."

They began to think he had eyes in the back of his head, calling out infractions that he couldn't possibly have seen with his back turned. They didn't know his partner was also watching and calling out to alert Hercules to those he'd missed.

Zylas was the last to fall, and he didn't take it well. Wheeling on Hercules, he held out his sword, snarling, "Make me."

Hercules rolled his eyes as his hand flashed up to clamp over the youth's wrist, squeezing until the sword clattered to the floor. "Now," the demigod repeated with a dangerously calm voice, "do you really want to take me on? Because, believe me, I'm more than willing and I'll wipe the floor with you. Or is it fifty pushups?"

He waited, staring into the youth's eyes. "You'll be sorry for this," the kid snapped, trying to regain some measure of pride, knowing everything had stopped and everyone was watching, the silent tension thick around them.

The hero laughed coldly. "I don't think so," he replied, his voice smooth, confident. . .contemptuous. "On the floor, now."

Zylas steamed a moment more, then dropped, beginning his punishmentwhich became even more humiliating when Hercules stood over him, counting out loudly, "One. . .two. . .three."

The implication being that he was either too stupid to know how to count to fifty, or was so much a cheat he couldn't be trusted to do what he was told. Or, maybe, it was just to make it all very clear as to who was the new boss in town. The youth's face was an angry, flushed, mask of fury as he fulfilled the command all the while plotting his revenge.

********

"Fifty," Hercules called out, then reached down to haul the youth unceremoniously to his feet. Retaining his grip on the sullen bully, he called out to the rest, "I want those of you who merited the extra exercise to stay, the rest, dismissed."

Though curious, speculating in whispers the dismissed students cleared the hall quickly, leaving silence in their wake. Hercules studied each of the youths, noting the belligerent expressions, the slanted looks that didn't quite meet his eyes, felt their hostility. "Well?" he asked, his voice cold.

"Well what?" snarled Zylas, vainly pulling to free his arm. Gods, the demigod's grip was like a vise.

Hercules shifted his gaze to study the restless, angry youth as if he were an interesting variety of worm. "I'm wondering how stupid you think I am," Hercules replied coldly. And waited.

"Muscle bound freak," someone muttered, but the demigod didn't spot who it was. Didn't really care.

Hercules smiled, but it wasn't pleasant to see, as he looked at each of them in turn. "You know that I know that you were the masked cowards who attacked us earlier today. No one was hurt so I'm willing to let that pass. Those of you who are prepared to return tomorrow, to work honestly to the best of your ability, to learn honour and to find out what real courage is, are welcome to stay. Those of you who are not, pack your bags and get out tonight. Cowards, bullies, liars and cheats have no place in this Academy. Think about it."

With that, he let Zylas loose so suddenly the youth staggered. Without another word or backward glance, the demigod left the gymnasium, the door slamming behind him.

Zylas glared after him while he rubbed his bruised arm absently. "I'll kill you for this," he promised, his voice low and raspy, his face twisted with hate.

"You and whose army?" another jeered. "That's Hercules, you fool. He's invincible. Gods, he even took out Dahok."

Zylas whirled and smashed a fist into the youth's mouth, decking the kid. "Nobody's invincible," he snarled. "We'll pretend to go but we'll be back, to burn this place to the ground. Nobody throws me out."

"He didn't throw any of us out," another pointed out. Holding up his hands, backing away to a judicious distance from Zylas, who'd turned on him threateningly, he continued, trying to be reasonable, "Look, he set it up so's it'd be our decision. None of us have to go. My father'd whip me half to death if I bailed out of here. I'm not going."

"You'll stay and cow-tow to a mealy-mouthed dogooder, bastard son of a worthless god?" Zylas jeered. "A used-up has-been king and that wreck that's all that's left of the runt? Well, not me. I've got more pride than that."

"Zylas is right," another chimed in. "We don't have to take nothin' from them. This place is ours. Time we took it back."

"Yeah? And how did you propose we do that?" the earlier skeptic challenged, suddenly weary of it all. Lording it over the place when that worthless Elias had been in charge was one thing. Taking on a demigod and a couple of the other most famous heroes in Greece was something else. "Count me out. C'mon 'Tonias, let's get out of here."

The one who's father would whip him, and the last speaker eased away from the group, and not turning their backs on the others, made their way to the door and out into the dusk. The kid who had been decked scampered out behind them.

Zylas looked at a weasel-faced kid, his eyes cold. "Take them out, tonight while they're sleeping, before they blow our plans."

The other kid just nodded, his arms crossed, his stance bored.

Waving them all closer, Zylas grunted, "This is what we're going to do."

His thumbs hitched in his belt, Iolaus watched and listened, disgust written on his face, his eyes cold. These little monsters were going down.

********

Eighteen youths packed their gear, strapped on their weapons and sullenly swaggered out of the Academy gates. Oh, they'd debated staying, brazening it out, but the more lucid minds amongst them prevailed. The demigod would never believe they'd all submit to his authority, and if they stayed he'd be watching them, sticking to them like a burr to a dog. Better to come back in their own good time, with surprise as their ally.

One slipped back under cover of darkness, sneaking around to the dormitory, just about to enter when a large hand lifted him by the scruff of the neck, and a hard fist slammed down on his wrist, the knife he'd been carrying falling to the dust.

The would-be assassin tried to struggle but he was hopelessly outclassed in every category. A light rabbit punch to the jaw silenced him before he could wake any of the sleeping cadets.

When dawn came, and the weasel still hadn't returned, the other delinquents felt their first prick of disquiet.

Surprise was a fickle ally, and she often changed sides.

********

Jason reviewed the situation with his senior staff the next morning over breakfast. "So, according to their plans, we have three days," he reviewed, as he broke a roll of bread and picked up a chunk of cheese from the common platter.

The Jester looked up and around, biting his lip, then offered, if tentatively, "They'll change their plan. . .either come in sooner, or later"

"Why do you think that?" Hercules asked, agreeing with him, but curious as to how he'd reasoned it out.

Having spent his life around devious and criminal minds, Iolaus had a fair idea of how they worked. "They'll think that guy you caught last night will talk. They'll just assume he'd betray them to save his own skin. So they'll change the plan."

"I agree," Hercules nodded.

"So do I," Jason concurred. "That means we have to be ready for anything. Hercules, pick out whatever equipment you need from the armory and drill the senior cadets and those from the next class that you think have the best chance of holding their own against these wannabe warlords. It'll do them good to defend their own turf, to defeat those who had intimidated them. Iolaus," he continued, turning to the Jester, "your job is to make sure no harm comes to those children. Plan your route to safety from the classroom should an attack come during the day." Looking toward the far end of the table, he addressed the other Iolaus. "I know from the night that you came for me, Iolaus, that you can cover territory a lot faster than the rest of us. I want you to keep watch around our perimeter and warn us once you see them coming. I'll get the other instructors to organize the younger adolescents into a bucket and sand brigade, to be ready in case of fire. Any questions? No? Good."

As they parted company, the Jester felt an unfamiliar surge of pride that they'd listened to him, that they'd thought he was right and trusted his judgment.

********

While Hercules was gathering what he needed from the armory, the Jester was prowling the area around his classroom, trying to decide on the best escape route, the most secure place to take the children. He didn't know how he felt about his particular part in this campaign. He knew he wasn't a warrior, so it made sense to give him a task that involved running and hiding but what if they were found, and he had to fight to save the children? It wasn't that he was afraid for himself. . .he was afraid for the children. Scratching the back of his neck as he considered the options, he also figured it might do the kids some good to think they'd done something to help and in so doing, helped protect themselves. All his life, he'd been running, hiding, afraid. He didn't want these kids to learn that lesson. Being careful was one thing--feeling helpless was another.

The older and more skilled cadets drilled with sober deliberation, not wanting to admit even to themselves that they were afraid. Too young to know any better, they thought heroes were never afraid. They didn't know fear could be as much as an ally as surprise because properly used fear made certain you were as prepared as you could be.

The youngsters too young to fight but too old to hide were organized into bucket brigades and set to work digging and hauling sand to strategic locations in readiness should it be needed. It was hard work, and necessary. Though they'd rather have been getting ready to fight with the older cadets, they knew their efforts could save the Academy. Even if those losers were defeated, the buildings could all burn to the ground if they weren't ready.

Meanwhile, Iolaus had chosen the kitchen as the best shelter. There was a fruit cellar dug into its floor where the children could hide, safe from the raiders and safe from fire. And then, he'd put the children to work. Careful not to scare them, he also wanted to warn them so they wouldn't panic when the attack came. He explained that everyone in the Academy had a role, and they were going to take the bad guys by surprise, they were going to win, but they needed to be ready. Some he had haul clay vessels of water down into the fruit cellar, food and blankets, in case they needed to spend some time down there, like camping out. He reminded them not to forget to take candles down and flint, because it would be dark.

Others he got busy rigging booby-traps. Nets set to spring when tripped in the hallways, dropping from the ceiling. Heavy pots set to fall when intruders rushed unthinking through doorways. He made it seem a game, though a serious one, and the kids put all they had into it, coming up with creative traps and obstacles of their own. Once their preparations were complete, he drilled them over and over on how they would move from the classroom to their refuge, so there'd be no confusion when the time came.

Silent and unseen, Iolaus flitted from one location to another around the perimeter, keeping a close watch, waiting for them to come.

********

The first day passed without incident, as did the night, though few slept. Tension built the next morning as the defenders of the Academy waited for attack. Jason hoped it would come sooner rather than later. Waiting was hard. It frayed the nerves, exhausted everyone with lack of sleep. Those kids were too young to know that, and would be restless, wanting action, so he hoped they'd be reckless and attack sooner rather than later.

Few were hungry, picking at the cold lunch of pickles and cheese, bread and fruit. The day wore on, and Jason was beginning to think he might have underestimated the foe, that maybe they were smart enough to wait it out, when one of Hercules' cadets raced into his office.

"Hercules says they're coming!" the youth reported, his eyes anxious, but also fired with a kind of wild excitement.

"Good, we're ready," Jason replied as he stood, grabbing his own sword as he ushered the cadet to the door, following him out. "Return to your post."

"Yes sir!" the kid replied and flashed away, meeting up with one of his buddies who'd just finished warning Iolaus so the little kids could take cover. Youths were stationing themselves near the gate and around the inside of the walls, armed and ready, while their younger comrades took their stations, buckets in hand, either under the shelter of the stable, near the well, or in back, within the stone walls of the dormitory, near the sand they'd stockpiled, teachers ranged with them, to guide, supervise and ensure their safety.

Iolaus' charges were almost to the kitchen when the first flaming arrows soared over the walls, imbedding themselves in some of the roofs, sliding harmlessly off others.

"Idiots," Jason sighed to himself. Most of the roofs were slate and the buildings were stone for the most part. The stable caught, but not much else would burn. "They must have all slept through the classes on strategy and planning assaults," he muttered in disgust, regretting that some if not all of the young fools were likely to die before the day was over.

The attackers might have been young, and lacking in practical experience, but they were highly skilled warriors, the best of the senior class from that single perspective. Most swarmed in the main gate, but some came over the walls, using the force of their numbers to drive their former classmates back before the power of their attack. Smoke from the thatched stable swirled, acrid and heavy, while brave young cadets twisted through and around the combatants with water-filled buckets to douse the flames. Voices rang out, some in anger, some in pain, as the battle progressed but the young fools really never had a chance.

Iolaus flitted back and forth, deflecting thrown blades, rolling to trip attackers, giving the stalwart Academy defenders an advantage. He was feeling strangely fatigued though, and a little dizzy, had been since before dawn. Shaking it off, he decided it was simply because he'd not done much 'flitting' before, zapping himself from place to place for more than a day and a night without pause, and it must take more energy than he'd thought. He'd worry about it later, rest when the battle was won.

Before long, it was clear that the battle joined at the main gate was virtually over, only a couple of the crazy violent kids left for Hercules to deal with. Piece of cake. But, as he slowed for a moment, and counted heads, Iolaus suddenly realized they were a few bad guys short. Frowning he looked back at the school buildings, then felt a jolt of fear. The kids? Where were the kids?

Snapping himself from place to place, he finally found them, and not a moment too soon. The booby-traps had slowed down the three attackers who'd snuck in the service entrance in the back, and a couple were rubbing their heads in fury at having been battered by kettles and pots. One was still cutting himself out of a net that had scooped him up in the hallway just beyond the kitchen entrance.

But, the two angry bullies had Iolaus cornered. He'd obviously taken a few blows, and his lip and a shallow slash on his left arm were bleeding, his shirt torn, but he stood determined between the two murderous ex-cadets and the trapdoor to the fruit cellar, where the children were currently safe. It was ridiculous, the warrior spirit thought, his twin was trying to hold off swords and daggers with a frying pan! Ridiculous and impossibly brave.

"Back off, little man. We don't want to hurt the kids, just use them for bargaining power. Walk away and we won't kill you," one taunted, waving his sword.

"Go to Tartarus," the Jester replied, his throat dry, his face pale, clearly afraid but unwilling to abandon the children. His eyes flicked to include the third ex-cadet who'd finally extricated himself from the net he'd been tangled in, and now lined up with his comrades, an ugly serrated blade in his fist.

As his eyes raked the kitchen for ideas on how to intervene, Iolaus snorted, "Yeah, you're some coward alright."

There wasn't time for a lot of strategy or to consider the various options available to him. The ruffians were lunging to attack, and his twin had no where to go. Iolaus stood on the trap door, near the corner of the kitchen, facing the bloodthirsty youths who had ranged themselves a few feet away from him, closer to the opposite wall. Between them was a solid wooden butcher's block, topped with a marble slab, sculpted to drain away blood when meat was being prepared.

Likely heavier by a good bit than the bench he'd thrown at the entrance at the maze.

But, then, he didn't have to throw it.

Just give it a little shove in the right direction.

When the three youths lunged forward, Iolaus concentrated with the full force of his will, pushing the impossibly heavy slab until it almost flew across the slate floor to crash resoundingly into the far wall, catching and crushing the bad guys in between wood, marble and stone. The agony of it pitched them into instant darkness.

The Jester jumped back, shocked, then realized what must have happened, and who had just saved his life. His eyes skittered around the kitchen, as he whispered a heartfelt, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Iolaus mumbled, weakly waving off the gratitude, in his confusion forgetting no one could see or hear him, wondering why everything had suddenly gotten so fuzzy and gray. He swayed for a moment, then crumpled.

********

The two remaining attackers knew they had to take out Hercules if they were to have any hope of coming out of this ill-conceived plot with their skins in one piece. One whipped a dagger at the demigod, hoping to end it quickly.

Hercules plucked the deadly bolt from the air, flipped it and threw it back in a single fluid motion, catching the kid in the shoulder, bringing him down.

And that left Zylas.

Recognizing the crazed light in the youth's eyes of one who has lost grip on reason, Hercules waved everyone else back. Jason watched, anxious. Strength was fine, but that young maniac had a sword and looked like he knew how to use it. The cadets and teachers took in a deep breath and held it as they watched in rigid silence.

Laughing, just short of hysteria, Zylas stalked forward, his blade out in front of his body. "So, it's just you and me, eh, Hercules. Good. I told the others you were mine."

"Give it up, Zylas, you can't win this," Hercules warned, his hands out in front of his body, poised, ready.

"No?" taunted the youth. "Why, I've heard that you can bleed like any man. I'm going to take you down."

Lunging forward, he struck for Hercules' gut, but the demigod stepped back and twisted to the side, the blade narrowly missing him. Angry, Zylas whipped it around and back toward the hero, who dropped and rolled under it, sweeping up a sword that was lying in the dust, abandoned in the earlier stages of the battle. Raking it up and back over his head, he blocked the downward sweep of Zylas' blade. The swords clanged together and scraped apart, as Hercules came up and around, his blade balanced and ready. He cocked his head and quirked a brow as he offered again, "Surrender now. I don't want to hurt you."

Snorting, Zylas shook his head. "Everyone knows you never use weapons, you're no swordsman."

Hercules lifted his head a little, his eyes narrowing as he waited for the next attack. When it came, he flicked his wrist, catching the other blade with his own, twisting it violently so that it was pulled from Zylas' hand to fly a little way away until it dropped to the dust. Taking a quick step forward, Hercules laid the tip of his sword against the kid's throat.

"Just because I choose not to use weapons doesn't mean I don't know how," he said quietly. "Be grateful you're still alive."

The frozen tableau of observers broke then, as two cadets came forward at Jason's signal to grab Zylas and bind him. His defeated followers were gathered up and led away to the tack room of the stable, where they could be securely locked up until the authorities could be sent for.

Jason and Hercules stood a moment, watching, glad it was over with minimum bloodshed and then they came to the same realization at the same time. There weren't enough of them! Hercules cast a quick look around the yard wondering where Iolaus was, not seeing him.

"Gods" Jason swore at the look of alarm in the demigod's eyes, and then they were both racing for the kitchen, where they knew the children had been hidden.

********

Iolaus had quickly reassured the children, but wouldn't let them leave the cellar until he was certain the battle for the Academy was over and won. He looked up in alarm at the heavy pounding of feet down the corridor, but relaxed as soon as he saw it was only Jason and Hercules. "We're alright," he called out, seeing the expressions of concern on their faces.

They slowed as they entered the chamber cautiously, mindful of the booby-traps Iolaus and his kids had set. When they saw the badly battered and unconscious attackers squished against the wall, Jason demanded, "What happened?"

"They were going to use the children as hostages but Iolaus got here in time and slammed that thing into them just as they were coming at me," the Jester explained.

Hercules' eyes were raking the kitchen. Where was he? The demigod was about to turn away, to search elsewhere, when his eyes dropped and his breath caught. He'd almost missed it, a breath of what looked like a wisp of smoke curled about a foot off the floor. Smoke? In here? "Iolaus!" he gasped, lurching forward and falling to his knees.

Jason and the Jester watched, eyes widening in alarm at his tone and the expression on his face as he stared at the floor, his hands reaching out helplessly, as he called again, louder, "IOLAUS! Answer me!"

His partner was gray, and there was no mistaking this time that he'd faded badly, was almost invisible even to Hercules. He lay crumpled, on his side, eyes closed, motionless and the demigod was terrified. In all the time since Iolaus had been back, he'd never been anything but alert and usually solidly standing on his feet. . .never like this, so ephemeral, colourless and still.

The other two moved closer, their faces pale with alarm. "What is it, Hercules? What's happened to him?"

"II don't know. He's just lying here and, he's almost faded away," Hercules replied, his voice shaking, his eyes dark with fear as he cut a quick glance up at Jason, then back down at his best friend. "I don't know what to do to help him."

Watching so intently, Hercules saw his friend's eyelids flutter and he relaxed a little when Iolaus' form became fully distinct again. "Iolaus! Wake up!" he called again, feeling like he might collapse himself from relief when his partner muttered, "Wha' happened?"

"You tell me, buddy, come on. . .that's it. . .you're okay," Hercules encouraged as Iolaus pulled himself into a sitting position, shaking his head against the persistent dizziness.

"Yeah. . .yeah, I'm fine," Iolaus reassured him, hearing the fear under the words. "Guess I must'a overdone it a little. Just give me a minute," he asked, his voice still weak as he lowered his spinning head to rest his forehead against the arms crossed over his upraised knees.

"Take all the time you need," the demigod answered, flicking a look of reassurance back up to Jason and his buddy's twin. "He's okay," he breathed with evident relief.

Jason rolled his eyes and blew out the breath he'd been holding. "Remind me to tell him not to scare us like this again," he sighed, relaxing.

The Jester turned to gaze at the heavy butcher's block and he frowned, biting his lip when he wondered about how much saving his life, and the lives of the children had almost cost.

What did it mean when a ghost faded away?

********

Later that night, having ordered Iolaus to remain at the Academy to rest, Hercules set out to get a few answers. Iolaus, still feeling odd, fragile somehow, had agreed absently, preoccupied with the strange sense that he wasn't quite there, but was distant, remote, apart from the rest of the world. The aftereffects usually didn't last this long and it made Iolaus a little nervous because he couldn't understand it. But where Iolaus was distracted, Hercules was frankly terrified by what had happened. Determined to find out just how dangerous it was for Iolaus to be doing these things, and what he could do about the aftereffects, the demigod strode out across the rolling fields into the gathering dusk. About half a mile from the school, he stopped in the middle of the field and called out, "Hades! We need to talk!"

Hercules had been prepared to shout all night if he'd needed to, but his uncle appeared almost immediately. "You have to tell him to stop overexerting his energy, Hercules," Hades, his expression grim, said as soon as he'd appeared to the demigod.

"No kidding," Hercules replied with a look of exasperation. "What happened to him today?"

Hades looked away as he licked at his upper lip. Cutting a severe look back at the demigod, he replied, "He almost wiped himself out."

"Wiped. . .what does that mean?" the Son of Zeus demanded, his voice tight, anxiety flashing in his eyes.

Hades rubbed his brow as if he had a killer headache as he replied, "He'd be gone."

"To the Other Side?" Hercules demanded, not liking the way his uncle was avoiding his eyes.

"No, that's barred to him. Just. . .gone. . .out of existence. . .forever," the God of the Underworld clarified. "So tell him to cool it or lose it."

With that, Hades disappeared.

Hercules stared at the spot where his uncle had been for a long time, shaken...sick. Iolaus had almost gods, it didn't bear thinking about! But, he couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop seeing that image of Iolaus, faded almost to nothing. Stricken to his soul by his uncle's cold, dire warning, he was terrified he'd never be able to get Iolaus to 'cool it', not if his buddy thought he needed to do something to save someone else.

Hercules felt as if the world had shifted around him, the solid ground at his feet crumbling away, leaving him once again at the edge of the chasm of emptiness and unendurable loss. One false step, one wrong move and Iolaus would be gone

Gods.

********

Ares was waiting for Hades when he flashed back to his domain on the Other Side.

"I don't recall having invited you," the irritated god said, brushing past his nephew. Dammit, he didn't want to, but he cared about that stubborn little soul and it sickened him to think that even that last bit of Iolaus, the soul of all he'd been, could just fade away into nothing. Worse, the God of the Underworld believed it would happen, inevitably, because Iolaus had no clue how to act against his nature, how not to render aid to the limits of his power, regardless of the consequences to himself. The last thing Hades needed right now was the questionable pleasure of his sardonic nephew's company.

Smirking, Ares called after him, "I just wondered if you'd be interested in a little wager about how long it'll be before Hercules starts whining for help and Zeus caves in."

Hades paused, his back to the God of War. Disgusted, he flung over his shoulder, "Don't you have a war to fight somewhere?" Then he continued into his private chambers and slammed the door.

Ares laughed.

Chapter Five: Heart's Desire

When Hercules returned to the Academy that evening, he found Jason and the Jester lingering by the gates, waiting for him. They hadn't needed to be told that he'd gone off to find out what had happened to Iolaus. They'd have done the same if they'd had any hope of getting an answer from the gods. Jason sucked in a dismayed breath, and the Jester's eyes widened in alarm when they saw how slowly Hercules was moving, his shoulders slumped, as if dazed.

"By the gods, Hercules, what have you learned?" Jason asked, reaching out to grab the demigod's arm when, so distracted he hadn't noticed them, it had appeared as if he might just walk right past them.

Startled, Hercules looked up, his expression unreadable in the dim light cast by the flickering torches on the wall at the entrance to the Academy, his eyes shadowed. Recognizing Jason, he shook his head a little, as if trying to clear it, and looked around, seeing the Jester but Iolaus was no where in sight. He sighed, wondering how he was going to get Iolaus to pay attention to this new danger.

"Hercules?" Jason pressed when the demigod didn't answer, feeling his anxiety grow.

Swallowing, Hercules looked back at his old friend. "He has to stop using so much of his energy. If he keeps doing what he's been doing, he'll just be. . .gone. Completely. . . not to the Other Side. Just. . .gone."

The Jester looked stricken as he gazed up at the demigod, and then his gaze fell to the ground, trying to take in the magnitude of what Hercules had just told them. Iolaus was spending his soul in his efforts to intervene in the mortal world, spending at a rate that he'd have nothing left. . .be nothing but a memory.

Jason paled, having to swallow the bile that had risen to the back of his throat. It was bad enough not being able to see Iolaus, or hear him, but at least he knew his friend was there. Looking away, out into the dark countryside, he understood why Hercules looked so devastated. This would be a death more final than the simple loss of the brief span of mortal life. Complete, irrevocable. . .gone, like the wisps of mist burned away by the sun, scattered by a morning wind.

Rubbing his forehead, Jason wondered how likely it would be that Iolaus would accept this new information quietly and change his ways. He had skills now, skills he'd worked hard to acquire. Skills he took pride and pleasure in. Skills he could use to still help others, to make a difference in this world. To be more than a wraith, silent and unseen. Would he hesitate to use them to help someone in desperate need to simply save his own existence? Had he ever hesitated to use his life at the risk of its loss? Jason pressed his eyes closed, his grip on Hercules' arm tightening.

"You have to tell him, Hercules, you have to make him understand" Jason murmured, his voice hoarse.

Hercules' gaze shifted to the horizon as he nodded almost imperceptibly, the shadow of a weary, sad twist to his lips as he replied, his voice tight, "I know but will knowing, understanding be enough to make him put himself first. . .gods, for once, first and not last?" Turning back to Jason, his eyes glittering a little in the torchlight, he rasped, "You know him, Jason, what do you think? How long before he spends everything he has left? How long before I lose him forever?"

Jason couldn't meet those eyes, couldn't face the inutterable anguish that pooled within them. Shaking his head, he threw a supporting arm around the demigod's shoulder and drew him into the Academy grounds, heading toward their quarters, the Jester following silently behind them.

********

It was early the next morning, when Hercules left his sleepless bed to prowl the precincts of the Academy that he came upon his partner, sitting atop the wall, staring out across the valley and its winding river to the forests beyond. Hearing his friend's approach, Iolaus turned, grinning brightly, obviously back to feeling his old self, and called out cheerfully, "Well, you're up early!"

"Uh huh," Hercules replied, running his fingers through his hair, as he looked up at his buddy. "You look like you're doing a lot better today."

"Yep," Iolaus nodded, but his grin had faded a little as he studied the demigod. Hercules looked washed out, like he hadn't slept a wink, worried and uncertain. Feeling a twinge of regret, suspecting he was the cause for the anxiety he could sense in his friend, Iolaus hastened to reassure him, "Told you these spells or whatever they are pass off. Just takes a little time."

Hercules nodded vaguely as he looked away through the gates. "Iolaus. . .let's take a walk," he suggested, his voice tight.

'Uh oh,' thought Iolaus, even as he called out, "Sure," and hopped down from the wall to land nimbly on his feet. 'Herc really is still worried about yesterday,' he reflected with a mental sigh. 'Here comes the 'I don't think you should do this stuff anymore,' speech.'

The demigod didn't say anything as they ambled across the fields, still damp with dew, until they came to an ancient half crumbled stone wall, where he sat, still silent, still wondering how to say this so that Iolaus would listen, really listen, to him.

Iolaus stood a few feet away, studying him, waiting for what he was sure was coming.

Finally, Hercules sighed and looked over at his friend. "Iolaus, yesterday. . ."

"I knew it!" Iolaus cut him off. "I knew you were still bothered by that! Herc, it's alright. Don't worry so much."

Hercules raised a hand to stem the flow of words, his face strained. "Just listen for a minute, okay?" he asked.

Rolling his eyes, Iolaus finally nodded and move to sit down on the stone wall. "Okay, I'm listening," he said, trying to be patient.

Looking away from his friend, Hercules leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs, his fingers knit together, his head down. "I asked Hades to explain what. . .what happened to you that caused you to collapse like that," he began. Iolaus straightened a little, wondering what the god had said to get Hercules so worked up.

"And?" he prompted, curious.

Sitting back, his hands moving to grip the edges of the wall beside him, Hercules turned to face his best friend, his expression somber, contained, but fear flickered in his eyes as he responded, "He said if you don't stop, you'll use all the energy you have left and you will. . .fade to nothing."

Iolaus frowned at that, annoyed, as he protested, "He promised he wouldn't take me back to the Other Side"

Lifting a hand, in gesture that curiously resembled a plea for understanding, Hercules replied hoarsely, "Not the Other Side. . .that's barred to you. He really means 'nothing', Iolaus. There will be literally nothing of you left, anywhere."

"Oh," the soul replied, a little blankly, as he absorbed the information. Looking away, Iolaus swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling very dry, though he knew it was only an illusion.

"Yeah," breathed the demigod, still watching his partner. "Iolaus, I know how important it's been to you, to be able to intervene, do something to make a difference but, it has to stop."

Iolaus went perfectly still for a moment, then looked around, rolling his shoulders as if suddenly stiff, as if he felt bindings being lashed around him and then he was up, pacing, needing to move. Turning to face Hercules, he replied, his own voice strained now, "What? I'm just supposed to 'hang around', watch. . .do nothing? Be nothing?"

"'Nothing' is exactly what you'll be if you keep doing what you've been doing!" Hercules replied, surging to his feet, his anxiety building, his voice rising with a note of desperation. "Dammit, Iolaus, you are not 'nothing' now. Right now, you are here, I can see you, hear you, know you're with me"

Breaking his gaze away from Hercules, Iolaus stuffed his thumbs into his belt, standing with his shoulders a little hunched, his head turned away. "So I'll just be your invisible buddy, someone to talk to when there's nobody else around," he muttered, his voice thick with anger and bitterness.

"No, that's not. . .Iolaus. . .isn't that why you came back? To be here, with me?" Hercules asked, feeling the desperation grow in his chest. Iolaus wasn't going to stop. . .oh gods

Looking back at his best friend, his own face now bleak, Iolaus replied tightly, "Yes, it is but not long ago, you could have died because I couldn't do anything to help, Herc, I want to do more than just be here. I need to know I can help when you need me to"

"You do help," the demigod insisted, his voice shaking with sincerity, "You keep me sane! I. . .you know what happened when. . .what am I supposed to do if you push so hard that I lose everything that means anything." His voice cracked, and he looked away, blinking against the moisture that had flooded his eyes.

His face etched by sorrow, Iolaus closed his eyes as he turned away from the pain he could see in his friend, the fear, unable to bear it. But how could he just stand aside, an observer in every sense? How could he not use what he'd learned if it was needed? Bowing his head, he remembered how much Hercules had suffered in the past year, knowing that would be nothing compared to what would happen if Hades was right. He wondered how could he do that to Hercules. . .leave him alone, leave his best friend to pay the cost of his pride, his refusal to accept his soul's limits to the point where he utterly destroyed himself. Did he want that? No, Herc was right. He was here because he wanted to be with the demigod, because he knew Hercules needed him. But, gods. . .to do nothing! To be useless! How could he stand that?

Finally, Iolaus murmured into the heavy silence, "All right, Herc. . .I'll try."

But the demigod shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat, as he replied hoarsely, "'Try' isn't good enough, not this time. Iolaus, I need you to promise me that you won't risk everything again. I need you to promise on my life, since yours doesn't seem to mean much to you, on my life, promise me you'll stop pushing the limits, stop using yourself up."

Iolaus turned to gaze into his friend's eyes seeing the soul deep fear and the desperate hope that he would agree. For Hercules he had to promise or Herc would never let this go. Would never know peace. Feeling trapped, he replied softly, "Okay, Herc. . .on your life. . .I promise."

Hercules' eyes closed as he sighed with profound relief, the tension melting out of his rigid muscles, easing from his chest as he whispered, "Thank you."

Iolaus gazed at his best friend with compassion, trying to hold onto the realization that Hercules cared so deeply about what happened to him, to his soul but looking away, he just felt empty. He'd promised to do nothing. . .be nothing. Locked into a useless existence for all of eternity. Pressing his lips together, straightening his back, he reminded himself of those first few hours and days, when simply being here had held meaning. . .being in the world, being with Herc. . .when it had been enough. Iolaus told himself firmly that it still could be enough. . .would have to be enough.

"Come on, Herc, we'd best head back. The others will be wondering where you wandered off to," Iolaus said, trying to keep his voice level and light, as if everything was just fine, as if he was as happy about all this as was his best friend.

"Right," Hercules replied, smiling at him with evident relief. "I, well, I told Jason and your twin last night what Hades had said. Made them as sick as it made me to think of what could happen to you. They'll want to know that it's alright, that you've promised not to push the limits again."

Crooking a half-smile at his buddy, Iolaus nodded and turned back toward the Academy. It was nice to know they cared, worried about him. But could any of them imagine what they were asking of him? Did they have any inkling of how hard this was going to be, how worthless he was going to feel the first time he willfully held himself back from doing what he knew he could do, from saving someone innocent, just to save himself? Ruefully, he guessed they must have had some sense of it. . .why else would Hercules have demanded such a promise?

Love can be a kind of prison, used to bend one will to another, to constrain the actions of one for the good of the other, for all the best reasons, he reflected. His offer to try to live within its walls, to see if he could stand it without going crazy hadn't been enough. By making the promise, he had just knowingly locked himself inside and thrown away the key.

********

Hades waved a hand to close the window he'd opened on the world of mortals. "This isn't going to work," he reflected, as he turned to regard his brother. Iolaus would grow increasingly miserable, which would make Hercules miserable, which would lead to Hercules retracting his request for the promise, which would allow Iolaus to over-extend himself into nothingness, which would drive Hercules over the edge and that would make Zeus miserable. And, that wasn't a prospect Hades wanted to think about.

Sometimes, it was Tartarus to be a god and be able to so easily read the future's probabilities.

Zeus stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in thought. "No, it's not, not for long anyway." Sighing, he shook his head as he turned his gaze on Hades, "You've created a fine mess, you do know that, don't you?"

His face tight with frustration, the God of the Underworld protested, "I didn't plan it. . .it wasn't intentional!"

"No but by barring him from Elysium, we lose the option of just pulling him back here for his own good. Hercules might not like it, but now that he knows the alternative, he'd visit often and learn to live with it," Zeus replied darkly, not pleased that this particular problem just wouldn't go away.

"Would it have better if I'd just let Dahok have him?" Hades pushed back, crossing his arms as he glared at his brother.

Shaking his head wearily, Zeus acknowledged, "No, it just would have led to the same place only sooner."

Nodding, Hades noted the point he'd scored his own favour. He might have screwed up, but this situation, however messy, was better than the alternative. "So what are we going to do about it?"

Annoyance flashed across Zeus' face at the 'we'. Hades had created this dilemma, it was his responsibility to sort it out. But, clearly his brother needed to be pointed in the right direction. "'We' are going to do very little, and be seen to do even less. Neither of us need all of Olympus knowing that we've involved ourselves in mortal affairs. I have an idea, though it has its risks, but it's up to you whether you put it into motion."

His brow quirking with interest, Hades pursed his lips and nodded. "All right, let's hear it."

********

Over the next two days, Hercules saw very little of Iolaus as the soul sought the solace of the forests during the day and the stables at night, needing to be away from people, needing time to think about what his existence now meant. . .about the box he was now in. Ironically, he found he felt more comfortable around the animals. They could at least see and hear him. He existed for them, and that brought a measure of comfort, of affirmation that he really was there, and wasn't just a figment of Hercules' imagination. In the stables, the horses would flick their ears at him, and whinny softly, their eyes warm and welcoming when they saw him saunter in. And, in the forests, the animals seemed to sense he was no threat to them, deer edging close, squirrels and rabbits tumbling playfully at his feet. He wondered how it was that they could see him, respond to his voice, the tone if not the words. He wondered if it had something to do with innocence and if very, very young children might not also be able to sense his presence. The next time he saw a baby, he'd have to see if he could make the child laugh.

When he was around the others, Hercules noticed his air of dejection, as if the brightness had gone out of the world for Iolaus, and he didn't know what to do about it. He found himself hoping for a distraction but a safe one. Sighing, he wished there was another way. He hated to see Iolaus looking so bravely miserable.

The royal messenger came two days later with the response to Jason's offer to Iphicles. The King of Corinth agreed to purchase the weaponry, at a very gracious price. The ex-king smiled in satisfaction and approval of Iph's generosity. It would be more than enough to meet the needs for supplies, to conduct the repairs and to leave a tidy sum remaining for the future. His son-in-law was a good man.

They loaded up a wagon and the next morning, Hercules and Iolaus climbed up to take the implements of war to Corinth. Hercules wasn't all that happy about transporting weapons, would have destroyed them all if it had been left to him, but he was the one who had put Jason in charge, and now he had to live with it.

Jason looked up at the two of them, Hercules resigned, Iolaus quietly looking forward to seeing more of this strange world, and grinned. "Have a good trip and I'll see you back in a couple of days. Take your time, enjoy the visit with Iph. And thank him for me, Hercules. I appreciate his generosity."

"I'll do that," Hercules replied, finding a smile of his own. It would be good to see Iph and he knew the shy Iolaus was actually looking forward to the trip. It was great to see the man beginning to relax, to find his balance here.

They rolled into the large city around midafternoon, Iolaus' eyes wide at the evident prosperity and atmosphere of peace. The narrow streets thronged with people going about their business, calling cheerfully to acquaintances, children scampering through the crowds, laughing in their play. The buildings were brightly painted, and, as they drove past the market square, Iolaus could see goods of all kinds were on display, good quality and in abundance. Craftsmen hawked their wares, the scent of foods from the braziers filled the air, flags flapped in the light breeze. He'd never seen such a place of lively wellbeing.

Walking alongside the wagon, Iolaus looked up and enjoyed the expression of near rapture on his twin's face. Salmoneus had made quick work of his scroll and it was already a best-seller apparently, given the number of people who recognized Hercules and realized who his companion must be, calling out a warm "Welcome to our world!" to Iolaus as they drove by. Startled, shy and very, very pleased, Iolaus blushed and bobbed his head, waving back, sometimes even having the temerity to call back a "Thank you! It's a wonderful world!"

Hercules, too, was pleased at the glow of happiness on his companion's face. He was going to be all right.

As they reached the branch in the thoroughfare that would lead either to the palace or to the docks, Iolaus called up, "Hey, Herc, we should take a short detour and show our friend here the harbour. It'll blow him away!"

Nodding, Hercules turned to regard the other Iolaus and thought a few minutes spent in sightseeing wouldn't hurt. Pulling the reins to the right, he guided the team toward the wharf.

********

Iolaus was speechless as they came over the rise and he gazed out over the bustling harbour of Corinth. It looked as though hundreds of ships, merchantmen and military, were anchored in the bay, while smaller craft, fishing skiffs and fast transport ships plied to and from the docks, brightly coloured sails full in the wind, the sea glittering silver and turquoise, the sky wide and open with only a few puffy clouds. He could smell the clean brine in the air, and hear the call of the birds, gulls and albatross, heron and pelicans, and others he couldn't name, dipping and weaving in the air.

The dock accommodated a full fifty ships at a time, and all the slips were full, the wharf teeming with dockworkers, passengers, sailors, merchants, tradesmen, sightseers, fishers, messengers, rich, poor, well dressed and rags, open, excited faces, and others closed, watchful, some speculative. The noise of barrows creaking and horses stamping, of men calling and shouting directions and greetings, muttered oaths and cheerful teasing. Barrels piled high, with crates and boxes everywhere, casks of wine, large fired clay vessels of oil, stockpiles of grain, warehouses of stored goods. All open. All at peace. It was marvelous! Unimaginable for one who had only known terror and the miserly control of wealth and commerce.

Hercules stayed with the wagonload of weapons when it got too congested to go further, while the two Iolausii wandered along the docks, seeing the sights. They'd just come alongside a large privateer when a heavy voice called out for all to hear, "Greetings to all of you good folk here! Today is a glorious day! My wedding day! Come, see, my beautiful bride and wish us well. Congratulate me on my good fortune!"

Though the words were fullsome, the voice was grating, proud and malicious. The Jester had heard tones like that before, good words twisted by the foulness of the being who uttered them. He froze and turned to regard the source, if only to be certain of avoiding the speaker in the future. His invisible twin paused at his side, curious to see what all the shouting was about.

They both saw her at the same time, identical faces registering their awed appreciation of her delicate beauty. . .long blond tresses, wide, clear blue eyes. . .and both frowned when they read fear and despair in those eyes. The burly, sleazy looking man at her side gripped her arm tightly, holding her close, tightly enough to leave bruises. Her eyes scanned the crowd hopelessly, knowing there was no one there who'd care about her plight, no one to turn to for rescue. She'd brought this on by her own foolish actions and somehow, she'd have to live with it, somehow, though it would drive her mad.

Her gaze alighted on the golden twins, eyes as blue as her own and she caught her breath at their beauty. Frowning, she thought them somehow familiar, but was oddly disconcerted to see two of them. She had a nagging sensation that there should only be one. Though identical, they dressed differently and there were other differences between them though she had to concentrate to figure out what they were. One seemed confident and there, he'd just winked at her, though it was clear from his expression he was concerned about her. How strange. That a stranger would notice and care. The other gazed at her with something that looked like awe, a yearning in his eyes that called to her soul. She found herself unconsciously reaching out a hand toward him but then was pulled roughly back to the world by her 'fiance', who'd not been pleased to see her reaching out to that blond-haired runt on the dock.

Still, she couldn't tear her eyes away from those that held her own and she felt a curious longing in return. Her lips parted, as if she might call out to him, but the man with her turned her around, sharply, and shoved her back into the darkness of the cabin. He shot a look of murderous promise at the man on the dock, then he too disappeared from sight.

The Jester was staggered. In all his life, he'd never seen anyone so beautiful, been drawn to another so profoundly. He'd felt an almost painful recognition, like a burning knife thrust through his heart, or a bolt of lightning from the sky, that left him breathless. But, more than anything else, he was deeply frightened for her. He knew the look he'd seen in her eyes. Hopeless horror. Helpless despair. Trapped. . .abused. "I have to save her," he breathed, not realizing he'd spoken aloud.

The soul beside him was also shaken, though not quite for the same reasons. Though he, too, was deeply concerned about the young woman and recognized coercion when he saw it, there was something else. He'd winked at her almost unconsciously, a reflexive instinct to flirt and reassure at the same time, to let her know she wasn't completely abandoned, before he realized he was invisible to her. But she'd registered it, recognized it, saw him!

This was no ordinary woman and it was clearly no marriage for love. Something was badly wrong here, and if a guy could control a woman who was more than mortal, then he had some mystical power over her and that couldn't be good, either for her or for the rest of the world. When Iolaus heard his twin breathe out his declaration, he nodded tightly, murmuring, "The sooner the better."

Of one accord, though they had no way to communicate, they turned to head back to Hercules.

A few minutes later, the Jester was almost babbling out the story of what they'd seen, desperate to make Hercules understand that they had to save her. A little bemused, overwhelmed by the passionate urgency in the normally diffident man, the demigod looked to his buddy to make some sense of what he was hearing.

"He's right, Herc, we have to do something to help her. But, there's more. She's not mortal, at least not an ordinary mortal. She could see me."

"What?" the demigod exclaimed, his head lifting to look down the busy dock toward the privateer. "See you? But. . .that's not possible. . .unless.. . "

"Unless she's a goddess, or demigoddess. Yeah, I know. Something smells, Herc, and it's not the fish," Iolaus replied grimly.

His counterpart looked from the demigod to the empty space beside him, knowing Iolaus had just shared momentous informationa nd found he didn't really care what it was so long as it made Hercules help him. Seeing the concerned, engaged look on the demigod's face, he relaxed marginally. Hercules would help. Together, they'd save her from that horrible man who had held her so tightly, save her from a marriage she clearly didn't want.

"Wait here," Hercules directed as he headed down along the dock to get more information about who owned the privateer and the wedding that was supposedly to take place sometime later that day.

It didn't take him long to find out what he needed to know. "Okay," he said briskly on his return, "here it is. The guy's name is Lysocka and he's rumoured to be a pirate, known for his mean streak and his ambition. Nobody knows who the girl is, only that they've never seen her before and that he refers to her as his 'prize'. The wedding is scheduled for sunset."

"What are we going to do," asked the Jester, wringing his hands unconsciously.

"First, we're going to get rid of these weapons," Hercules replied, adding quickly when he saw the Jester was about to protest, "It's alright, there's plenty of time. It's too dangerous to just leave them here untended on the dock. Besides, I saw one of his sentries watching you. They've spotted your interest in this and it's best if they think we've left. I'll explain on the way what we'll do when we get back. C'mon."

The two men climbed up onto the wagon and, as he took the reins, Hercules said to his partner, "Iolaus you wait here and keep watch, see what else you can overhear about what's going on. We'll be back in a couple of hours."

Nodding, Iolaus turned to stride back down along the dock toward the privateer. 'Well, at least eavesdropping seems to be still on the 'can do' list,' he thought ruefully. Better than nothing.

But, then he paused and started to smile. If she could see him, then maybe she could hear him, too.

********

Iolaus grinned insouciantly at the heavily armed sentries guarding the vessel as he strolled past and onto the ship. Heading straight to the upper deck, he entered the cabin into which the pirate and the girl had disappeared earlier. The fact that the door was locked and barred didn't slow him down a bit.

Nautica had been pacing the small chamber, too over-wrought to sit quietly and wait for her fate. She was angry at being held captive, frightened by the prospect of being married to that disgusting oaf, utterly desolate at the risks she'd caused her people. . .and she couldn't stop thinking about those blue eyes. They haunted her, pushing all else aside. So, when she turned to pace back toward the door and saw those blue eyes, or ones very like them, gazing at her, she jumped and gasped, a hand coming to cover her mouth to hold back a scream of surprise.

Iolaus had his hand up, to reassure her as he whispered, "Shhh! They can't hear me, but they'll hear you if you call out."

"How did you get in here?" she asked, elated to think that rescue might be at hand. "And why can't they hear you?"

"Uh, well, I'm a ghost. They can't see me, either," Iolaus explained with a quizzical expression. "My name is Iolaus and I'm here to figure out how we can get you away from here."

Too much information, too many reactions, crowded into her mind for her to respond sensibly for a moment. "Iolaus? Ghost?" she stammered, as memories cascaded of a half drowned youth who'd tried to save her younger brother years ago. . .Hercules' friend. She remembered hearing he'd been killed by some demon in another land and had been saddened by the news. Though she'd never actually spoken to him, as he'd been unconscious the whole time she'd been near him, she had saved his life and had held a childish fantasy of one day meeting him again. "There were two of you. I saw."

Iolaus nodded, "Uh huh, he's my twin, well sort of, look it's a little hard to explain right now. Who are you?"

"Nautica," she replied, "I'm Nautica, Poseidon's daughter."

"Oh boy," Iolaus murmured, unable to keep himself from looking at her decidedly shapely legs. She caught his questioning look and despite the gravity of the situation, grinned wickedly, "Are they alright? I usually have a tail, and well, I wasn't sure I'd gotten them the way they should be when I transformed."

"Oh. . .they're fine. . .great, actually. Nautica? The one who saved my life, right?" he clarified, dragging his eyes back to hers. "I never got a chance to thank you."

She shrugged. It had been a long time ago, an adventure really. The first time she'd had contact with any being outside her own watery world. "You were trying to help my brother. Makes us even."

Iolaus had been checking out the chamber, looking for other entries or exits, but there was nothing, not so much as a window. "How did you fall into this guy's clutches?" he asked.

Her face fell and she turned away to sit on the berth. "It was my own fault. Iwell, I was tired of the same old thing back home, it was all soboring and predictable. Then, Poppa decided to do something about it. . .he was going to marry me to a squid! Well, maybe not a squid, but he might as well have been. That's not what I wanted! I wanted to explore, come to this world, get to see what it was like. But Poppa wouldn't hear of it." She sighed. "So, I thought I'd make him listen, make him give me permission. I" she hesitated, then blurted it out, "I took the Trident, to bargain with him."

"THE Trident?" Iolaus stammered. "The one that controls the winds and seas, the storms and all the creatures under the waves?"

"Yeah," she murmured, flushing with shame. "I'd brought it to the surface, thinking if I made my stand on the shore, I'd be halfway to what I wanted when Poppa came after me, and I could trade the Trident for his permission to explore. Then, I saw the shadow of the ship above me and I thought I could hitch a ride, you know, get out of the water before my father caught up with me. By the time I surfaced, and realized it was a pirate ship, it was too late to get away. I'd already transformed to this shape and, the pirates spotted me in the water, captured me. . .they threw a net over me, hauling me and the Trident onto this ship."

"Where is the Trident now?" Iolaus asked, his eyes again raking the cabin.

"Lysocka has it, the guy who wants to marry me, in his cabin just under this one," she replied miserably. "He plans to use it to rule the seas and use me to keep Poppa from fighting him for it."

Biting his lip, standing with his hands on his hips, Iolaus gazed absently at her as he thought about the mess she'd created. "Okay," he nodded, "we'll just have to get the Trident as well as you off this ship. How hard can that be?"

"Lysocka has more than forty men, all of them well armed and vicious fighters on this ship. How can you help me, let alone get the Trident back?" she asked, discouraged.

Iolaus grinned as he replied, "I have Hercules."

********

By the time Hercules hauled in the reins back at the dock, his companion was in a lather of impatience and nearly frenzied with worry about the girl on the ship. Iolaus was waiting for them, and he cast a pointed glance at the sun, which had sunk perilously low in the west as Hercules pulled up and the two men leapt down from the wagon. "I know, I know," the demigod replied to the unspoken criticism, "we got a little delayed and I took the time to send a message to Iph, asking for back up in case we need it."

"So long as you're here now," Iolaus cut in. "Look, I found out she's Nautica and the pirate, Lysocka, has the Trident on that ship. He plans to be the new King of the Seas."

"Great," muttered Hercules as they hurried down along the dock. "Where on the ship?"

As they came alongside, and pushed their way through the curious throng who had gathered to see the much heralded wedding, Iolaus pointed out the cabin on the main deck. His counterpart was fairly twitching with impatience and anxiety. Unable to hear the conversation between Hercules and the spirit, he had no idea what was going on or what they were going to do to save that girl.

The wedding party, such as it was, had already gathered, the groom hauling the bride down to the main deck, a priest from Aphrodite's nearby temple having just been hustled aboard. The guests, forty or so surly sailors, had definitely arrived, but then they'd been there to begin with. The main deck of the ship was below the level of the dock, allowing the heroes, and the rest of the spectators, an excellent view of the beginning of the ceremony.

Turning to Hercules, his eyes wide with dismay, the Jester urged, "We have to stop this! What are we going to do?"

Hercules looked around the vessel, the dock, the armed sailors, the crowd and then down at the Jester. "Follow my lead. By the way, her name is Nautica."

"What?" the Jester gaped, wondering what in the world Hercules expected him to do, follow his lead? What lead? Where?

The demigod pushed his way to the front of the crowd, and strode down the gangplank just as the priest began to intone the vows. "Wait," the Son of Zeus called out, drawing the attention of all assembled there.

Lysocka spluttered, furious, as he wheeled on the man who had just so rudely interrupted his wedding, "Who in Tartarus do you think you are?" he demanded, waving at his men to remove the intruder.

"Hercules," the demigod replied and the crowd gasped, leaning forward eagerly. This show had just started to get very interesting. "You can't marry hers. She's already married," he continued, gesturing to Nautica.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Lysocka shouted back, moving to grip her arm firmly. "And I suppose you're claiming that she's your wife," he continued, sarcastically.

"Uh uh," Hercules shook his head as he turned to wave at the Jester who was standing on the dock end of the gangplank. "That's her husband and he's been searching for her ever since you kidnapped her, haven't you, Iolaus?"

"Um. . .yeah!" the Jester called out, trying to sound brave, his voice wavering a little. "That's my wife, Nautica! I. . .I love her and I want her back!"

Hercules shrugged at the crowd, as if to say, 'well, there you have it,' then turned to approach the 'happy couple'. Gripping Lysocka's wrist, forcing him to release his hold on Nautica, Hercules murmured, "Go to your husband and get away from here."

She didn't need to be told twice. Whirling around, she dashed up the gangplank and threw herself into Iolaus' arms, then pulled at him, dragging him back through the crowd, racing along the dock away from the town.

Handicapped by the watching crowd, who cheered the reunion of the estranged couple and immediately closed ranks behind them, blocking the sailors who had tried to follow her, Lysocka lifted fury-filled eyes as he snarled, "You'll pay for this."

Retaining his vice-like grip on the man's sword arm, Hercules scanned the crowd as he replied, "Oh, I don't think that's the way this is going to go." There had to be more than a hundred observers who'd come to see the show and partake of the celebratory meal Lysocka had advertised all throughout the day. They could have cared less about seeing a wedding, virtually all of them unsentimental and minimally romantic dock workers, craftsmen, tradesmen, sailors of other vessels but the offer of free food was not something to be passed up. In one way or another, all of these people made their living from the sea, and paid homage to Poseidon. They were sturdy, straightforward people who wouldn't take to having their livelihood threatened.

Calling out, Hercules informed them, "This man, Lysocka, is a thief! He has taken possession of Poseidon's Trident for his own purposes." A low growl from the crowd greeted his words. "Will you risk Poseidon's fury? Will you risk the fish disappearing from the sea, or having the seas frozen to ice? Or will you help me recover what belongs to Poseidon?"

There was a frozen moment of stunned silence, and then with a roar of fury the gathered throng pulled knives and cudgels from about their persons and thronged onto the ship, some pouring down the gangplank, others taking the simple expedient of leaping from the dock onto the deck below, pulling down Lysocka's startled sailors as they landed. The brawl was short and sharp, the pirates fighting back, but many only half-heartedly as they, too, feared Poseidon's wrath. Hercules had hauled Lysocka toward the cabin over the stern, kicked down the door of the cabin and shoving the pirate toward two capable looking dockworkers, he strode in.

The Trident was propped unceremoniously in a corner, its golden luminescence filling the dark space with a soft, almost living light. Hercules grabbed it, surprised to find how heavy it was, and to feel the throb of energy within it that reverberated through his body, putting his teeth on edge. Turning, he bore it out of the cabin and back onto the deck, holding it above his head triumphantly to the resounding cheers of his impromptu gang of enforcers.

Pausing a moment beside the livid pirate, Hercules murmured, "I'd think twice before setting sail again Poseidon is not known for being a forgiving kind of guy. He values his children and this Trident above all other things, and you tried to take both from him."

Gritting his teeth, his eyes burning with hate, Lysocka simply looked away. He'd find a way to make them pay for this and glancing up into the shrouds, spotting his lookout, he knew the lad would have a good idea of where that runt had taken his 'prize'. The Trident might be lost, but he'd still have bargaining power with the god if he could get her back.

Hercules had turned away and warmed by the enthusiastic cheers of the crowd, he made his way back up to the dock, and then began to run in the opposite direction taken by his friends. He wanted to get the Trident back to Poseidon and the quickest way was to head to the headlands on the cliffs that curved out and around from the southern arm of the harbour.

And, he wanted to split Lysocka's forces. He was pretty sure the guy would want revenge and hoped at least half of those bloodthirsty pirates would follow him for the prize of the Trident instead of the girl.

********

To the rest of the world, it might have seemed that Nautica was leading her husband, as they raced along the dock, darting around obstacles of piled barrels, coiled rope, crates and folks coming and going from the various ships tied up alongside. But, she was following the lead of a spirit only she could see.

Together, they raced past the end of the wharf area, clattering down wooden steps that led to the rocky beach. Iolaus kept leading them on, wanting to put a fair amount of space between them and the pirates who were bound to follow. He was reluctant to lead them into the town where they could too easily end up trapped down a blind alley. Out here, in the countryside, they could at least melt into the forest and besides, Nautica had to stay near the water to make good her own escape back to where she'd come from.

It was an hour before he let them stop, and by then the dusk was gathering, the waves dark over the sea, but for the eerie phosphorescent effect of the surf. "Wait here," he directed as he turned back to watch for pursuers and to flag down Hercules once the demigod showed up. However, Iolaus didn't expect him anytime soon, knowing his buddy had to take care of the small matter of Poseidon's Trident.

Nautica and the other Iolaus paused to catch their breath, and she leaned on him for support. He trembled at the warmth of her, and unbidden, his arm came up to circle her body, holding her close. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and dancing as she teased, "Well, husband, thank you for coming to rescue me!"

But the look in his eyes drove the laughter from hers. Searching his gaze, again finding it hard to breathe, she stood on her toes to bring her lips to his. It was like a dream, a wonderful, precious dream, with the sound of the crashing surf beside them, a fiery sky above darkening to allow the stars to glitter. The Jester met her lips, feeling as if he was drowning but had no interest in saving himself, and his grip tightened around her as her arms snaked up around his neck, her fingers tangling in the curls they found there.

How long they stood like that, he didn't know. An eternity? A brief flash of time? All he knew was that he had found his heart's desire and never wanted to let her go. It overwhelmed him, and frightened him and he realized he was behaving as badly as had that pirate, whisking her away and wanting to make her his own. Pulling away, letting his arms fall as if suddenly burned, he turned his head, muttering, "I'm sorry. . .I've never done anything like that before. . .I'm sorry."

"I'm not," she sighed, a soft hand on his cheek pulling his face around to hers so that she could look into those amazing eyes. . .see the ache in them. . .the ache for her that soothed her own troubled soul. "I feel as if I've been looking for you all my life."

"I had no life until I saw you today," he whispered, the truth of the words filling his heart. "I knew I had to save you from him somehow." Smiling a little in self-mockery, he continued, "Though I'm a coward, you know, and saving people isn't something I'm usually very good at."

"You saved me," she replied, stroking his cheek. "And now you're responsible for my life. I belong to you."

"Oh no," he laughed at that, standing back, shaking his head. "You don't owe me anything! I'm just glad to know you're safe now but. . ."

Whatever he might have said was lost when Iolaus shouted from down the beach. Nautica's head snapped up and her eyes widened, as she gasped, "They're coming! They've followed us!"

The Jester took one look back over his shoulder and caught the shouts of hunting men, and then he grabbed her hand to race with her farther along the shore.

But, they'd tarried too long, and the revenge seeking pirates gained on them, finally catching them. The Jester yelled to her, "Keep going!" as he turned to face the threat, but she wasn't about to leave him. He fought as he'd never fought before, drawing upon his unclear memories of what Iolaus had done while in his body, upon the memories Iolaus had left behind, kicking out and swinging his fists. But he was unskilled and they were vicious.

While two of their gang grabbed Nautica and hauled her screaming away, the rest lingered to beat the Jester, catching hold of his arms so that he could no longer fight back. He could hear her screams fading into the distance as the darkness came to claim him.

Iolaus watched the early stages of the uneven battle, sick to his depths at being helpless to intervene. This is what that damned promise meant. This. Having to watch someone beaten and abused, helpless to save themselves while brutal men did whatever they chose. Turning away, wincing at the sound of fists thudding into his twin's body, at the groans of pain, he couldn't just stand and watch, couldn't bear to listen. Nautica's screams cut through his distraction. With a last glance of despairing grief and guilt at his double, he turned to race along the beach, following those who had taken her hostage.

********

Hercules had thrown the Trident far out into the sea, where it vanished below the surface with a brilliant flash of light, streaking up into the darkening heavens, then blinking from sight. Nodding decisively, he turned to head back along the path he'd taken, back to find the others and ensure they were all right. He kept a wary watch for pursuers, knowing some must have followed him, so his eyes were up, scanning the rocks to the side and ahead.

Not on the path.

So he didn't see the rope hidden by the shadows the rope that stretched across the stony path just below knee level.

With a shout of surprise, he went flying headlong, landing hard and knocking the breath from his body, stunned a little by the impact. They swarmed out from behind the rocks, kicking him and pushing him quickly over the edge of the rocky escarpment. Though he scrambled to fight back, to gain a hold on the rocky lip of the cliff, it had all happened too fast and he felt himself drop, down onto the rocks and the surging sea below

Lysocka stood looking down at his sprawled body, the waves crashing up and over the still form of the demigod. "I told you I'd make you pay," he muttered with grim satisfaction. Then he turned away to lead the remainder of his force back past the wharf to unslip their ship and sail up the coast to take back his 'prize'.

********

Iolaus found the Jester sprawled unconscious on the stony shore, the rising tide lapping at his feet, his face bloody and bruised, dark in the shadows of the deepening dusk. Dropping to his knees beside the man, Iolaus reached out, wishing he could touch, see how badly his friend was hurt, but he couldn't. All he could do was wait.

It seemed hours later when he was vastly relieved when his twin finally moaned and rolled over, more into the water, which roused him further.

"I'm sorry," Iolaus whispered, knowing the Jester couldn't hear him, but having to say it.

Struggling to sit up, one hand holding his aching head, the beaten man looked around dazedly, with a sense of sinking despair. He hadn't been able to save her. They'd taken her away.

He'd failed again. Only this time, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to recover. Oh, it wasn't the beating. He'd known worse at the hands of the Sovereign. Gods, what they'd do to her!

There had to be something he could do. He couldn't just let this happen! If it killed him, he had to find a way to help her, make her safe! Turning, staring desperately into the night, he called out, "Iolaus! Are you here? Gods, please be here! Take my body! Use it find her!"

Whether or not this came under the heading of 'can't do anymore,' Iolaus couldn't resist that plea from the depths of his twin's soul. He didn't know where Hercules was, and was worried. The demigod should have caught up with them a long time ago and Iolaus had been as afraid for the demigod as he waited by the Jester as he was for his double. Ruthlessly, he pushed that fear aside, telling himself Hercules knew how to take care of himself, would be fine, was just delayed. It was up to them to save the girl. He'd do as much as he could, without thoroughly compromising his promise to Hercules, to help the Jester do just that.

Rising from his knees, he stepped forward and into the Jester's body, and the man almost sobbed with relief to know he had the help he needed. Inside the zone of his mind, he faced Iolaus and pleaded, "Teach me, teach me how to fight them! I have your memories. . .some idea. . .but I don't know how to put it together. I have to save her!"

'Well, that I can do,' Iolaus thought, remembering the previous experiences had never left any side effects. "Alright," he replied, "but we have to be quick. They're holding her in a boat repair barn about a mile from here."

Working quickly, he helped the Jester sort through the memories of moves and battles, showing him how to make use of whatever came to hand, how to keep moving, rolling and tumbling, using the skills he already had, how to use the force and size of another against them. While they sorted, they got their shared body moving, heading down along the beach.

Slowing as they came closer to the wooden structure a few yards up from the waterline, they dropped behind some rocks. There were sentries posted, but they weren't keeping an alert watch. Within the halls of his mind, the Jester turned to Iolaus. "You have to go now, you made Hercules a promise. And. . .and I have to do this myself."

Iolaus gazed back at his twin, then reluctantly nodded. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Back there. . .I wanted to help but. . ."

"I know," the Jester assured him. "I don't want you destroying yourself any more than does Hercules. He needs you. . .and I. . .I need to know that you're all right. I'd never have forgiven myself if helping me again, saving my life, burned away your soul. Whatever happens, Iolaus, thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance at a new life."

Iolaus lingered a moment more, his attention back on the sentries, and the light breaking in the east. "You need to move quickly, silently, sneak up behind them, hit them with a rock and catch them when they fall so that it doesn't make a sound. There were about seven of them with her inside, and they'd tied her to a work bench in the middle of the area. There're coils of rope, various metal tools scattered about. . .use them, use whatever comes to hand. And keep moving." Turning back to the Jester he whispered, "Good luck."

And, then he stepped back out of the body, leaving the Jester to save the woman Iolaus now knew the man loved with all his heart and soul.

He might have argued the point, might have chosen to stay in the body, forced the Jester to accept his help. But, his twin was right. This was something he had to do himself.

To save Nautica and to find his own strength, his own confidence in his capacity to fight and win for something or someone who meant the world to himor die trying.

The fact that it nearly killed Iolaus to just stand back and watch didn't bear thinking about.

********

Hercules tasted salt on his lips as he struggled back to consciousness. He was lying on a rough hard surface, and felt like mush. . .and very, very wet he realized as another wave cascaded over him. Moaning, he pushed himself to his knees, shaking his head to clear it.

"Well, it's about time," growled a deep voice from somewhere behind him.

"Right," he sighed, feeling as if ten thousand drummers were using his head for practice as he flopped over to sit with his knees raised and one hand kneading the back of his neck. Looking up, he noticed Poseidon had retrieved his Trident. His uncle had appeared as a slightly larger than average giant and was sitting on a boulder a few feet away, scowling at him.

"Well, are you just going to sit there?" the god demanded. "My daughter is in need of rescuing."

Wincing a little as he came to his feet, Hercules squinted up at the god as he replied, "Why don't you save her yourself?"

Huffing a little, Poseidon looked off across the sea, toward the glow beginning to rise in the east. "She stole my Trident and ran away. She needs to learn a lesson. How would it look if I just chased after her to save her from her own idiocy? Time she grew up, took responsibility for herself." Changing the subject, which was all too obviously only making him feel uncomfortable, the God of the Seas observed, "Oh, good threats by the way, to get those folks to help you, freezing the sea, I liked that one, sounded like something I'd do..."

"Yeah, yeah," Hercules cut in, as he turned to scan the cliff above him, looking for handholds.

"Not that way," Poseidon advised him, as he too stood. "The filthy pirates have taken their ship up along the coast to meet with the gang who took Nautica away from your friend the clown"

"Is he all right?" Hercules demanded, suddenly concerned as he whirled back to face the god. He knew Nautica must be alright or Poseidon would have already torn the fools apart and they wouldn't be having this conversation.

"Relax, that kid bounces back from a beating like a ball off a wall, he's fine, but he's going to try to take them all on by himself which suggests he's not very bright, not unlike his twin when I think about it," Poseidon replied caustically, waving off the demigod's concern. "The fact remains that there are too many, or shortly will be, for him to handle by himself. Your friendly ghost is doing his best to live by his promise to you but he's not happy about it, I'll tell you that."

Hercules rolled his eyes, again turning to the cliff, anxious to be on his way. Iolaus had a limited amount of patience at best and the promise would likely be cast to the winds if his buddy thought he had no choice but to help his twin and Nautica. There was no time to lose.

"I said, not that way," Poseidon continued, reaching to scoop the demigod into one massive fist. "Come along. I'll give you a lift."

Startled, Hercules only had time to take a deep breath before they'd plunged into the sea.

********

The Jester took a deep breath and set out to become a hero, though he didn't think of it like that. All he could think about was the danger Nautica was in, and that he had to save her. Picking up a rock that fit nicely into his hand, he circled around to get behind the first sentry at the back of the building. Moving quietly, light on his feet, he moved in through the shadows and soundly wrapped the pirate on the back of the head, remembering to catch the fellow before he collapsed to ease him to the ground. Then, he slipped around the side of the building, again keeping in its shadow until he could peek around it at the sentry at the front. Waiting until the man had begun to stroll to the far side, the Jester again moved forward as silent as the shadows that had hidden him, taking the pirate by surprise and leaving his body on the far side of the building.

The sun had just come up over the horizon, blazing a golden path straight to the closed door of the building. Taking a deep breath, he shoved the doors open and dashed inside, his eyes darting to take in the occupants and to locate the implements Iolaus had said he might make use of in rescuing Nautica.

She was tied wrists and ankles to a worktable in the centre of the building and her head came up at the sound of the doors crashing open, her eyes widening when she saw him outlined by the sun, as if etched by gold. He cut a quick glance at her, to ensure she was all right, and the sight of the bruise on her cheek inflamed him. Almost blind with fury, he kicked out at the first pirate that came at him, catching the villain solidly in the chest and driving him backward to bang his head sharply on the far wall, where he sank to the ground. Two more were coming at him, and he rolled, to knock them off their feet, coming back up quickly, a loop of coiled rope in his hands. Lashing out, he caught one across the head and shoulders, knocking him into the other as the second tried to stand. Both went flying, one connecting with the solid wood base of the work table Nautica was tied to, and Iolaus clipped the other as hard as he could with the edge of his hand on the back of the pirate's neck, dropping him to the filthy earthen floor.

By then, the other four, who had been drowsing, had come fully awake and were edging toward him from the back of the barnlike structure. 'Keep moving,' he chanted to himself, 'Iolaus said to keep moving!' So, he fought his tendency to freeze in confusion, and using one hand for leverage, he leapt over Nautica, striking out with his feet at the nearest man, sending him backward into another. Dropping to the other side of the table, he cartwheeled to the far wall and pulled a long iron implement from the wall. Already swinging it as he turned, he caught one pirate solidly across the face and another hard on his shoulder there was an audible crack and scream as the bone broke.

Two left standing, circling at him from either end of the table she was tied to so he cartwheeled again, one handed, still gripping the iron rod, and came up close to the other man, clipping him soundly on the side of the head, dropping him in his tracks. The last man circled, a knife in his hand, wary of this human dynamo who never seemed to stay in one place long enough to catch. Not knowing what else to do, Iolaus yelled as he charged the man, startling him, and then stopping just out of reach, he whirled and swung the iron to crash against the man's wrist, sending the knife flying and the pirate to his knees, holding his shattered wrist as he cursed in pain.

Iolaus stopped moving, stunned, as he looked around and realized he was the only one left standing. Breathing heavily, he grabbed up the knife and his eyes raking the crumpled bodies, ensuring they were all staying down, as he turned and quickly cut the ropes that bound her, then scooped her off the table into his arms. She looped her arms around his neck and held onto him, her head cradled against his neck as he carried her quickly into the sunlight.

"You saved me!" she whispered, and to his amazement, he realized he had. Smiling then, for the first time since they'd taken her from him, he set her gently on the ground and hugged her tight, never wanting to let her go. It was only then, when he looked up toward the water, that he saw the other ship drop its anchor and a small skiff over the side, loaded with more pirates.

"Oh great," he muttered, pushing her a little away. "It's not over yet." Turning to her, he said urgently, "I want you to hide and don't let any of them find you! I'll try to slow these guys down, keep them from coming after you."

"But," she protested, now also seeing the ship and the villains drawing close to shore. "There are too many! They'll kill you."

"Don't worry about me! Just go!" he urged, pushing her back toward the forest even as he turned to face them.

Slowly, torn, she backed toward the trees. Just then, they heard a shout and turned to see Hercules racing toward them along the beach, moving to meet the skiff as it drew ever closer. A second skiff was putting out from the pirate vessel and then, from around the point, appeared another ship, flying the colours of the King of Corinth.

They could hear shouting from the ship, confused, panicked and the second skiff turned back. If they weighed anchor, they might have a chance to fight off the marines.

Lysocka, in the first skiff, was furious. All his plans were crumbling. The demigod, who he'd thought he'd killed was here before him. And he could see the girl disappear into the shadows of the forest. Cursing, he urged his men forward. The only chance now was to fight the demigod and that ridiculous runt who was running to join him on the shore and track the girl. With her, he could still bargain.

But, the pirates were at a distinct disadvantage. They needed to wade through the heavy surf, while the heroes held the beach, and the military vessel fired on their own ship, holing it just above the waterline. It was a rout. Hercules took Lysocka, not worrying about finesse, simply straight-arm punching him solidly in the face, snapping his head back even as he staggered to the shore, dropping him into the surf. While Iolaus spun and kicked, leaping up onto one guy's shoulders and pounding him with both hands, rolling back to kick out at another, Hercules smashed and threw others hard into the sand and surf.

It was over in minutes, the residue of the pirate forces surrendering before they were utterly demolished. Iphicles' forces took possession of the pirate vessel, while several rowed ashore to round up the beaten pirates on the sand and in the building.

Hercules waved when he spotted his brother in the boat heading to shore, grinning broadly. Then he turned to the Jester, who looked battered but triumphant. Clapping the smaller man on the shoulder, the demigod said with a warm grin, "See, I told you you were a hero!"

Wordless with emotion, scarcely able to believe what he'd just accomplished, the Jester looked up at his friend and nodded, his eyes glowing with joy.

"Iolaus!" they heard her call and turned to see Nautica racing across the sand to fling herself into her hero's arms, kissing him soundly, almost knocking him over. He hugged her tight and kissed her right back, while Hercules watched, his brows ascending under his bangs as he gazed at them with a look of bemused surprise. He turned when he heard the familiar ripple of sound, the delighted giggle that never failed to warm his own heart.

Iolaus was sauntering down the beach toward them, shaking his head. "It must be magic, Herc. Even when it's not really me, I get the girl!" he teased.

"Well, this was fast work, even for you. What happened?" Hercules asked, turning back to look at the couple who were oblivious to everyone and everything around them.

"Love happened," Iolaus replied softly, gazing with delight at his twin and his lady. "He really loves her, Herc, more than he thought would ever be possible. He'd die for her. . .didn't think twice about taking on nine guys back there and all of them in that ship if that's what it took to keep her safe. And, you know, I think she loves him, too."

"But does he know she's not mortal? That she belongs in the sea?" Hercules asked, his eyes darkening with concern. Gods, he didn't want to be the one to tell the Jester that this relationship was hopeless.

"No, he doesn't have a clue who she is. She could be a peasant for all he knows. He doesn't care," Iolaus replied, frowning himself now that he considered the complications. "There must be something we can do. . .er. . .that you can do. What about 'Dite? Maybe she could help."

Hercules turned back to consider the couple and decided this was worth asking a favour of his sister. "Iolaus, suggest they go for a walk or something while I meet Iph, get these goons dealt with and talk to Aphrodite. Ask them to give me an hour," he said quietly, then moved to meet his brother who was just wading to shore.

Hercules greeted Iphicles, who was staring at the couple kissing a few feet away. "Iolaus?" he whispered, hope in his eyes.

"Well, yes and no. It's the Iolaus from the Sovereign's world and that's Nautica, Poseidon's daughter," Hercules explained.

Disappointment flooded his brother's eyes, only to be replaced by amazement, "Poseidon's daughter?" he stammered.

"Uh huh. While your men are rounding up the bad guys, I'll explain it to you. . .and by, the way, thanks for responding to the message I left yesterday afternoon," Hercules replied.

Iphicles smiled at that. "No problem," he assured the demigod. "Gave me an excuse to get away from the palace for a while. We anchored just outside the harbour and watched for the ship, followed them here. I've been looking for an excuse to take Lysocka in for years. Glad to help."

Iolaus sauntered over to his twin and Nautica, ostentatiously clearing his throat to get her attention. Reluctantly, she opened an eye and looked at him, then pulled back a little in the Jester's embrace, a brow quirked in question, as much as saying that the interruption had better be worth it.

Iolaus grinned as he relayed the message. "Hercules suggests the two of you go for a walk, for an hour maybe, while he clears things up here. I think you guys might have some things you need to say to one another. . .like maybe, where each of you come from?"

"Oh, yes," she replied, a little distracted as she returned her gaze to those incredible blue eyes that held her soul captive. "Let's. . .let's go for a walk along the beach, all right?"

"Sure," he nodded, feeling confused and not caring. Whatever she wanted to do was fine with him.

They set off, hand in hand, heads close together, golden in the new morning's light.

********

"I love you," she whispered, then floundered, not knowing how to explain who she was or what it meant. She only knew she never wanted to leave him, not ever.

"I love you, too," he murmured, surprised with the ease with which he was able to make the declaration. How it seemed to simplify everything in his life, give him purpose and focus. Whatever it took, he'd find a way to care for her.

But, she seemed unhappy, and that bothered him. There was something here he didn't understand. Stooping to pick up some stones, he began to juggle as if absently, while he began to tell her who he was, where he was from, but it was deliberate, to distract her, to share something of himself, to bring a smile back to her face and eyes.

Her attention caught, delighted by his skill, she grinned in amazement and then registered what he was telling her, explaining what had been meant yesterday in the cabin when Iolaus had said this man was his twin, 'sort of'. He tried not to belabor the horror, but she heard past the words, the tones of self-mockery, saw the shadows in his eyes when he didn't look at her directly.

"You've suffered," she murmured, empathy softening her expression. More than ever, all she wanted was to make him happy for the rest of his life.

"Everyone suffers," he shrugged as he let the stones fall, "maybe you need to experience suffering to really know true happiness. . .to know how precious it is." Then, turning to her, he said, "It doesn't matter to me who you are, or where you're from but, I'm interested. I want to know everything about you, if you'll tell me."

"Oh, Iolaus! I don't know how to tell you! I. . .I'm from another world, too, but. . .my world is the sea," she said hesitantly, casting a look at the rolling surf. "My father is Poseidon, God of the Sea."

"Poseidon. . .oh," he echoed, shock and then dismay in his eyes. A peasant he could aspire to love. A goddess? It was impossible. "I didn't know," he mumbled, turning away. "I'm sorry. . .I shouldn't have. . ."

"What?" she exclaimed as she grabbed his arm and pulled him back to face her. "What shouldn't you have done? Saved my life? At terrible odds and danger to yourself?"

"NO!" he protested. "That's not what I meant!"

"What then?" she persisted. "That you shouldn't love me? Why? Aren't I good enough?"

Sighing, he shook his head as he took her hands in his own. Quietly, he replied, "You know that's not true. It's me who's not good enough. . .would never be good enough for you."

"Don't you think that's up to me to decide?" she replied archly, then relented, tears in her eyes. "I love you. It's sudden, I know, and probably a little crazy, but I know it's real! I never want to be parted from you! I don't know how I'll find a way but I will. I'll find a way to live in this world. . .with you."

He found he had to blink his own eyes and swallow against the fullness in his chest. "I can't ask you"

"I'm asking you," she cut in. "I know I'm useless. . .haven't a clue how to cook"

"I know how to cook," he rejoined, trying to grin but failing, "but, that's not the point."

"Sure it is! Good, so it's settled!" she decided, nodding decisively. "You're my hero, my love, my lifeI won't let you go."

Overwhelmed, his eyes glittering with tears, he felt only pain at the knowledge that, no matter how much they each might want this, to be together, it was hopeless. Sighing as he took her into his arms, "Oh, Nautica, we can't do this. . .it's impossible, don't you see." While all the while, his soul was crying out, 'I love you. I have no life without you.'

"Why?" she demanded, pulling away. "Why does it have to be impossible?"

Holding her hand, his face bleak with hopelessness, he murmured, "Nautica, think about it. You're a goddess, of the sea. I'm. . .well. . .a mortal, a wanderer from another world, but a land world. I can't live in your world, and you can't live in mine. Even if you could, and would, give up your whole life to live out of the sea, it wouldn't be right. Can't you see, we don't belong together. We'd only ending up hurting each other and I couldn't bear to ever hurt you."

The harshness of reality crashed into the sweetness and yearning she felt and she knew he was right. Her eyes filled with tears and her face crumpled as she leaned into him. "I. . .I don't want to leave you," she sobbed. "I know I'll never love anyone again like I love you. I feel like you're a part of me, somehow."

"I know," he whispered, tears brimming in his own eyes. "I'll remember you all my life and be glad that I had the chance to know you, to feel your love and to know I love you. I. . .I never hoped anyone as wonderful as you would ever care for me. Forever, Nautica, I swear. . .I will love you forever."

They stood a long time, just holding one another, sealing the memory of it in their souls, the touch, the words, knowing it would be all they could ever have. Finally, he pulled a little away, looking down at her tenderly, his heart in his eyes, as he said, "We'd better head back. Hercules will be looking for us and it's time you were going home."

She nodded disconsolately as she wiped her eyes, and they turned to make their way back, walking slowly, their feet dragging, wanting these final moments to last a lifetime.

*********

The pirates had been rounded up and taken back to the ships, which had hauled anchor and slipped around the point back to the harbour at Corinth. Aphrodite stood beside Hercules on the beach, looking past him at the lovers as he explained the situation.

"So, is there anything you can do?" he asked, a plaintive note in his voice, a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Maybe, but I have to be sure this is what they both want," she temporized, watching them come closer, seeing their bleak unhappiness, the slowness of their steps as they returned, reading the pain of their hearts. Poseidon wouldn't likely be happy about this but Love wasn't his domain. Lifting her head, her hands coming to her hips, she studied them closely, her eyes narrowing as she considered the options.

As they walked up, Hercules said to the Jester, "Iolaus, you remember Aphrodite?"

"Oh, yes!" he replied, bobbing his head and blushing a little to remember how he'd ogled her the first time he'd seen her years ago.

She giggled, delighted by his reaction as she nodded to Nautica. "Hercules tells me the two of you are in love," she chirped, getting right to the point.

"That's right," Nautica confirmed, tightening her grip on his arm. There was a desperate look in her eyes. "I don't want to leave him, not ever. . .but . . .he's convinced me it's hopeless. Unless. . .unless you can help us! Oh please, I'll do whatever I have to do to stay with him."

"Really?" 'Dite noted, one brow arching. "Well, I'm not sure it's up to you. Like it or not, you'll have to return to the sea."

"But," Nautica tried to protest but Aphrodite raised an imperious hand, cutting her off as she turned to the Iolaus from the other world. Iolaus laid his arm around Nautica's shoulders, to comfort her, to help her be brave. A shuddering sigh escaped him as he faced Aphrodite squarely, waiting for her to tell them there was nothing she could do.

But, her words surprised him, as she said, "The decision is yours, Iolaus. Do you love Nautica enough to give up this world, to go with her to her world under the sea?"

Heartbroken grief gave way to tremulous hope, and he tightened his grip around the one person he would ever truly love with his whole heart. His face was utterly sincere, his eyes clear and his voice firm as he responded without any doubts, "Nautica is my world, my life. I left the world I was born in, and I don't really belong here or anywhere else, except where she is."

"That's all I needed to hear," 'Dite cheered, her face aglow with a brilliant smile. She waved her hands and kissed each of them on the cheek. "Go then go to your world and your life together and be happy."

Nautica looked astounded that it could be this simple, and then her face was wreathed with a glorious smile as she too cheered and turned to hug her love. Iolaus looked like he'd just been given the earth and everything in it, astonished and overwhelmed with a gratitude he could find no way to express. "Thank you," he murmured to Aphrodite.

Then, his arm around Nautica, he turned to Hercules, "And you. For believing in me. For giving me a new life. I've never been as happy as I've been in the last few weeks."

"You earned it, my friend. I hope your happiness is only just beginning. I wish you both all the joy that life can hold," Hercules replied, his own eyes suspiciously moist as he laid a gentle hand on the Jester's shoulder.

Nodding, the Jester turned to Herc's side, casting a look at Hercules, a question in his eyes. "Iolaus?"

"He's right here," the demigod indicated with a wave of his hand.

Staring at the space, imagining his twin smiling at him, Iolaus said, "I owe you everything. You have been my inspiration and my teacher. You shared what you are so that I could save Nautica. You were the one who suggested I come to this world. I will never be able to thank you for the gift of my life. . .or the life I will know with her. I. . .all I can offer. . .is to tell you that you will always be my hero. I'll do my best to live up to everything you have always stood for."

Iolaus gazed a moment at his twin, his face mirroring the pride he felt in this man, and the love. Turning to Nautica, he said quietly, "He doesn't have to be like me, he just has to be himself. I'm proud to know he's my twin and I wish you both all the best. You deserve the love you share. Tell him that for me, when you get home."

"I will," she promised, and then she turned to her Iolaus and tugged at his arm, pulling him toward the sea. Laughing then for the sheer joy of their love, they whirled like children and raced into the surf, turning once to wave back as they swam out, and then with a mighty thrust of two tails, they disappeared under the sea.

"Thank you, Aphrodite," Hercules said, smiling, relieved and very happy to see that the Jester had finally found the life he deserved.

"Oh, I love a love story," she giggled, "and happy endings!" With that, she vanished. Before her eyes could cloud with sorrow that her brother and her Sweetcheeks hadn't quite the happy ending she would have wished for them.

"That was great," Iolaus sighed, ever the romantic.

"Yeah, it was. I'm glad he's finally found a life worth living," Hercules replied, staring out at the sea.

"Well, I guess we should head back to the port, get the wagon and return it to Jason," Iolaus suggested. "He's not going to believe this!"

"Right," agreed Hercules, turning to head back toward Corinth.

"So, what took you so long to get here?" asked Iolaus as they ambled along.

As Hercules relayed his tale, Iolaus alternately looked concerned, at the ambush and long fall to the rocks below, and then impishly delighted with the tale of Poseidon and his reluctance to just come out and give his beloved daughter whatever she wanted. It amused him to think the gods faced the same challenges with their children as did mortals. . .if they cared enough to be bothered at all. But, then, the same thing could be said about some mortals, too.

"Well, I'm glad you made it, and that Iph turned up in the nick of time," Iolaus observed. "He did great against the guys in the barn, you know, once he'd gotten the hang of how to fight, but a whole boat load would have been too much. . .way too much."

"Uh huh," Hercules agreed. "I got back as quickly as I couldI knew it would be hard for you to keep your promise."

"What?" Iolaus cut in, expression bleached from his face.

"Well, I knew you'd want to help," Hercules replied diffidently, having the sinking feeling he'd just said something very wrong.

"Yeah, I wanted to help all right. I wanted to help when they nearly beat him to death and dragged her off screaming. I wanted to help when he went in against nine guys for the first time in his life, when they were armed and he wasn't. I wanted to help when I saw that ship anchor off shore but I didn't," he replied bitterly, his entire being stiff with tension and resentment. "How could you think I'd just walk away from the promise I gave you? You think my word is worth that little?" Iolaus demanded, clearly furious.

"No!" Hercules denied, his hands up in defense. "No. . .it's just that, well, I knew how hard it would be"

"Yeah, about as hard as it would be for you to stand around and do nothing while people you care about are hurt. You know what, Hercules, I hate this promise. But, I made it. The least you could do is trust me to keep it," Iolaus seethed, stomping on ahead.

Hercules didn't know what to say. . .he could feel his friend's pain, the anger and guilt, the grief at being helpless, the frustration like a tangible force radiating from Iolaus. And, he knew his friend was right. It would kill him to keep such a promise himself. Did he ask too much? Gods, no! Without that promise, Iolaus might already have done something to destroy himself!

"I'm sorry," he finally blurted, as he caught up. "I just don't. . ."

"I don't want to talk about it," Iolaus cut him off. "Because, if we talk about it right now, I'm going to retract the promise, and I don't think you want that. But, I warn you, Hercules, I'm really not sure how long I can go on with it. I'll keep trying. . .for you. Let's just not. . .talk about it."

"Okay," murmured the demigod, feeling that it was wrong, all of it, wrong. This kind of existence wasn't fair to Iolaus, but no existence at all was too devastating to consider.

Once again, as they strode back to the harbour in silence, he began to wonder what he might be able to do, to trade, to get Iolaus out of this intolerable reality.

There had to be a way. Maybe if he begged Zeus? Iolaus would hate that but it might be the only option they had.

Casting his eyes to the sky he wondered, 'Would you answer if I called? Would you do this for him. . .for me?'

Chapter Six: The Cretan Bull

They'd stopped by the palace to pick up the sack of gold Iphicles had promised in return for the weapons Jason had sent, and then on to the port to reclaim their wagon, a little surprised to see that it was still there. It was a gesture of respect, in its own way, by the dockworkers and tradesmen in return for Hercules saving that poor girl from an illegal marriage to the scurvy pirate. They'd posted their own watch on the demigod's wagon to ensure no one just drove it away.

Iolaus remained silent for most of the trip back to the Academy, reflecting on the promise he'd made, telling himself sternly that he could learn to live with it, all the while knowing that was a lie. Not forever. He couldn't imagine doing what he'd done last night, standing back to watch another battered almost to death, just because he'd given his word not to help. It violated everything that he was, everything he believed in. So he knew it was only a matter of time. And a matter of finding a way to tell Hercules the promise was off. A way to face the fear in the demigod's eyes.

Sighing, he decided he'd have to start finding a way to help Hercules live without him. Because eternity was a long time. And given the cards he'd been dealt, he seriously doubted he'd last that long.

Hercules, too, was silent, aware of the tension in Iolaus, afraid he knew only too well what his friend was thinking about. Maybe. . .maybe if they just lived quietly, didn't go looking for trouble. But, then, he sighed. It wasn't like they'd ever looked for it. Trouble had a way of finding them. When the gates of the Academy came into view as they crested a rise, he turned to Iolaus, and said, "I know this is impossible. That it can't go on like this forever. But just a little longer, okay? Until we can figure out what to do, how to change the limits."

Iolaus looked down at his clasped hands, hearing the pleading tone, the desperation in Herc's voice. 'Figure out what to do' he thought, 'like there's anything either of us can do about this.' But, he nodded, agreeing to keep the promise for now. "Okay," he murmured, looking up toward the sprawling complex that spread out before them. "A while longer."

Jason came out to meet them as they pulled into the yard, heading the team toward the stables. The new Headmaster was surprised to see that Hercules was alone and wondered what had happened to the little guy from the other world, afraid they'd run into trouble. His face clouded as he loped across the yard to meet his friend, calling out, "Where's Iolaus? What happened?"

Reminded of the good news, Hercules smiled as he climbed down from the wagon, leaving the tending of the team to the cadets who'd emerged from the stables. Reaching up to take the bag of gold from the seat, he turned to hand it to his friend, as he answered, "Well, Jason, it's a long tail. . .two tails, actually."

"What?" Jason replied, taking the gold and unconsciously hefting it gladly, his attention still on the missing Jester. But, the demigod's smile at least let him know the story wasn't dire. "So, tell me!"

Laughing, the demigod looped an arm around his friend as they turned to head toward the mess for an ale. "Well, you see, there was this girl and some pirates. . .oh, and Poseidon's Trident."

"Hercules!" Jason protested, punching his friend's arm. "Either tell me the story clearly or I'll just have you repeat what Iolaus has to say about it!"

The demigod grinned as he heard his buddy snicker behind him. At least this was a story they could all be sure had a happy ending.

********

They puttered around for the next couple of days, Hercules again taking over the athletics program, while Jason made the necessary arrangements to buy the supplies needed and to see the repairs he wanted made were underway. The ex-king had been delighted by the love story, very pleased that the Jester had found love and a new life, though he thought he'd miss the little guy, and the youngest cadets were sorry to hear he wouldn't be back. Over the course of the past days, Jason had found a new reason for life and he found he enjoyed it. Having only agreed to take on the headmaster role temporarily, he'd decided to keep it. Teaching these young minds gave him a purpose that he could be proud of fulfilling and he'd planned to offer the Jester a permanent job.

Then, one day, Jason was surprised when one of the parents dropped by the Academy to see how her daughter was getting on and the Headmaster realized why that particular cadet had seemed so hauntingly familiar to him.

"Lilith!" he cried, "I don't believe it! By the gods, it's good to see you again!"

Grinning, she hugged him and then stood back. She'd known he was here, Seska had written to her with the news of the new Headmaster and all the recent excitement. It was why she'd come. "I agree Jason, it's been too many years."

Taking her by the arm, Jason led her to his office, delighted to see her again, feeling young suddenly, as if all the years had fallen away. "Come in!" he urged. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

"More than you know," she murmured, casting him a sideways glance, thinking how good he looked, how good it was to see him again. She'd been right ,to come. He wasn't a king anymore, with a life and duties that could hold no room for her. Nor was he married now. . . though she tried not to hope he might still, somehow, feel as she did, what they'd felt in their youth. But, it was time he knew the truth. . .time that Seska knew as well.

"I've met your daughter," he was saying as they entered his office and he settled her in a chair, leaning back on his desk as he gazed at her fondly. "She's a fine cadet. You must be proud of her."

"I am, and I'm glad you approve of her," Lilith replied, looking away from a moment. Swallowing, taking a deep breath, she plunged right in. "You see. . .she's your daughter, too."

His face went blank with shock, as he stammered, "My. . .Seska?"

Feeling her heart sink, she hastened to assure him, "Not that I expect anything of you and she doesn't know. It's just that I thought you deserved to know."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he exclaimed, standing straight, a flash of anger in his eyes. "Years ago why?"

"Oh, Jason," she sighed. "You were the King and what was I? A scruffy little tomboy cadet? There was no room in your life for me then for us."

"Not such a tomboy as I recall," he replied softly, remembering. Moving to pull her to her feet, to hold her in his arms, he said quietly, "I loved you, Lilith, I would have loved our child. You should have told me, not borne this burden all alone."

"She's never been a burden, Jason, how could she be?" Lilith replied, fighting a sob. "She's your daughter! I wanted her, never wanted anything more in my life. And she's wonderful."

Jason hugged her tightly, and lightly kissed her brow. "I have a daughter," he whispered, amazed, thrilled. . .a little frightened. "Iwould it be alright to tell her now?" he asked, hopeful, wanting this suddenly, wanting more than anything to have a family again. . .to hold. . .to love.

"If you want to," Lilith agreed, glad to know he did. So glad to feel his arms around her again.

"Oh yes," he sighed, pulling back to smile at her, happiness glowing in his eyes, "I want to, very much."

And so they went to find Seska, to tell her the news, both of them so nervous they were shaking. What if she hated it, the whole idea? They found her in a class and asked that she be excused. Surprised to see her parent so unexpectedly, delighted, Seska hugged her mother enthusiastically, and then they went for a walk out to the garden in the back of the Academy, where there was a bench in the shade of an old tree.

Drawing her daughter down beside her, glancing at Jason for encouragement, then back to gaze into Seska's eyes, Lilith began a little tentatively, "Seska, I've never told you who your father was, only that I loved him very much, but couldn't tell him about you. I told you I'd explain when you were old enough. Well, you're old enough."

The young cadet frowned when her mother paused, confused, startled to be having this conversation with the Headmaster standing there. She flicked a look at Jason and it was the expression on his face that explained it all. Jason, Captain of the Argonauts, former King of Corinth, hero. . .and her Headmaster. . .was her father?

"You?" she breathed, her eyes wide, wondering what he thought of her, whether he wanted to know about her.

"Yes, me," Jason replied, smiling softly, nervously. "Your mother just told me and I only wish I'd known years ago. I know this is a shock for you and I don't expect you to like me straight off but I really hope we can become friends, at least."

"Poppa?" she murmured, tears brimming in her eyes, as she unconsciously lifted a hand toward him. She'd always wondered. . .wondered if her father would want her. . .and she could see in his eyes that he did. And, she felt all shivery inside, all trembling and wanting. . .needing.

Jason reached for her and pulled her up into a tight hug, whispering, "Oh my girl, my darling girl. . .I'm so glad"

Lilith sat with tears in her own eyes, one escaping to roll down her cheek and was touched when Jason held out a hand to her, drawing her up into a joint hug. "We're a family now," he choked through the lump in his throat, "if you'll have me."

She smiled brilliantly at him, then leaned in, her head on his shoulder, one arm around him, one around her daughter, and sighed with relief. Home. She was finally home.

********

Hercules and Iolaus were delighted to see Lilith and thrilled with the news. Iolaus had a few pithy observations to make about their youthful days at the Academy that Hercules chose not to share with the others, prompting Iolaus to laugh at him. Lilith, for her part, was glad to see Hercules again, and hugged him warmly. But, when she heard about Iolaus, her eyes flickered about the emptiness and her lips parted, as she sighed, "Oh Iolaus, I've missed you so much. I want to hug you, too."

"Tell her to consider herself well and truly hugged," Iolaus replied. "Better yet, hug her for me, big guy."

So, Hercules complied, while Lilith smiled sweetly at the place she knew Iolaus was standing.

Jason went about as proud as any father of a newborn daughter, except he had the fun of seeing her laughing and carrying on, brash and straightforward, a worthy student if not a brilliant one, and brave, taking on her male counterparts without blinking an eye and besting them better than half the time. "She takes after you," he observed fondly one day to Lilith, who he had prevailed upon to stay at the Academy, with him.

Seska felt as if the sun had come into her life, as if all the pieces that had been missing were now falling into place. She blossomed under her father's approval, feeling a new confidence and her mother's serene happiness was not lost on her.

"They all look like they belong together," Iolaus observed one evening as he watched them head out the gates for a walk. Turning to Hercules, he asked softly, "Does it bother you. . .I mean. . .Alcmene"

"No," Hercules shook his head, smiling softly. "Of all of us, mother would be the one who would most want him to be happy. And he is. . .they all are. I'm glad."

They fell into a thoughtful silence, reflecting that everything seemed to be working out for the best. Iolaus' twin had found the love of his life and had a wonderful, fulfilling future ahead of him. Jason had found an old love, and a new daughter, a family when he'd thought he'd spend the rest of his life alone. They were each very happy for their friends.

But, the happiness of the others, the brightness of their futures, was a sharp contrast to the dark shadows that loomed before them, their own future uncertain, definitely unsettled. Hercules cut a glance at Iolaus, his eyes worried. . .afraid. He could tell his buddy was restless, unhappy, that he couldn't hold Iolaus to that promise forever. But it very nearly killed him to think about what would happen then. And Iolaus was only too aware of Hercules' disquiet. Talking with the animals was okay as far as it went, but it was a long way from what he'd somehow imagined when he'd refused to go back to Elysium. He knew Hercules was avoiding trouble, sticking close to the quiet life of the Academy, and he knew why. But, Herc was 'way too young to 'retire', and the world needed him. It bothered Iolaus to know he'd become a 'problem', a burden, someone who caused more concern than he alleviated. None of this was working out the way he'd hoped but he didn't have a clue as to how to make any of it better.

It was also increasingly clear that the others were more at ease when he wasn't around, when they didn't have to remember to include him, so he'd again taken to roaming the woods while the others were occupied with their tasks. He returned in the evening to the staff mess to keep Hercules company over his meal, now that Jason was more often with Lilith and Seska in the main mess. During those times they'd pretend to one another that everything was fine, though each knew only too well that it wasn't. Then Iolaus would drift away again while everyone else slept. It was lonely, unfulfilling. But, he honestly loved the quiet of the forest, loved watching the animals, loved the smell of it, the sound of the rushing water in their favourite fishing stream. He drank it in and told himself it was enough.

One day as he was ambling back to the Academy in the late afternoon, he heard the shout of a messenger calling for Hercules. Quickening his pace, taking care not to 'flit', he arrived in time to see the guy hand a scroll to his buddy. Iolaus was curious but not surprised, well, not surprised that someone had sent Hercules had received a scroll, maybe surprised it had taken this long for the world to catch up with Herc and send him a request for help. That's what it would be. That's what it always was.

Iolaus knew he'd likely have to reassure Hercules that he wouldn't do anything stupid so that Herc would agree to help whoever needed him this time. Giving himself a mental kick, he told himself to get with the program and stop feeling sorry for himself. He'd wasted enough time on wishing things could be different than they were and it was time to move on.

He moved to stand beside his friend as Herc unfurled the missive, frowning in concentration as he read:

'Hercules, it's been a long time since last we spoke and I know you have been traveling difficult roads. I find myself having to demand another labour of you, though I had sincerely hoped the last would have resolved the threat to what you value most. And yet, a worse threat has arisen and must be resolved. I demand, in keeping with your oath so long ago to do my will, that you go to Crete, to destroy the Cretan Bull that guards a small seemingly insignificant cottage. It's a massive creature, turned mean, and defeating it will not be easy. But, if you succeed, you will want to share the refreshment you'll find on the kitchen table with the one who travels with you. I will pray for the success you both deserve. Eurystheus'

Thoughtfully, Hercules rolled the scroll back up and slipped it into his vest. Long ago, he'd been coerced into a vow to do Eurystheus' will to safeguard Iolaus' life, and had then been forced into a desperate final labour to remove the threat the gods held over them both. He'd been furious with Eurystheus at the time, until he'd won, and he'd understood the wisdom and courage of the older man in setting the task for him. Somehow, his old mentor had learned of their current situation, and though the note was cryptic, the demigod had no doubt it was the miracle he'd been longing for.

"What is it, Hercules?" Iolaus asked, concerned at the distant look on his partner's face, getting ready to launch into his 'well, of course you have to help,' speech.

Turning to gaze down at his best friend, Hercules replied evenly, "We're going to Crete. Eurystheus has something he wants me to do for him there. I have to honour the old vow."

The demigod wasn't prepared to share his hopes for what this might mean. There wasn't enough in the note, and perhaps he was only reaching for straws, desperate to believe that he was being handed a gift so precious he was afraid it would shatter if he held it too tightly. He couldn't raise Iolaus' hopes, it wouldn't be fair if it turned out he was just engaging in wishful thinking. But he couldn't help the hope he felt, and it shone in his eyes.

Surprised to hear who the message had been from, Iolaus studied his friend, knowing there was more, something Hercules wasn't telling him. It had been nearly twenty years since his buddy had sworn himself to do Eurystheus' will, and had as a result engaged in some pretty dangerous tasks at the time. But Eurystheus had found a way for them to beat the blackmail the gods held over them, Iolaus' life in exchange for Hercules agreeing to whatever they willed. To hear from the man now, after all these years. . .Iolaus wondered and couldn't help but see the hope in his best friend's eyes. Swallowing, trying not to read too much into Herc's expression, he asked, "When do we leave?"

"Right away," Hercules replied, turning to tell Jason they had a journey to take, a deed to do. 'A labour,' he thought as he headed into the building, 'a task for some great prize, a prize of immeasurable worth and meaning. . .gods. . .please let it be the 'prize' I want, need, most in this life. . .please.'

********

They caught a ship at Corinth, a merchantman with goods to trade with the wealthy Minoan people. A large ship, it made good time, but it still took three days to cover the distance across the turquoise seas. All that Hercules would share was that he had to destroy a bull that had turned mean and was terrorizing the populace. Iolaus studied him quietly and let it go. There'd be time enough to see what was going on when they got there.

It was an easy sail, and Jason had insisted upon paying the fare, so Hercules didn't have to work his way. They spent long hours by the rail, watching the eternal sea, at peace with one another. Iolaus was tickled, and not a little moved, by the way Hercules just ignored the sailors who clearly thought he was crazy, talking and laughing to himself by the ship's rail. Oh, at first the demigod had tried to explain, while Iolaus giggled hysterically, but after a while, he just gave up and let the sailors think whatever they wanted as they gave him a wide berth.

But, Iolaus was also mindful of his thoughts on the way back from Corinth, that he had to find a way to help Hercules find peace without him, should that ever be necessary. Because, though he could see the hope in the demigod's eyes, and could guess that somehow they were being offered some kind of reprieve, he didn't dare rely upon it. So, as they reminisced about the crazy times they'd shared, the triumphs, and laughed at the more ridiculous memories, like being purple, Iolaus found himself frequently finding the opportunity to reflect on how he'd loved his life and wouldn't have changed it, none of it. And, he found an equal number of occasions to observe on the good Hercules did, the difference he made in the lives he touched, the people who cared about him. . .the meaning of his life.

Hercules heard the quiet observations, or those offered teasingly, and those barked out in laughter. Heard them all, and knew what Iolaus was trying to tell him. That he'd have to find a way of letting his friend go without being destroyed by it. He knew Iolaus was concerned about him, wanted to know that he'd be alright if anything happened but Hercules couldn't believe that could ever be possible. He'd lost too much, all those he'd loved best and he just couldn't bear the idea of one day irrevocably losing Iolaus.

He didn't understand it himself, this need, this overwhelming sense that they were bound together, that one couldn't exist, not as a complete being, without the other. Gods, he'd tried to find his own way, but he'd felt empty and utterly devastated, as if his own soul had been ripped from his body. Others lost those they loved. Jason had recovered from losing his mother. The Jester had managed to live with the horror of what his Hercules had become. But, in his heart, Hercules knew he couldn't be whole without Iolaus by his side, as he'd been for as long as the demigod could remember. His mother used to tease them, used to say they shared a single soul, and he hadn't understood, not until the past year, how right she had been.

Without Iolaus, he just wasn't whole.

Hercules knew he couldn't go through it again. Ever since Hades had warned him that Iolaus could be lost if he continued exerting his will to impact on the world to help people, Hercules had felt as if he was walking on the edge of an abyss. He expected it to crumble out from beneath him at any moment, unpredictably, outside of his control. His security and balance rested upon the promise he'd demanded from Iolaus. He knew it was selfish, that what he'd demanded of his friend was in some ways unconscionablebut he couldn't help it. He'd do anything, demand anything, to keep his friend by his side. But, this wasn't really up to him. It was up to Iolaus. Everything depended on how long his friend would agree to leash his own will before it became too much and oblivion became more desirable that the guilt of not helping when and where Iolaus knew he could.

The promise Hercules had forced had been carefully crafted that night when he couldn't sleep. The wording was entirely deliberate. 'On my life', he'd made Iolaus vow, and he'd meant it. It was the ultimate selfishness, and Hercules knew it. He hoped he'd die before he lost Iolaus again and, if his hope wasn't to be granted, he'd decided he would kill himself rather than face the madness Iolaus' loss would bring. For himself, and for the world, his strength was too great, he could pose too much danger if he simply went mad. Oddly, the decision had brought him a measure of comfort. What good was a body anyway, once the soul was gone? Hercules hadn't shared any of this with Iolaus, wasn't sure he'd find the words to explain it. But, more, he knew he'd already placed intolerable burdens upon his friend. It was his decision alone to make, his life. . .his soul. . .his choice.

Perhaps, if they were lucky, if Fortune turned her fickle face toward them and smiled, perhaps this Cretan Bull was the key. And if it wasn't, well, he tried not to think about that. But, deep down, he knew if they didn't find a solution in Crete, he'd beg his father, agree to anything there had to be a way to make Iolaus safe without hurting him like this promise hurt him. And, if that failed, well, then it was only a matter of time.

That awareness of time, that realization that it was fleeting, that he couldn't count on having Iolaus much longer, made every moment precious. So, Hercules laughed and teased, was teased back and immersed himself in the joy that Iolaus brought into his life, grateful and made humble by the gift Iolaus made of himself, as he had always done, treasuring his friend and gifting him back with all that he was

********

They docked at the port of the capital city, Knossus, in the shadow of the massive palace that could house five thousand people in comfort. It was the marvel of their world, built by Daedalus to withstand earthquake and any attack, not that the Minoans were prepared for war. It wasn't a part of their culture of art and commerce. As they strode through the busy streets leading to the palace, Hercules marveled at what they had created here and wondered if it could last, if beauty could forever hold back greed and war.

He asked directions at the palace on how to find the Cretan Bull and it seemed everyone knew where it was to be found. A day's journey into the hills, to a narrow valley with a narrower river. He'd find the bull in a large fenced meadow against the cliffs. And, yes, there was an ancient cottage there, though none had ever visited it, flush against the unscalable cliffs as it was, the only path to it led past the jealous bull. No one knew who the cottage had belonged to, though it was rumoured to have been a favourite retreat of Gaia herself, it was only known that it had been there forever, and the bull had been there eternally guarding it from the curiousity of mortal eyes. The bull, their symbol of fertility, was believed to be Gaia's own. It was the only way they could explain the wonder of its size and longevity.

Thanking the priestesses who had given him the directions, for the Minoans still worshipped Gaia, the ancient goddess of the earth and not the Olympians, they set out on their trek into the interior. It was a pleasant journey, the island beautiful, rich in agriculture, lush with green mountains and rushing streams and rivers. Flowers bloomed wild and trees blossomed, scenting the air delicately around them. In its own way, Crete was a kind of paradise.

The journey was too long to complete that day, since their ship hadn't docked until well after the sun had reached its zenith. They made camp by a stream and Hercules fished his own way, much to Iolaus' teasing contempt, and they lingered over the fire, Hercules too excited by what the morrow might bring to relax into sleep.

"So. . .you're going to kill Gaia's bull," Iolaus observed dryly. "Do you really think that's wise?"

Hercules looked away as he shrugged. "It's a labour assigned by Eurystheus. I don't have any choice. If it angers her, she'll have to take it up with him and whoever concocted this up."

"Uh huh," Iolaus grunted, gazing across the fire with a knowing look, "so, you don't think he dreamed this up on his own?"

"I don't know, Iolaus. The other labours were all his idea so far as I could ever tell," Hercules replied blandly.

"What aren't you telling me?" the soul demanded, crossing his arms as he leaned against a tree and looked down at the demigod sitting cross-legged by the fire.

"What?" Hercules replied, an involuntary smile shocked to his lips. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come off it. I didn't fall out of an olive tree this afternoon. Something's up. Eurystheus has come up with something to help us, hasn't he?" Iolaus scoffed.

Hercules sighed as he looked into the flames. "Maybe. . .we won't know until we get there, and until I defeat the bull. I'm. . .I'm a little afraid to hope for too much, you know?"

"Yeah," his buddy sighed, moving to sit across the fire from him, "I know. Herc, , ,the things Eurystheus asks. . .they're dangerous. I don't want you to risk too much"

Hercules stared for a long moment into the flickering flames before he shook his head a little, and looked up, his eyes dark with his own promise, "I won't risk more than I think it's worth."

Iolaus rolled his eyes, as he protested, "That's what I'm afraid of! Herc"

But, the demigod cut him off, his voice steady as he demanded, "Iolaus, this time it is my choice. Whatever happens, I want you to remember your promise to me. . .on my life, you'll keep that promise."

"You're a hard man, Hercules," Iolaus sighed, twisting his lips in discontent as he gazed at his friend, his eyes clouded with fear and deep reluctance to agree to something which might well cost Hercules his life.

"Promise," the demigod pushed.

Gazing into the flames, Iolaus nodded once as he replied, his voice soft but oddly intense, "On your life, Herc. I promise."

********

It took the whole of the next morning, and then into the afternoon, before they crested the final hill and looked down into the long, narrow valley below, the thin ribbon of a river glinting in the sun as it meandered along the middle of the cleft between the mountain cliffs.

They could make out the meadow, and the high stone wall which enclosed itthe cottage against the far sheer wall of rock. . .and the bull.

They both paused in silent shock as they stared down at it. Though they were some distance away, they were staggered by the size and power of the beast.

"Dear gods, Hercules" Iolaus breathed. "It's a monster."

Swallowing, the demigod nodded but then simply squared his shoulders as he led the way down through the forest to the valley below.

"Wait!" called Iolaus, skipping a little in his haste to catch his friend as he ran down the steep path. "You can't just walk in there! You need a weapon!"

Hercules paused at that, and with another look through the trees at the beast below, he nodded. "You could be right." Striding to a sturdy oak, he reached up and ripped a thick branch from the body of the tree and tore smaller branches from it to create a lance. Reaching for the knife he carried in the back of his belt, the knife he and Iolaus had once forged together, he shaved the tip of the lance until the point was sharp. Slipping the knife back into his belt, he turned and continued down the narrow path.

Iolaus just looked at him, and then down to the bull below and shook his head. This was not good.

It didn't get any better as they got closer. The stone fence, as thick as a barricade, was as high as Hercules' shoulders. Beyond it, they could see the Cretan Bull clearly now, and it stood ten feet high at its shoulder. Heavily muscled with a hide like iron, it looked as if it had been carved of stone. Sensing their presence, the heavy head turned to face them, and they saw eyes blazing like twin fires, horns curved and shaped to dagger like tips and they could have sworn when it snorted at them that smoke blew from its nostrils.

"Uh, Hercules, I don't think this is such a good idea," Iolaus muttered with a shudder he couldn't quite suppress.

His head cocked a little as he studied the beast, Hercules shrugged. "Doesn't matter," he replied. "It's a labour set by Eurystheus. I have no choice."

"Bull!" protested Iolaus as he stepped in front of the demigod. Glancing over his shoulder meaningfully, he continued, "And I mean that with that guy in mind. That old vow doesn't mean anything anymore. What'll happen if you refuse. Some god'll show up and blast me? I'm already dead!"

Hercules just looked down at his best friend for a moment, then quietly replied, "You know what will happen, eventually. I won't just accept that, Iolaus, not when I have a choice."

Stepping around his friend, he tossed the lance over the wall, then jumped to lever himself up and over, into the field.

"Hercules!" Iolaus called out, but the demigod was already striding toward his fate. "Dammit," the soul muttered, passing through the wall to watch the battle play out.

"It'll be all right," Hercules reassured him, calling back over his shoulder, his eyes remaining on the bull that had turned to face him and was pawing the ground, its head low, snorting at the invasion of its turf.

"Yeah, right," Iolaus replied, his eyes narrowing as he watched the beast gather itself for its charge.

And then it was lumbering down the long field toward the demigod, its great hooves churning up the ground, the earth trembling with the weight of it as it picked up speed, coming faster than a spring flood tearing down a mountain.

Hercules took a balanced position, readying his improvised lance for the fatal thrust, tall and strong as he stood alone in the field, focused on the task at hand. The demigod felt curiously fatalistic as he watched the massive beast thundering toward him, not at all sure the flimsy oak lance would be sufficient to kill the monster. He might well die in this attempt, this hope that might even be misplaced, that there was something inside that cottage which could restore Iolaus, or in some way protect his soul. But, if he did die, he figured that at the least, they'd be souls who could hang around together because no one was taking his soul anywhere Iolaus couldn't go. He felt no fear for himself, only that he might let Iolaus down. On the other hand, if he won this contest, all their problems might well be over. Lifting his head, smiling in anticipation of watching his buddy drink from the chalice, he shifted a little, poised to thrust the lance as the bull pounded ever closer.

Iolaus watched, afraid to blink, as he watched the beast thunder down the field toward his best friend. Swearing to himself in his anxiety, he knew Herc was risking this for him and it was driving him crazy to just stand here and watch. Taking a mental breath, he tried to calm himself, telling himself that Hercules could do this. Herc could do anything. He'd be fine. And then he saw the massive bull swerve at the last moment, away from the thrusting lance, so that it scraped harmlessly along its side, leaving the demigod wide open to its relentless assault! Iolaus was already starting to run forward, when it's massive head rolled toward the demigod as it came on, undeterred, and determined to kill this trespasser.

Iolaus screamed as the dagger-like horn gored the demigod's side and the force of the blow knocked his best friend flying back to land hard in the rocky field, an audible 'thwack' as his head connected with a stone and he lay sprawled unmoving in the dirt, blood staining his vest.

The bull was charging after him, intent upon trampling its victim into the ground and Iolaus was pounding after it, knowing he could never catch it in time this way. . .knowing he could not watch it murder Hercules. In a blinding moment of almost raw terror, he threw his promise to the winds. A vow on Herc's life would be meaningless anyway if the demigod was dead.

"Sorry," he murmured as he flitted with supernatural speed to cut off the bull's charge. "For your lifeI have to do this!"

As he blew into position, Iolaus focused all of his force, everything that he was on creating an impassable wall between the bull and his best friend. "Get up!" he screamed just before the bull hit, knowing he couldn't hold it off forever, just long enough he hoped for Hercules to get himself out of the way.

Titanic power hit a will of steel, and dust blew up around them as the bull crunched to a halt, bellowing in surprise, then dug in its hooves to get past the puny being who'd dared to try to keep it from its kill. Iolaus pushed back with all his might, his energy focused on this one thing, to save Hercules' life. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.

Hercules groaned and lifted his head, shocked into motion when he saw what was occurring. The lance was still gripped in his fist and he scrambled to his feet. "IOLAUS!" he screamed. "STOP!"

His buddy had little choice. He'd expended all he had. Just as his strength failed, Hercules lunged in, driving the lance with all his power, made greater by his desperate fear and fury. "You promised me!" he screamed, unable to accept what Iolaus had done. . .overwhelmed to know it had been done deliberately, for him. The crude weapon plunged deep into the bull's body, tearing into its heart and bellowing its agony and rage, it dropped as if pole-axed straight to the earth.

Just next to the place where a wasted soul had crumpled to float about a foot off the ground, gray and insubstantial.

Hercules dropped to his knees, screaming, "NO!" as he looked into the fading features of his best friend.

"Live. . .Herc," Iolaus murmured, his eyes clouded, sightless, his voice thin and reedy, as insubstantial as a wisp of fog. "For. . .me."

"NO!" shouted the demigod again, mindless in his terror, as he scrambled to his feet and raced headlong to the cottage, driving the door from its hinges with his shoulder as he plunged inside. Oblivious to his own injuries, to the blood pouring from his side, he looked wildly around the dim interior and spotted the table and the plain clay chalice, worn and chipped.

Lunging forward, only then did he realize how badly he was hurt as he staggered, dizzy. "Not now," he growled, as he reached for the goblet and had to steady himself on the edge of the table to keep from collapsing. A trembling, unsteady hand gripped the precious cup, wondering what it contained. Salvation? Poison? Desperate, knowing that only this could save Iolaus, and only if he could get it back to him in time, Hercules lifted the cup to his lips. Just a sip. And he'd know. Know if it was a deadly poison or a potion to bring life.

Strength surged through him and he whirled back to the door, the chalice gripped in one hand, the palm of the other covering it, sealing the rim so none of the precious liquid could spill away. He charged back across the field, still tasting the ambrosia thinned with sweet nectar on his tongue, and fell to his knees by the wavering wisp of mist, barely discernable now as the shape of his friend. He tipped the goblet to let the potion flow toward the dim outline of his buddy's mouth, slipping a hand under the shadow of Iolaus' head to catch whatever spilled through the insubstantial remains of all that was left of his partner.

"Come on," he groaned, feeling liquid splash into his palm. Steadying himself, he poured more slowly, but continued to try to get the libation into his buddy, heaving a sobbing breath when Iolaus' form began to become clearer. . .less gray. . .less insubstantial. More. . .a little more. . .and still more, emptying what he'd caught into his hand back into the chalice, then laying his hand again beneath Iolaus' floating form. "Come on, buddy, come on," he begged breathlessly.

Iolaus' body grew heavy and sank to the earth, his head pillowed in Hercules' palm. The last of the potion dripped past his slack lips and Hercules tossed the empty clay vessel away, running his trembling fingers through his hair, then reaching to draw Iolaus closer against his body.

He shuddered to feel skin and muscle, his breath catching in his chest as he gazed down into Iolaus' pale face, still, unresponsive, but no longer only a wraith. Then, finally, he saw the rise and fall of Iolaus' chest as he drew in breath, felt the warmth return to his partner's skin. Hercules closed his eyes, drawing Iolaus tight to his chest, his head bent over his partner's, tears streaming down his face as he wept, blind with the relief that surged through his heart. . .and his soul.

It was long minutes later before Iolaus stirred, groggy, confused as he muttered, "Sorry. . .couldn't let. . .on your life. . .had to save"

"Shhh," Hercules soothed, trembling fingers stroking his buddy's curls back from his face. "Rest, Iolaus, just rest." Vaguely astonished that he still existed, Iolaus knew something was different, but he couldn't focus and drifted back into the darkness. He'd been so far gone that even the ambrosia had scarcely been enough to bring him back.

In the moment that he'd realized Iolaus had abrogated the promise, Hercules had been furious, furious with his partner for betraying something so sacred, furious with himself for having been injured and leaving Iolaus with little choice. And, he'd been terrified that at the very brink of salvation there would only be intolerable loss. But, the urgency to act had driven all feeling away, focusing all his attention on doing everything he could to save his friend. Now, he couldn't be angry, how could he be? He would have made the same choice to save Iolaus' life that Iolaus had just made for him, and he knew it. It was the story of their lives. At their most vulnerable, it was the other who was there, and the greatest loss one could suffer, was the greatest gift the other could give. They'd been lucky, they'd both survived once again. And all Hercules could feel was an immense, all-consuming gratitude that Iolaus was safe, at least for now.

As the tumult of his own emotions eased, Hercules shifted and picked his partner up, to carry him away from the carcass of the massive bull, back to the cool shadow of the stone wall. Leaning against it, Hercules slipped to the ground, moving to cradle Iolaus comfortably against his body and he just gazed down into the beloved face, his own transformed by the light of blissful happiness, as he murmured softly, "Thank you whoever you are. . .thank you."

********

It was another hour before Iolaus stirred again. Blinking against the light, he tried to remember what had happened. . . and then he stiffened in awareness. He could feel Hercules holding him! Startled blue eyes widened as they looked into the soft gaze above. "What?" he whispered, not daring to hope. The last thing he could remember was the bull pushing past him, Hercules screaming somewhere behind him. . .he was terrified that being able to feel Hercules' strong grip only meant that he'd failed. . .that Herc was dead too.

"Welcome back, buddy," Hercules replied softly, a warm smile playing on his lips. . .and then he pulled Iolaus toward him, hugging him tightly as he choked once again, "Welcome back!"

Iolaus was stunned for a moment as the words sank in. Back? Alive? With a body? Trembling with the awareness of being real, of having substance. . .of being able to touch and be touched again, Iolaus felt a blaze of incandescent joy burst through him as he hugged Hercules right back, holding on for all he was worth. Life! Hercules had won his life back. . .whole, real. Overwhelmed, overcome, he couldn't stop the tears that slipped down his cheeks, couldn't help crying with the unbelievable and achingly incredible wonder of it all.

And, for once, he didn't feel ashamed of the tears, didn't regret them.

Hercules just held onto him until the shudders of relief passed, oblivious to the tears on his own cheeks. The feeling of having Iolaus in his arms again, solid, real, was overwhelming as he closed his eyes and bent his head over his friend, his cheek resting against Iolaus' silken curls, breathing in the scent of him.

Finally, Iolaus quieted, resting against Hercules, his head on his partner's chest, hearing his heart beat. Sniffing, he said softly, "Herc. . . touch me . . .let me know I''m real."

Swallowing, sighing softly, Hercules murmured back, "Gods, Iolaus. . .it's been so long." Shifting his grip, slipping his hands under Iolaus' vest, he stroked the warm satiny skin, and sighed again as Iolaus turned his face up to him, and he lowered his lips to meet those that hungered for his own.

Slowly at first, gently, lips parting, they breathed each other's breath as their tongues touched delicately, lingering at the awesome reality. They lightly kissed one another's faces, tasting the salt of the tears so recently shed, tears of unbounded joy. Iolaus' hands came up to stroke through Hercules' hair, pushing it back from his partner's face as he gazed into those clear eyes, so full of love for him. "I love you," he said, his voice full. "It's been so hard, to not be able to touch you. . .feel you."

"I know," breathed Hercules, "I felt the same yearning." He bent his head to nuzzle along Iolaus' throat, to his ear, where he blew softly, then nibbled at Iolaus' lobe rejoicing at the sound of Iolaus' low moan of pleasure. Coming back to capture his lover's lips, he delved deeply, hungrily now, feeling his need, his urgency grow. Pushing off Iolaus' vest, he let his hands roam his partner's shoulders, back and chest, rubbing at the hard little nubs that rose to meet his fingertips.

Iolaus met Hercules' kiss with a fierce hunger of his own, pulling Herc's shirt and vest from his belt, shoving them off those strong shoulders, forcing Hercules to break the contact with his body, though he ached at the loss of that touch, to push the garments to the ground. His hands played over the muscles, the impossibly strong back, then down along his partner's sides to slip down past his belt and grasp his buttocks, pulling Hercules toward him. And, feeling Herc swelling against him, his nimble fingers came back to loosen the leather belt and to undo the codpiece, taking Hercules into his hand, gripping him firmly.

"Ahh," the demigod moaned at the touch, arching against his lover. "Not yet," he warned. "Not too fast. . .slow. . .I want us to make this last."

Iolaus grinned then as he looked into the passion-glazed eyes of his friend. "Oh yeah?" he teased, his grip tightening as he pumped up and down Herc's length. "I've been waiting for more than a year for this. . .I can't wait any longer."

Pushing Hercules' backwards, he eased his buddy's pants down off his hips, but couldn't be bothered freeing Hercules any further. Eagerly, desperate to taste, his lowered his head, his lips glazing the tip, licking lightly at the salty moisture that dripped there, while the fingers of one hand tickled Herc's sac, causing the demigod to involuntarily arch his hips, wanting more. Unable to resist, not wanting to resist.

Iolaus' mouth captured Hercules and swallowed him deeply and suddenly, making his lover cry out at the sudden heat and wetness that surrounded him tightly. His fingers tangling in Iolaus' curls, Hercules began to pump slowly into his lover's mouth, being ravished, his head back. . .panting with want and need. Iolaus braced on hand on Hercules' hip, while his other quested lower, stroking the sensitive skin behind his buddy's scrotum, drifting back further and finding the tight entrance to his lover's body. Taking his time, easing one finger in gradually in time to the tempo Hercules' was setting, he dipped deeper, stroking more firmly. . .and found Herc's prostate.

Crying out, Hercules arched hard, filled with immense streaking flashes of sensation, carrying him up, higher and higher. As Iolaus stroked him again, while his mouth began to pump harder, his tongue tracing the vein along the length of his penis with every stroke, Hercules let go the bounds of thought and lost himself to the incredible sensation of being loved, as no one else ever loved him. Moaning, crying out, he went with the passionate spiral that spun him higher, his breathing fast and shallow, tightness growing in his gut and in his balls. Iolaus stroked him again, pumped faster, sucked harder, bringing him to impossible heights, until he could hold it no longer and groaning inarticulately with pleasure, he came fast and hot into his lover's mouth.

Iolaus swallowed, taking it all, greedy for the taste and sensation of having loved Hercules to utter distraction. Gently, he finished, licking his partner's member as he stroked Hercules' hips and thighs. Then he moved back up his lover's body, kissing the hard nipples tenderly, knowing they would be sensitive now, nuzzling Herc's throat, gentling him and finally coming back to capture Hercules' lips with his own in a long, tender kiss.

Hercules' arms came up to hold Iolaus close, one hand on the back of his partner's neck, his long fingers digging into the curls. He could feel Iolaus' need pressing against him, and he rolled, not breaking the kiss, holding Iolaus securely, until the warrior was lying on the ground, Hercules bent over him. Lifting his head, his brushed his fingers through Iolaus' silken curls, gazing into the eternal depths of his lovers' eyes.

"Touch me, Herc. . . touch me all over. . ." Iolaus breathed, longing in his voice and eyes.

Smiling gently, Hercules shifted to first kick off his own boots and pants, then turned to loosen Iolaus' belt and codpiece, sliding the leather off his legs, pulling off his boots. Sighing deeply, he turned on his knees to lean forward and cup Iolaus' face with his hands, bending to kiss him deeply, hungry for him. Then he let his hands roam that beloved body, lost for too long. He traced his fingertips down along Iolaus' neck and throat, bending to plant a kiss in the hollow above his collarbones. Then his hands moved down along Iolaus' shoulders and arms, kneading gently, stroking his hands and fingers, then lightly brushing back up raising the fair, tiny hairs along his buddy's arms, causing Iolaus to shiver sensuously. Then, down across his buddy's well muscled chest and ribs. . .and it was then he noticed the second gift. . .the scar was gone. There was no trace of the blades that had ripped into his lover's heart, and he gasped, overcome with relief and gratitude. Pressing his eyes closed against his tears, Hercules bent to love Iolaus' body with all that he was, dipping to suck first on one hard nub and then the other while his fingers ensured the twin didn't feel ignored. Breathing deeply, Iolaus arched his back up, lifting himself to Hercules' lips, his hands playing with the demigod's hair.

Lying there, Iolaus watched his lover and felt a deep welling of emotion build within him. Gods. . .he'd never thought to know this again. . .to know Herc's hands on his body. Herc's lips and tongue, so strong, so infinitely gentle and then demanding. Never thought to be able to feel like this again. . .loved, wanted . . .safe. Had only expected an eternity of longing, of never being able to give love like this. . .or to receive it. Tears burned in his eyes as he took a shuddering breath, moved beyond words at the miracle that had been granted to him. To them.

Hercules was moving again, down along his body, licking and planting light kisses, sucking and dipping his tongue into Iolaus' navel as his hands traced his buddy's hips. He knew Iolaus was hard, wanting him. . .but it wasn't time yet. He wanted to linger over the golden skin, wanted to listen to Iolaus' breathing quicken as his need and want grew. His hands moved down along his partner's legs, massaging lightly, kissing his inner thighs, knees and then his ankles as Hercules kneaded his feet, relaxing Iolaus, feeling the tension leave him. . .suckling on his toes until his partner giggled at the sensations and Hercules couldn't help but laugh himself at the well remembered reaction. He raised his head and looked into Iolaus' eyes, brimming with love for him, alight and alive. . .so alive.

Hercules felt something shudder inside, and he had to take a couple of deep breaths as he felt his heart come back together, his soul heal. "Gods, I love you," he whispered hoarsely, swallowing against the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.

Iolaus' jaw clenched as he swallowed against the lump in his own throat as he gazed at the only person he'd give everything he was for. . .gladly, without hesitation. A tear trickled from the corner of one eye as he lifted a hand and Herc clasped it, their fingers entwining. "I love you, too, Herc. . .I haven't the words, I can't. . .you mean everything to me."

Hercules moved forward, leaning to kiss Iolaus, their tongues tangled and their breath merged, as their souls had merged long ago. As they kissed, the demigod let one hand drift down his lover's body, feeling it respond to him, until he found Iolaus' shaft, hard, questing for him. Iolaus sighed under him as he felt Herc grip him, the demigod's thumb tracing the vein from root to tip. And, then Hercules was again kissing his way down his partner's body, as Iolaus' legs opened unconsciously. The demigod shifted to move himself between Iolaus' legs, to kneel there, bent over him, his lips now caressing the weeping head of Iolaus' penis, his tongue flicking and circling as his fingers began a slow, rhythmic pump, tighter and harder.

Iolaus arched up, wanting more, his heels digging into the earth as his knees came up, his fingers tangled in Herc's hair. Hercules swallowed him into a place of hot wetness and Iolaus gasped, thrusting up. The demigod's fingers toyed with Iolaus' balls, squeezing gently as he felt them swell and fill, and then as Iolaus lost control and started pumping hard into his sucking mouth, he slipped a finger inside, stroking firmly, knowingly. . .remembering . . .and Iolaus cried out as he arched hard, waves of sheer ecstasy spiraling through his being, taking him past awareness of individual sensations into a wave pool of sensuality, lifting him, drowning him, taking him panting to the heights and he pumped faster as Herc sucked harder, drawing him deeper into that hot, wet, tight place of tenderness and longing. Crying out, he spurted hard, but Hercules didn't swallow, wanting this moisture, having plans for it.

The demigod was hard again with need and want. . .and the desire to give all of himself, to lose himself inside Iolaus, held captive by love. He took all Iolaus gave him and coated himself with his lover's essence, warm and slippery. As Iolaus lay beneath him, sobbing for breath, Hercules slipped two fingers into his lover's tight warmth, slowly, not rushing, stroking, gentling him. . .relaxing him while making Iolaus' body crave more. Moaning a little, Iolaus pushed back against his questing fingers, then arched with a cry as Hercules found his prostate and stroked over it, and again. . .and again. Herc slipped in a third finger, widening Iolaus, preparing him, while his other hand reached to rub Iolaus' nipples sending a combination of delicious sharp surges of sexual excitement through his body, resonating and building.

Wanting more, wanting it all, Iolaus moaned and pushed back against Hercules' fingers, widening his legs then hooking them around the demigod's waist, his heels drawing the demigodís body toward him. "I want you, Herc," he urged. "Please. . .I need to feel you inside. . . "

Swallowing, Hercules' hands moved to lift his buddy's buttocks and pull him forward onto his knees, spreading the globes of flesh wide and he positioned himself, pushing himself inside, slowly. . .taking his time, not wanting to hurt, knowing his size was a lot to take. But. . . it had been a year. A year of memories and yearning. A year of want and frustration. . . of incalculable loneliness and need. Iolaus dug in his heels and pulled himself forward onto Hercules, sheathing him in one smooth motion, taking all that Herc was as he arched his back and gasped for the relief and pleasure of the welcome pain.

Hercules gasped and had to fight to maintain his control. Gods. . .so tight and hot. . .Iolaus' eyes on him, wanting him, Iolaus' legs holding him tightly, demanding all he was. Their eyes locked as Hercules began to stroke himself slowly, almost fully out and back in, rocking his hips, feeling Iolaus' muscles clench around him, demanding him. . . stroking against Iolaus' sensitive spot, smiling as his lover arched with a sharp cry of wonder and joy, stroking, pumping harder, gripping Iolaus' hips firmly, hearts pounding in unison, breathing together, as the sensation of wonder and livelong love built within each of them, until it was blinding with its intensity and Hercules' couldn't control himself any longer but pounded without restraint into his partner's depths, and Iolaus rose to meet each thrust, wanting more, always more. . .harder, faster, higher, deeper, body to body, life to life, heart to heart, soul to soul. Hercules reached to grip Iolaus' shaft, hard now and wanting, stroking hard and fast in tempo to the thrust of his hips as he thrust into Iolaus' body and Iolaus arched to impale himself fully on Hercules' shaft, almost crazed by the sensations that ripped through him, filling him with love and consummated desire.

Hercules' head flew back as he arched and cried out with joyous abandon, his inarticulate cry of love mingling with Iolaus' on the wind as Iolaus' hips thrust against him and he too felt himself lost in the wonder of this love they shared. One more, then again, not wanting it to end even as he exploded inside Iolaus' body, filling him with the warmth of life and love, even as Iolaus' burst, his semen raining upon them, a mist of love. Hercules looked back down into his lover's eyes, drowning in them. Leaving himself inside that wondrous warmth and strength, he fell forward onto his arms, his fingers caressing Iolaus' face, and bent to kiss him deeply, with a lingering tenderness.

"You are my life, Iolaus. . . you are all that is good in me. . . .my strength, my heart. . .my soul," he murmured, tears again prickling his eyes. "I am so lost without you."

"Oh, Herc," Iolaus sighed, pulling his lover against him, cradling Hercules in his arms as his buddy nuzzled his neck and ear. "I don't even exist without you."

They laid together a long time, gently touching, marveling at the gift, so unlooked for, so desperately longed for. . . this. . . being together, nothing between them. Just this . . . it was all they craved, all they wanted of life.

"I was jealous of Nebula," Hercules confessed, his voice little more than a whisper. "I hated her after. . . hated that your love for her. . . "

"Shh," Iolaus soothed. "I know. . . I'm sorry. But, I could never have stayed with her, never have abandoned you. . . .she knew that. We belong together. Gods, even Hades recognized that and gave me leave to stay with you."

"I don't want to ever lose you again," Hercules murmured, listening to Iolaus' heart beat, closing his eyes to lose himself in it.

"I was afraid, for a while. . . that Morrigan. . . well, that she'd replaced me. . . " Iolaus admitted then, swallowing, remembering his sense of abandonment when Hercules hadn't come to see him. . . had seemed to be forgetting him. Remembering how guilty he'd felt for his selfishness. . . how he'd tried to shut it away, only wanting Hercules to find some happiness.

"No," Hercules replied, raising his head to gaze at Iolaus and brush his curls back from his face. "You can put a salve onto to wound, to try to soothe it a bit. . . but you know it doesn't work. The wound is still there, gaping and terrible, agonizing in the intensity of its pain. . . never healing, always tearing open with each new day. . . gods, Iolaus. . . I could hardly breathe for the pain of losing you."

"I was driving the folks in the Elysian Fields crazy with my own misery," Iolaus smiled, stroking Herc's hair back, letting his hand rest on his lover's shoulder. "Paradise is an empty desert without you in it. . . I guess, for me, paradise will only and always be where you are."

Hercules gazed down at Iolaus, then nodded and bent again to kiss him, then just held him, as he'd longed to hold him for so very long. Friends all their lives, lovers since their youth. . . swordbrothers of the heart and body. . . sharing a single soul. Finally, finally reunited, the way they were always meant to be. Longed to always be.

********

Iolaus was a man reborn, in every sense of the word. He couldn't get enough of being solid! As they made their way back to Knossus, he deliberately tramped through every stream they came through, splashing and laughing like a kid. He'd try to catch fish the way Herc did, giggling in delight when he was successful and then just toss them back in again. As they moved through the forest, he pushed at trees and rocks, repeatedly relieved to not be able to simply pass through themonce he remembered. The first time they'd come to a sizeable oak, he'd forgotten and had tried to walk right through it, only to end up on his butt, rubbing his head and giggling like a maniac.

He kept up a non-stop chatter all the way back to the city, partial phrases and excited statements of anticipation. "Gotta hug Lilith and pound Jason on the back!", "Wow, wait'll Jason realizes he can really see me, hear me. . .no more of having to put up with the pitiful stories you tell!", "Fishing. . .we have to go fishing. . .and to a festival. . .which one is on this time of year?", "Boar stew," he sighed blissfully, "and fresh baked bread. . .and rabbit!" And, "taverns. . .ale. . .and barmaids!" he giggled, "Dancing. . .and, and everything!" And, "I can fight now, back you up. . .like it used to be. . .gods," he sighed in relief. "Oh, and we've got to go see Iph. . .let him know everything's alright," softly, as he remembered how Iphicles had reacted to knowing he was but a ghost.

Hercules nodded, grinned, murmured, "Uh huh," and laughed outright at the more boisterous antics. The world was alive again, full of sound and colour, laughter and joy and he couldn't get enough of it.

But all that was nothing compared to when they finally arrived in the town. Iolaus grabbed the first pretty girl he saw and whirled her around in an impromptu dance, while Hercules apologized, trying to explain his friend had been 'away' for a while. When they hit the market, Iolaus reached for an apple, and bit into it, an expression of rapture on his face and then couldn't resist cartwheeling down the mosaic paving outside the palace, drawing startled attention from the priestesses and then he actually kissed one of them, bringing a blush to her cheek and a twinkle to her eyes. When they ambled past the women's bathhouse, he deliberately looked at Hercules and tried to walk through the wall, laughing so hard when he couldn't that he almost fell down and had to lean on the wall for support.

Hercules rolled his eyes, and lent his buddy support until he could stand on his own again. Happy. This is what it felt like to be happy. He'd forgotten. They both had.

Finally, they made it to the dock and learned a vessel wouldn't be departing for Corinth until the next morning. They bought some cheese and bread from a food cellar and took themselves off to sit on the edge of the dock, down at the far end, away from the bustling workers.

"Yummm," Iolaus sighed as he munched the simple meal. As far as he was concerned it was ambrosia. As they watched the sun set in the west, its dying light staining the sea a brilliant pink verging on deep rose, Hercules looped an arm around his buddy's shoulders and Iolaus let himself be pulled back to rest against the demigod for a quiet moment.

"How'd you do it, Herc?" he asked quietly, finally calming down enough to remember to ask. "How'd'ya get me back?"

"Remember the cottage in the back of the meadow?" Hercules replied, smiling softly.

"Yeah?"

"There was an old pottery chalice of ambrosia and nectar on the table," the demigod explained. "It wasn't easy getting it into you. I mean you'd just about disappeared. I was afraid."

Iolaus pulled away at the tremble he heard in his buddy's voice at the terrible memory. Turning to face Hercules, he offered, "It's over, Herc. I'm sorry it was so hard."

Which reminded Hercules, "You promised you wouldn't do that!" he scolded, but gently, no longer needing the anger, understanding too well what had driven his best friend to risk oblivion. Not for the world this time. For him.

"Yeah, well. . .I'd warned you it couldn't last" Iolaus offered lamely, looking away. "I couldn't just stand there and watch that brute crush you into the earth," he added quietly. Perking up, he added a trifle impishly, "Besides, I figured if the promise was 'on your life' and you were dead, it wouldn't mean anything anyway, so I just pushed it a bit."

"Pushed it," Hercules echoed. Then smiled, thinking of how Iolaus had held off the raging bull with the simple, sheer force of his will. "Well, that you did. Almost too far. Now that you're back, how about you make sure you don't die again anytime soon. It really wears me out, you know?"

Iolaus snickered a little as he replied, "Okay. I won't if you don't."

Chuckling, Hercules couldn't resist ruffling his buddy's hair as he replied, "I'm the not the one who routinely throws himself in front of trouble."

Pulling away, feigning umbrage, Iolaus snapped, "Oh no? Well, I beg to differ and I could give you countless, countless examplesbut standing in front of a monstrous bull that's thundering toward you with no more than a toothpick in your hand comes to mind. I'm not the only one who takes risks! Standing in front of a raging bull. How crazy is that?"

"Hey, I had a good reason for that!" the demigod protested, his eyes twinkling.

"Really? What reason could ever be good enough for that kind of insanity?" Iolaus demanded, shuddering as he again remembered the moment when the bull swerved away from the lance and gored his friend.

"Saving your soul," his best friend replied quietly, all trace of laughter gone from the eyes that gazed gratefully upon the partner Hercules had come too close to losing forever.

"Oh, well. . .yeah, I guess that's okay, so long as you had a reason," Iolaus allowed, bowing his head, humble before the immensity of love Hercules felt for him.

"I always have a reason but not often one that's as important to me as this one was. . .as you are," the demigod clarified, once again looping his arm around Iolaus' shoulders. "I'm glad you're back."

"Thanks, Herc," his buddy replied softly. "For everything. . .for the bull. . . but almost more for not caring that everybody thought you were crazy whenever you talked to me in public! You are one really brave guy, you know that? I had my reasons, too, you know, for jumping in front of that bull. I know I broke my promise to you but, well, when it comes to reasons, I had the best reason in the world."

"I know," Hercules sighed wondering again how he ever deserved what Iolaus so selflessly offered, all, everything that he was, and he gratefully squeezed his friend's shoulder, knowing he'd never have the words to really express how he felt. "Thanks."

Gazing out at the tranquil sea, Iolaus reflected, "But, all things considered, I think I'll stick to living for a while. I'm not cut out to be a ghost. Being dead just isn't me, you know?"

Hercules grinned as he gave his friend a playful shove. Remembering the bathhouse in particular, he laughed, "I know. Believe me, I know! It's good to have you back. . really back, I mean."

"Believe me, it's good to be back!" Iolaus replied, meaning it, especially knowing it couldn't last forever, but was only one more miraculous reprieve. Jabbing Herc with his elbow for the hell of it, he teased his friend into a light wrestling match that ended up tumbling them both into the water. Coming up to the surface, spluttering with laughter, he thought with exuberant joy at being alive, 'Even if it's only for a while. . .gods, it is so good to be alive!'

********

"Well, that's done then," Hades murmured with a certain satisfaction as he turned from his window on the world.

"Hmm," Zeus nodded, sipping his wine. For one, he was glad it over and done. His grandmother had not been pleased to lose a bull she'd had for eons, but she had a soft spot for her great-grandson and his irrepressible friend, so she'd agreed to allow the labour to be devised. Atropos, on the other hand, well, she'd been harder to placate, and he'd finally just told her that if Hercules succeeded in his labour, she'd have to make good on the deal, and that was that.

"How long before they figure out that new body is as eternal as the soul within it?" the God of the Underworld wondered.

"Quite a while," his brother responded. At the questioning look, Zeus continued, "They both have a great deal to learn yet. Iolaus has to learn that a time will come when he won't be able to save Hercules' life and he'll have to learn how to live with that. Hercules has to learn that he is indeed half-mortal and come to terms with an existence without Iolaus by his side."

"After all this?" Hades protested, imagining the angst yet to come, shuddering at it. "Why?"

"Neither will be quite whole until they learn to stand on their own but it will all only make them stronger together in the end," Zeus replied sagely. "Besides, Hercules will bargain anything to ensure an eternity neither of them quite believes in yet. So Iolaus' body can be injured, sorely injured, but he will heal. And grow old. Until one day when I decide the time has come. One day, when I'll reveal to them both that Iolaus is also now a god, though a lesser one. A warrior god. One day. . .but not yet. If I told them now, they'd more likely throw the gift back in my face than thank me for it!"

Hades shook his head at his brother's machinations, but whatever he might have said was lost when Ares blazed in from Olympus. "Alright," he demanded, "how'd you do it?"

He'd been watching, closely, and hadn't seen any evidence of direct interference by any god, let alone these two. But he knew they had to have been responsible. Which meant Zeus had violated one of his own principal rules.

The brothers shrugged, both assuming looks of injured innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about," Hades replied with a sardonic chill.

"Nor I," Zeus proclaimed with majestic affront at being accused of violating his own rules. The very idea!

"The runt is back and don't tell me you didn't make it happen," Ares stormed, his eyes flashing. He had every intention on trading on Zeus' weakness for his 'favourite' son. The God of War had his own 'intervention' all planned out.

Zeus shrugged, as he replied with a certain interest, "Really? The last I'd noticed, Eurystheus had sent Hercules on yet another labour. Those labours were your doing as I recall."

Ares' eyes narrowed as he studied the two scheming gods, knowing he'd been had. Well, he'd figure it out, if it took a thousand years. There was time. . .all the time in the world.

Growling low in his throat with frustration, he vanished in a black cloud of smoke.

Hades smirked as he lifted his goblet to toast his brother's ingenuity and Zeus lifted his own to toast Hades' success in implementing his scheme. But, just before he took another drink, the King of the Gods threw a stern look at his brother as he growled, "Oh, no more barring of Elysium or inadvertently creating immortals."

"Don't worry," Hades assured him. "I don't plan to ever do anything like that again."

Still, he thought as he sipped his libation, he wasn't displeased to have found he'd had an unexpected power. Or to have used it. If only once.

It made things a little more interesting to think that even as gods, they didn't know everything.

********

Atropos sulked, and sniffed as she regarded the tapestry, irritated with her sisters' benign acceptance of it all. "Gods. . .always wanting their own way," she muttered.

Lachesis calmly entwined the new length of golden thread, weaving it into place along the bronze one. "At least the shadows of evil are gone, and the threads are strong again. He helped rid us of Dahok. The gift of his life was little enough in return."

Stuffing her shears into her apron, Atropos shrugged, then nodded grudgingly. "Yes, I suppose you're right. But mark my words, that one is nothing but trouble. He'll be messing up the pattern again before we know it. Even gods can be threatened, especially if they don't even know they're a god! And that Son of Zeus, going around thinking he's invincible. . .well, we'll see."

Clothos just bowed her head over her spindle, smiling cheerfully as she spun long lengths of golden thread, glad she no longer had to hide them away in her own pocket for when they'd be needed. It seemed everyone had finally seen what she'd known for a long time. This world needed these two heroes, needed them bound together, so they'd be strong, stronger than either could be alone,needed them now and always would.

Finis Finally! !

The defeat of the Cretan Bull, sacred symbol of fertility, by the Son of Zeus is, in its way, a metaphor for the defeat of the Minoan culture by the Greeks, and the emergence of the male-oriented pantheon of Olympus over the more ancient female-oriented earth goddess.