Hera reclined in a throne like chair in her perfect human form. She looked around her private room where she received the most favored of her minions. The room was not particularly large, but it was opulent in every way, not overdone. Magnificent works of art brightened the room. Statues of her, her children, and her wayward husband were scattered on tables and small stands made of exotic woods and precious metals. A huge window opened out onto the beauty of Olympus as seen from far above where her private estate hung in the airs above the earth. It the other part of the room away from the receiving area was an alcove with a bed. This large ornate piece of furniture was not for sleeping but was for the few sexual rendezvous that she allowed with her most trusted servants. Now the bed was empty and she sat by the window. She waited, now getting impatient. <{>In an instant, the petite figure of Discord materialized before her. As she completed the spell that transported her, she fell to one knee before her master.

"Great mother of all," Discord said smoothly.

Hera snorted. "Oh, be still. Save the groveling for the War God. It doesn't work on me," the Queen of Heaven said sourly. She glared at the dark creature who rose from her kneeling and stood with hands on hips.

"Very well then," Discord replied. "What?"

Hera raised one perfect eyebrow. "Don't be disrespectful or you will suffer more than you can imagine."

Discord put her hands down. "Yes, mistress. Tell me what I can do for you."

Hera smiled. "There now. That was much better." She looked out the window and then back at her servant. "Now, tell me how it is going at the Amazon Nation, my wayward children."

Discord swallowed and cleared her throat. "The council has chosen to make the sacrifice. And the patrol captured Hercules." She stopped to watch the reaction. Hera looked up at her, her eyes narrowing. "They have taken him back to his infancy as you commanded.

He will be the sacrifice for the return of the fruitfulness of the earth. Gaia will have to nourish herself on the blood of the bastard son of Zeus." Discord smiled.

Hera glowed with smug emotion. "My daughter, you have done so well and I will reward you well. Perhaps I will give you the Amazon Nation to rule." She smiled again. "But we are far from done with this campaign."

"What would you have of me now, mistress?"

"Just watch and wait," Hera replied. "Keep track of Hercules in his present state. This is going well and pleases me greatly but if he is restored or rescued, it will NOT please me." She glared at the godlet, her gaze now frosty.

"I understand," Discord replied. "May I ask a question?"

Hera sniffed. "What?"

"How have you done this?" Discord asked trying not to sound too interested.

"You mean Gaia's illness?"

"Yes."

Hera smiled again but this affect made Discord feel a chill. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about how this complex magic is being wrought. I have allegiances with powers far beyond this petty plane. Now go and keep your eye on the Amazons and Hercules. Go now." Her comments signaled that the interview was over.

Discord nodded her respect and disappeared. She thought about hovering near Hera's private place but feared that the Queen would detect her snooping and punish her so the goddess cleared out and went back to the earthly plane, transforming herself into the young Amazon known as Keoli. The original Keoli now wandered in the Amazon land of the dead, a wraith robbed of life and memory as Discord took her place when the goddess was not posing temporarily as other more powerful Amazons. Discord rematerialized as Keoli in the space between two huts, adjusted the vest and skirt of the young warrior and stepped out to look around. Young girls were coming down the road on the way to the practice field. Discord blended into the group, giggling and hailing friends.

The youngsters were talking again of the secret society of women known as the Forum. Discord had reported back to the Queen a while ago after being ousted from the very group that the girls now talked about but this was still not common knowledge. The young Amazon smiled as she listened to the others gossiping and whispering. As with many in the Nation, the girls worshiped Hera as they had been taught to do, but discontent with the fickle goddess was rising and the Forum had many glorious and famous champions that were supposed to be in their ranks. The secret group was beginning to take on a legendary quality that appealed to the young. The present rebellious opinion of the girls was one of adoration for the outlaws.

"Fools," Discord thought. "Hera will win this one." She thought idly of the power that Hera referred to. This would bear watching. She wanted to be on the winning side and despite what these fools and the Forum outlaws thought, Hera's star was rising. The gods of Olympus might be on their way out. Old gods and goddesses waned and new powers arose. This was the way of things. Discord was a cosmic survivor. She wanted to be on side in ascension. Hera just might be joining that side. She giggled and went into the role that she had chosen, leaving the thoughts of plots and powers aside for the time being.

Hera watched Discord leave her room. She reached out with her senses to make sure that the prying little goddess was gone. She knew the nature of Discord and knew she could count on the goddess to be as mean as a snake, slippery as the proverbial eel and as amoral as a Warlord's whore. In short, the being was perfect as her vehicle of action.

Hera knew that she was alone now. She got up and walked over to the bed sitting down at the edge. Her demeanor had changed. She waited now and she knew that she would wait until she was summonsed. She put her hands in her lap, lacing the beautifully manicured fingers together. She sighed.

The room began to dim as the earthly sun set. Hera waited, now tapping her toe impatiently. She could feel her anger rising. What had she been thinking to link herself to a dark power? She knew so little about what she was what dealing with but she knew instinctively that she was near great power, greater than anything that she had experienced before. So she waited. She chastised herself for her impatience. This shadowy force was her way to overcome the restricting, humiliating dominance of men.

Regardless of who this shade may be, she would be able to handle herself and handle this being. She sighed, remembering the exhilarating feeling of power that had emanated from it.

As she thought, she realized that she was feeling that power again. She sat up straight as a shadow formed in the light of the window. Here was the power that could command the life or death of nature. The shadow never became fully visible but hovered by the window.

"Speak," it whispered.

"The sacrifice is arranged," she said, trying to retain her dignity. She glanced at the shadow, then let her eyes roam around the room so as not to seem too intimidated. "The child to be sacrificed is none other than Hercules."

"And he is worthy?" the shadow asked.

"He is the son of my husband, King of the gods," she replied.

"King of the Greek gods," the shadow corrected. "There are many deities and many planes. Is this Hercules worthy?"

"He is …," Hera hesitated. "He is a great warrior, a champion of the people."

"Then he will do."

"I am still not sure why the earth must suffer," Hera said. "I need to understand."

"You need to understand nothing but I will indulge you because it amuses me," said the ominous dimness. "You wish power, I know. I will give you power over this plane if you give me what I want. I am … inconvenienced at this time. The blood of a hero and the strong suffering of the life-force must be given to open the way for me to overcome my … temporary problem. "

Hera felt a chill as the words were whispered. She wondered if she was doing the right thing to ally herself with this creature but her hesitation was momentary. The feel of power was exhilarating. She could not pass up the opportunity to rise higher than Zeus.

"The blood of a hero," she repeated. "I will be personally responsible for overseeing this detail."

"Excellent," the shadow replied.

"By what name shall I call you," she asked, conversationally.

"My lord."

Hera knew she had been put in her place. She lowered her eyes and waited. Soon the shadow was gone.

Ares was quiet for a long while as the two warriors traversed the wide plain and began climbing into the foothills. At first it was a gentle rise, an easy hike but soon it began to take effort. Kendaa was use to hard marches and difficulty but Ares could go into battle and yield himself to a warrior's fury. Then as quickly as the battle was won, he could wish himself back to the ease of Olympus. He had never had to keep going after the battle, keep marching in order to find a suitable place and then build a camp, set up safety for the soldiers, then rotate through the guard duty after setting up the camp's ongoing duties of fixing food, maintaining clothing and arms, and rendering medical care. These small details of mortal existence had not been an issue for consideration before. Even coming here in the past, he was able to leave when the amusement wore off.

Now he had to persevere. Kendaa said nothing but followed, keeping an eye on their rear although they had not seen one other creature since arriving. The vast plains seemed even deserted by the dead.

Then Ares stopped. From behind the boulder he was now circumventing, came a young warrior, Amazon by the look of her but pale with eyes vacant of the life force.

Kendaa came up behind Ares, then gasped. "Keoli," she said. "What are you doing here?"

The young girl frowned and looked at the woman puzzled. "I don't know you. I don't know where I am …" Her voice faded as she looked around. "You are the first people I have seen."

Ares frowned back. "You're dead. We're here to save a dying earth. Join in or go your way," he said bluntly. He walked past her and started up the mountain climb again.

The young girl turned and watched him walk then turned back to the woman.

"Do I know you? I feel like I do," the girl said, panic edging into her voice.

Kendaa came up to her, putting her hand on the girl's shoulder gently. "You know me. You are the Amazon Keoli and I am Kendaa. I fear that because you are here, Lord Ares is right. You are dead and have passed on into the Amazon Land of the Dead." Kendaa brushed a stray lock away from the girl's pale face, smiling sadly. "I'm sorry." She frowned. "I don't know why you don't remember anything. The shades of the warriors of our Nation are not robbed of memory as far as I know." She tried to recall the lore told to her by the old hags around the campfires of the early training days.

Both women realized that Ares was staring at them annoyed, standing with hands on hips. He looked with steely eyes first at the girl and then at the tall woman. Kendaa arched an eyebrow, trying not to look too critical as she could not predict the temper of the War God. But her heart went out to the dead Amazon girl, now not only robbed of life but now of any memory of that life. She was more concerned about this child who would never grow up now.

In a moment, Ares realized his blunt dispassion. He sighed tiredly and walked over to the girl, touching her on the cheek with the tips of his fingers. He gazed into her now very confused eyes trying to be understanding. He reached out, hoping to have some use of his god senses to get some information to help the young girl.

He frowned as knowledge came. "You have been consigned to oblivion by an immortal. That is why you can't remember anything," he said. He patted her, trying to be sympathetic but as he touched her again, he sensed a darker truth. His eyes became narrow. "You were killed by Discord. I can feel it."

The God of War walked over to the side of the small outcropping that they had climbed to and looked over the lands below. "Why would Discord take the life of a young Amazon, risking Hera's and my anger in interfering with the Amazons," he said almost to himself. Then he was lost in thought for a moment as the Amazon warrior came up beside him. He felt Kendaa put her hand on his shoulder. He turned to her. "This is bad. I knew that Discord was dangerous but I had no idea she was so devious."

"Are you sure she's not in league with Hera?" Kendaa said. "There are many in the Nation now that are discouraged with Hera's care of the Amazons. They wish to be free of her grip with its dislike of men."

Ares grinned. "The infamous Forum?"

Kendaa smiled slightly. "Not just them. Many others. Hera is probably angry with her charges for their heresy to her. Perhaps she has sent Discord to act as spy … perhaps taking the body of this young girl and sending the real Keoli to Amazon place of the dead with no memory so that she cannot do the rites to call the ancestors or communicate with the living." Kendaa was beginning to recall the lore that she had learned from the old women. The ancient Amazons were supposed to have been among the first warriors that battled an ancient darkness. For their service, they were given a special place in the afterlife … the Amazon land of the Dead. In this place, they were judged by Hades in concert with their own ancestors. And at times, with the rituals that were passed down from generation to generation at the time of menses, dead warriors were able to communicate with the living. This gift was considered to be sacred. And envied by other cultures.

Ares looked at the Amazon, feeling the pull of her natural connection to life and the strength that she had continued to develop in the harsh martial life of the women warriors. He liked her quick mind and decisive logic. "Well," he said quietly. "Whether Discord is in league with the Queen of Heaven or not, we have to go to the Well of Stones to find answers." The War God looked up the ascending stone path of the rugged mountains above them. He looked back at the woman before him and smiled. The smile was sad and intimate. "We will take the little one with us and continue." He started up the path again.

Kendaa watched him as he walked on. Keoli came up beside her and the dryad put her arm around the girl even though she did not look over at her. She sensed the girl's fear and drew her close without thinking. Then the dryad realized sadly that the body was cold from death. Life had fled from this being. The spirit lingered between worlds watching and waiting. The dryad sighed and patted the girl. "Come on," she said quietly, "we'd better try to keep up."

Hercules looked up at the huge creatures above him. At first, his mind could not comprehend the change but then he saw his own arms, waving helplessly as the giants picked him up, and realized that he had been taken back to infancy. He felt panic as he was carried into the temple of Hera.

Inside the temple, the furnishing were blurry to the baby. Though he had the mind of an adult, his senses were that of a small child and he realized his immense vulnerability. He knew now that he was to be the sacrifice. He could only watch and wait. He was unable to communicate. It was impossible to form words and he knew that talking would be useless. He lay quietly as the Amazons put him in a basket and went about the business of starting the ritual.

The small party in the Amazon Land of the Dead climbed ever more steep mountain trails on the way to the Well of Stones. As they climbed, Kendaa watched the dark man in front of her struggle. He was sweating now despite the chill in the air. He turned back briefly and looked at her.

"I'm thirsty," he said, but the words sounded almost like a question. Kendaa realized that this was his first real experience with thirst.

"Is there a stream or any water anywhere?" she asked him. Ares frowned. Kendaa scanned the horizon beyond them. "There's snow up there," she added.

"So?" he asked.

The tall Amazon stifled a laugh. "Snow melts to become water," she answered.

"Oh," Ares replied. He blushed slightly. "You mortals have all these annoying needs. Food, water, warmth." He shook his head but said nothing further.

Kendaa was going to say something but decided against it. The War God had turned back and was continuing to go on up the trail. Keoli had watched the interchange in silence. Kendaa looked back at her and frowned. She was fading. The Amazon could see the rocks behind her. She called out to Ares.

He looked back at the girl. "She has been found by that which has no name," Ares said. "She is crossing over into eternity." His face became sad, almost longing. "Lucky little one," he whispered. Kendaa started to speak but stopped as he continued. "She will be at peace, existing in the light."

The tall Amazon frowned now. "What is the light?" she said, remembering only bits of what her mother had told her of what the dryads believed lay beyond life.

Ares' face became hard again. He looked back at her. "A place that I will never know." He started back up the mountain path.

The path became harder. They were climbing now more than walking. The two ascended into the heights in silence. Ares would stop and look up periodically then continue, Kendaa following behind him. For a long while, Kendaa was left to her thoughts. Here was a male unlike any she had known. He had a dark soul but as sinister as he seemed, there was a sad quality about him. His comments here and there had led her to feel pity for him and yet she knew that that would infuriate the proud god. A god… she thought about this concept. What made these beings put themselves above the mortals so as to demand their worship? Power. Power was the corruptor of things. She thought about this for a while and then changed her mind as she contemplated the powerful animals that she had known and the great power of the green world. No, power was not the problem. Power without purpose was the problem. For the powerful animals in nature, they had the instinct to focus their power for a purpose such as survival. Once that purpose was carried out in their everyday existence, they were satisfied. Even the great carnivores lounged around like house cats once they had fed. If prey came in their view, they had no desire to hunt and kill. Only man hunted, conquered, controlled, and dominated just because he could. But the gods weren't men. What made them take the same base quality? Did men get their drive for power from the gods or did men and the gods share some common ancestor? Kendaa thought about her own people, gone now. They were not men nor gods but vibrant offspring of the earth's life force. Kendaa had a pang of sick anxiety come over her as she realized – perhaps because they did not share the common ancestry of men and gods, that was why they were gone now. Only the brutal will to survive and conquer might keep a species alive. The horror of this overtook her for a moment as she reached up to grab the rock above her to pull herself up.

A strong hand took her wrist and pulled her up. Ares grabbed the belt around her waist and pulled her over the side of the ledge and up onto her feet and into his arms. The closeness was heady for the dryad. She would have stepped aside but he held her to him for a moment, looking into her eyes.

Ares could smell her clean sweat and the scent of the leather that she wore. These things pleased and aroused him but he smiled slightly at the realization that it was neither the time or the place to indulge his desire. He appreciated the difficulties of men yet again as he understood that one could not gratify oneself instantly as most gods did. He let his hands drop and watched as the dark eyebrows arched over the deep green eyes of the dryad. He smiled slightly then returned to business.

He pointed over to a narrow pass through the ascending granite of the mountain side. "The Well of Stones," he said quietly. "It lies in an alcove through that pass." He paused for a moment. "Or so I was told."

Kendaa arched a brow again. "Or so you were told?" she asked, annoyed. "You mean you're not sure?"

"I know it's there," the god said with a hard edge to his voice. He was not use to anyone questioning him. "but I cannot go in there. The place is sacred and can only be approached by a woman."

"So why didn't you change yourself into a woman to come to this place and go there yourself?" Kendaa asked knowing that this was paramount to suicide. She felt his rising anger.

"It doesn't work that way," he growled. "besides… I didn't think of it." He smiled again. "Are you going to help me or not?"

The Amazon began to walk toward the passage but turned and looked back at Ares. "What do I do once I get there?"

"I have no idea," he answered.

"Wonderful."

The earth groaned under the weight of her illness. Trapped in some part of her was a creature so vile that she sickened at the existence of it. It had been there for eons but had slept, kept in thrall by the spirits of the Ancient Ones, its brothers and sisters. Now it had found a way to awaken. It had made contact with one of the immortals that buzzed like flies around the great Gaia. In the warm, rocky lands of the Greeks, one of the creatures who was lucky enough to have been given existence above the harsh realities of mortal life hungered for more than her fortunate share. She had found a way to call forth the dark Ancient One, waking it from its sleep. Set opened his reptilian eyes, black in reflection of his soul, and shook the Earth with ague. Her crops withered, her skies darkened. The poor mortals upon her trembled with hunger and cold, fear and longing. Gaia could only wait.

But for everything there is an equal and an opposite, thought the maternal being. Set had wakened to bring the darkness but another Ancient One had also come alive from her long sleep. Long ago, she had been a raging fire like Set but the fight between good and evil had changed her. Now she sought to nurture the spirit of justice in others, since she had risen, she had been searching for a champion, a warrior who could stand against the coming evil. Bastet had not one, but a whole Nation of warriors that had the spark.

Bastet had rejoiced at finding the Amazons so capable. She had not thought to look further but then as she surveyed the land and sky, from among the immortals, she found the soul of the first warrior, withering in the role of the bully and the blood letter. Ares, the God of War of the Greeks, had been created by his short sighted, self centered parents to embody, not the sacrifice, discipline and bravery of war, but the mindless fury and terror of it. Bastet had known the moment she had found this immortal that he struggled under the yolk of destruction. He saw himself as fear and terror but within him was the spirit of the true warrior. He could not be who he was and continue the path that the immortals of Olympus had put him on. So the Ancient One sought him out in the form of a small black kitten. Had he been the bully that they made him out to be, he would have crushed the little being with pleasure but he sensed something in the kitten as she knew him. Bastet watched as he made his way to the Amazon Land of the Dead with one of her chosen. She smiled at his choice. The half dryad was his perfect equal and opposite.

Now the Ancient One turned her attention to a baby on an altar. His spirit was as strong as the man that he had been. Hercules flailed his arms helplessly as the ritual of the blood offering was coming together around him.

Women danced around the round stone altar. It stank with the blood of animal sacrifices and Hercules was sickened by the stench. He could only cry though he thought at times he could form words. When he had come into the temple, he was an infant of three or four months, but in the hour that he had been put in the basket and then laid, cold and naked on the stone, he had matured to a child of one year. The women noticed too, and seemed to hurry their duties. The pace of the dancing increased as the high priestess of Hera cried out something.

Then the small boy had the strangest feeling. The stone underneath him became warmer and he felt hands on him. He gasped as he sank into the stone. Strong arms surrounded him and the world became dark. He was traveling through coldness then he felt air on his face and he looked up at an Amazon.

"Come on, little one," Fayee said, coming out of the rocks. "If you really are Hercules, then you'll be honorable and keep my secret. And if you're not," She looked down at the little face. "it'll be a while before you can tell anyone, anyway." She frowned and looked closer. "You are Hercules. I can see you growing even now."

The Amazon started down the forest path. Her ability to travel through rock had been her secret. She had not told anyone except Kendaa who had not revealed it. Tonight, she had been at the house of Baeori. Both had had a hard day and were ready to turn in for the night. Fayee had put the young Amazon to bed. She still had much to learn in the ways of war. The poor girl was bruised and sore from a day of fighting, marching, practicing at staff and bow and learning how to build a structure in the trees. Every Amazon learned to live in the cover of the forest canopy. A warrior could eat, sleep, travel and even fight in the trees. But today, while learning to make a foundation, Baeori had fallen and fallen hard. That had ended the lesson for the day and Fayee had taken her home to rest. A cup of soup and Fayee tucked the groaning woman in bed.

Outside, Fayee heard the sound a kitten crying. The Amazon went over to the small black kitten, almost hidden now in the shadows as the sun set.

"Hello, little one," Fayee said crouching down to pick up the cat. It looked into her eyes with a gaze that made her gasp.

"Greetings, beloved daughter," said a voice in her head. "Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you. I need your help."

Then Fayee had the knowledge of Hercules' fate. The cat jumped out of her arms as she turned and ran into the forest. The rocks in the forest gave her a gate way through the ground and up through the stone of the altar. The babe was in her arms in heartbeat and she departed back through the stone of altar, ground and rock.

Now she stood with the baby in her arms. He looked up with the piercing gaze of a three year old and smiled at her. She slung him on her hip and looked up into the trees.

"Well, little one," she said as she took one of the ropes that the Amazons has strung in the trees throughout their forests. "It looks like it'll be just the two of us for the night."

Up into the trees she climbed, with the child squealing with delight now after she had strapped him to her with her belt and baldric. The Amazon knew she couldn't take the boy back to the Village of the Queen. Males were not allowed in the Nation and Hera's followers would be looking for their sacrifice. Other Amazons may not be against the death of the infant so unless Fayee had the backing of other Forum members, she might have to give up the boy if she was found. At the rate that he was growing, by the end of the night, he would be full grown. The idea of watching Hercules grow to manhood, wrapped only in the blanket that the child was playing with now, was appealing to the Amazon. She did not hold with the Amazon's hatred of men.

The moon was full making the green of the trees' leaves look an eerie glowing grey. She put the young boy on the platform that had been hidden up in the foliage of the tree, then settled down beside him to wait for the transformation.

The Well of Stones.. even the name was mysterious. The God of War was not use to standing and waiting. He paced around the ledge, looking into the darkness of the entrance, trying to reach out with his senses and knowing that it was futile. Suddenly he felt an overwhelming sense of dread, but being overwhelmed about anything was foreign and the tall man took a deep breath.

"What is taking the bitch so long," he said out loud. He continued to pace back and forth, looking at the entrance periodically. He sighed and gazed out toward the desolate landscape. "Patience, that is what the mortals speak of.." Ares knew a great deal about patience and just now realized that he was more akin to the mortals in his appreciation for the skill than he was to the gods who were use to getting what they wanted like spoiled children.

Ares was a god created for a purpose by the Olympians. Like Hephaestus and Aphrodite, he was born through the mating of two gods but issued forth for a particular fate. He was fated to hold the spirit of the sword as Aphrodite had been born and bred to hold the spirit of lust and procreation even though the gods softened her role as one of love. Hephaestus was born to hold the spirit of technician and of all the lesser gods, he had embraced this fate with a quiet joy that Ares could not understand. He had a creativity and drive that the War God envied and did not understand.

Now as he stood on the ledge in this lifeless place, he began to understand his brother's efforts. He felt as if he was part of something important. He suddenly began to laugh. "Important," he said to himself. "Isn't the God of War important? Are you not the Lord of Destruction, the author of all aggression?" he called out over the plains below him.

"You really are insecure for a god," said a voice behind him. Ares whirled around to see Kendaa standing at the mouth of the entrance.

Ares couldn't decide whether to flatten her with his fist or laugh. She was right. He was envious, petty, insecure and constantly obsessed about his place in relation to the other gods. Perhaps he got this base characteristic from his mother who was one of the most grudging and powerful, insecure and omnipresent beings that he knew. In his heart of hearts, Ares was afraid of her and more resentful of her than words would ever express. She and his father had consigned him to a fate of darkness that had started with a journey of trauma and pain and had scarred him forever.

Zeus appeared to give his son to this fate because that was the way it was and the god simply agreed without questioning. But Hera appeared to enjoy the process as if she resented his very existence. Suddenly Ares realized, looking at Kendaa at the mouth of the cave, that Hera's venom for her son was about her own anger at giving herself to a man that she did not love, bearing a son she did not want, and being considered less important than either by virtue of her gender. She hungered for power and worth in a way that made her dangerous. Before him stood a woman who wanted to be only the most of what she was. She did not fear failure. Ares could only grasp a tiny bit of what this meant before he found the feeling and thought too disturbing. He came back to the situation at hand. Anger replaced confusion and doubt. The dark God of War frowned. Kendaa was standing before him now.

"Well?" he said in voice that he hoped was commanding. "What did the Well of Stones tell you?"

Kendaa put a hand on one hip. "Not a damn thing. Big hole, lots of stones. No secret writings, whispering voices, dancing priestesses." She looked at him matter-of-factly. "So what is your next idea, sire?"

"What do you mean 'not a damn thing'?" He frowned more deeply now, surprised.

"There was nothing. A big hole with stones in it. I felt no presence. I got no feelings, directives, nothing." She put her hands on her hips and frowned. "Who told you about the Well?"

"The gods of Olympus! It is well known. I was told by my mo…" His voice trailed off. He looked off for a moment, thoroughly disgusted. "by my mother."

Kendaa thought for a moment. "Do you think she might be responsible for the famine?" the Amazon asked.

"It hadn't occurred to me until just now though it is possibly the best explanation for the events. Now that you say it, it fits her." He sighed and turned to look out at the horizon. "I am such a fool." He squinted in thought then frowned. "What do you mean insecure?"

Fayee looked at the waning moon then across the branches of the tree at a young man of nineteen or twenty. This was the young Hercules of the early legends. Unlike the tall, self assured man that she had seen stride into the present of the Queen and command the attention of all who saw him, this was a tall but gangly youth.

The young man looked over at the Amazon, pulling the blanket a little tighter. "Not much to work with," he said, sounding less shy than the boy before her looked. Fayee had to remember again that this was a full grown man inside a developing boy.

"Does it hurt?" she said, surprising both of them with the unexpected question.

"Does what hurt?" Hercules asked.

"The changing," she explained, "does it hurt. Growing pains should be a bitch."

Hercules laughed making her join along with his easy manner. "No, not at all, although this damn blanket can either hide the important parts or keep my ass from getting scraped by this tree. The bark in this tree is not as smooth as you would think," he said grimacing as he pulled at the blanket.

"Instead of around, go under," she advised.

"Huh?"

The Amazon snorted. "Men are so dumb," she said. "Put the blanket through your legs and sit on it rather than try and get it around your waist to cover back and front."

Hercules dawned a look of understanding. "Duh," he answered, smiling. He stood up in the tree, balancing his weight as he stood on the uneven branches. He let the blanket fall away. In the passage of those moments, the gangly boy had become a man of mid twenties. Fayee admired his magnificent physical presentation and his un-self-conscious manner. She had not had much experience with men and had not chosen to be one of the Amazons that took a mate to further the race, but she had known warriors such as Hercules and Iolaus and other men that she had had to stand with in battle. There were not many like Hercules, half god or not. She'd known some gods that could not compare with the quiet might and forthright manner of the hero.

He had gotten the blanket adjusted and was looking at the makeshift clothing now. "Looks like a diaper."

She laughed. "Where did you leave your clothes?" "In the clearing, in front of the temple of Whora." Hercules laughed at his crude joke. "I hate that woman."

"Well, duh," Fayee replied. "Killing your family kind of puts a kink in the relationship."

Fayee regretted the joke the moment she said it. She began to speak.

"It's all right," he said sitting down again. "That is the unvarnished truth. She killed my family and I can never get them back." His voice trailed off and he stared off for a moment. "Perhaps it was partly my fault. If I had just been more nice to her. A pinch on the altar is not so much. So I bend a knee every so often. Maybe my family would be alive. My sweet Ilaya would be a budding blossom now." He smiled sadly.

"Perhaps they would be but perhaps not," Fayee replied. "I don't know the ways of the gods, but I do know that Hera is vicious. I suspect that nothing you could do would alter that." She shook her head sadly. "It's not about you personally. It's your manhood. She hates all men and she's poisoned a whole nation so that they feel the same way."

"Men can be brutal," the man said.

"So can women," Fayee replied. "Unfortunately, it's not a matter of gender."

Hercules nodded and stood up. "Enough of this morbid talk. I need my clothes."

"And then you'll be leaving. This is an Amazon problem." Fayee asked.

"Oh, no. The more I think about this, the more I suspect that somehow Hera is behind this whole problem," Hercules said looking back down at her." He leapt down onto the ground. "Where are we? Which way to the temple?"

Fayee landed beside him and pointed.

Ares and Kendaa trudged along the bleak plains back toward the place where he could get them out of the Amazon Land of the Dead.

"Though I'm not surprised that my mother might be involved, I can't believe that she would try something this big. It's …" He thought for a moment, assessing the situation. "It's too dangerous. She will bring down the wrath of every other god." He shook his head. "I don't believe that she would risk it. And I truly don't think she has the power."

"Could other gods be helping her?" Kendaa added.

Ares thought as he walked, pondering each of the gods. He had spies as many as Hera. They lurked in the shadows and blended with the background of all the important courts, major temples, and prominent places of learning and interchange. Ares had not heard of any of the gods plotting or intriguing other than the usual jockeying for position or pissing in another's pool for spite. He thought about the meeting on Olympus recently. It seemed like it was so long ago but it had been less than a human day before. He recalled the flow of the gathering and surveyed in his mind each attendant. He could not see any evidence of consorting or intrigue. His spies had not told him of anything unusual other than the famine and the general failure of life in the world. Then he recalled the little cat. For a moment, he had a twinge of sadness for something lost. Then he quickly brought his thoughts back to the problem at hand. There was little good in weak feelings of sadness or loss. A warrior of his stature had to be like the rocks and the water. Hard, flowing, cold, impervious to feeling. He shook his head.

"No, I don't think that any of the other gods would be involved," he answered. His thoughts drifted back to the kitten and he bit his lip surreptitiously to punish himself for this weakness. He tasted blood in his mouth and smiled.

"Ares?"

The God of War roused himself from his reverie. Kendaa was standing at the place where they had entered the Land of the Dead. Ares looked around to see landmarks.

"What about Discord?" Kendaa asked.

The War God frowned at her, looking thoughtful but brooding. "Discord? No, no way. She's a whore and a snake. But she'd dare not betray me." He thought about the godlet, her oily solicitation of him, her seductive intrusiveness. When they coupled, he got the slightest feeling of being spied upon. Suddenly, the God of War put the pieces together. He felt a surge of embarrassment. His self centeredness had blinded a warrior's natural paranoia about those around him. Discord wasn't his servant. She was Hera's servant, sent to spy on or distract the War God when it suited the Queen of Heaven.

Ares looked over at Kendaa. For a moment, he hated all women then saw the honest care she had for him. She'd denied his request to follow him. Perhaps with time he could mold her to his will. The project with Xena had not gone well. He feared she was a lost cause. Now he turned his attention toward the tall half dryad. She could be the one to replace the warrior princess or that leather clad bitch as the leader of his army. Ares thought of Discord again, he would have other plans for her.

"Well back to the world," he said looking at the tall woman.

Kendaa smiled. He'd not replied to her question about his lieutenant, the goddess of trouble. She chose to leave this alone, sensing his anger about being betrayed. "And back to the beginning."

"Not quite. We have a direction now," Ares replied. "It won't be easy. We may be taking on some of my brothers and sisters. Some have power equal to mine and if Hera is involved, she has more power and will redouble her efforts to keep her secret and achieve her goal."

As he spoke, he reached out and touched her arm. They were back in the fields outside the City of the Amazons again. In the forest, Kendaa saw Fayee and Hercules and called out. The Amazons strode toward each other, putting their hands above their heads in the traditional greeting and then embracing. Ares trailed after Kendaa, watching his half brother and nemesis warily.

Then Kendaa embraced Hercules and the two kissed briefly. It was a friendly kiss and Kendaa, whose nature was born of the Green World, thought nothing of the familiarity.

The God of War reacted violently. The comradeship and comfort that he had felt dissolved into anger and jealousy. He felt heat erupt in his hand and a ball of blazing fire formed. He hurled it at his foe scorching Kendaa on the arm as it passed. She dove away, taking Fayee with her. Hercules lunged in the other direction and the ball hit a tree that burst into flames.

The half dryad heard the tree scream in pain as its life was consumed by the flames. It was a horrible way to die for flora or fauna. She screamed back at Ares in rage.

"Stop," Hercules yelled at Ares. "This fight is between us."

All that the God of War could do was growl. He was devoured by his rage. He vanished in a blaze, leaving behind the three startled mortals.

A tall figure, cloaked in a heavy flowing cape hugged the shadows of the street as he made his way. Here on a back street of the sordid city of Corinth, whores called out to him, thieves eyed the figure, sizing up the expensive look of the cape and the dangerous aura of its owner and weighed the odds. So far, the denizens of the night had chosen to leave the figure alone. Even the prostitutes, usually known for their boldness, called out but did not touch or approach.

As Ares prowled the streets, he allowed his wounded feelings to fester. He thought of his anger and envy for his half brother and how in the short time that Hercules had been alive, he had overshadowed the gods with his deeds and his nature. This thought enraged the god even more because Hercules embodied everything honorable about a warrior that Ares would never attain. The thought so galled him that he growled out loud, and hit the wall with his fist, shaking the building it belonged to. Those on the street shied away from him. He hurried on, embarrassed.

Up and down street after street that warrior went, hoping that the physical experience of walking quickly through the mortal world would somehow calm his turbulent mind. He pondered the nature of Hercules, his betrayal by Discord, his mother's plots… whatever they might be, to assume more power over all others. He was disgusted, angry and … a feeling that he feared more than any. He was afraid. The God of War turned down another street, lined with taverns frequented by sailors. He could smell the docks close by with their stale fish odors, wood and pitch from the ships. Ares strode down the street looking into the seedy inns and shouldering his way through the men bustling from place to place, some too drunk to avoid him. The God of War pulled his cloak around him to avoid the slop coming from the windows above. Somehow the crassness of the scene fit his mood. He headed toward the smell of the sea.

As he left the street to turn down another, he felt a hand brush his hip. He turned to see a young woman, no more than mid teens but dressed as if she had lived a mortal lifetime. Her skirt was hiked up on one side and tucked into her belt. Her vest was tight across her chest, allowing the front to bulge open to show her breasts. They were hardly formed and Ares could see the padding peeking out. The face was painted to accent her eyes, green like the eyes that were haunting the god as he wandered. Her hair was dangerously golden also.

She smiled at him and put her hand shamelessly on his groin, stroking his manhood. "Just fifty dinars will give you joy," she said, squinting to see inside the hood of the cape at her mark.

Ares assumed a mortal form, shrugging the hood from his head. He looked down at the young face. Under that rouge and kohl, she was a shy child, even playful. Ares could see the childhood of hardship and the rude use in her eyes but that she had not lost the spark of life. He swept her up in his arms and headed to an alley, listening to her giggle and feeling her snuggle down in his arms.

"Gold for you tonight," he said.

"Then you can have whatever you please," she answered.

Ares sat her on a barrel. Just the right height, he thought as he felt himself respond. The girl spread her legs and hiked up her skirt to reveal a womanhood bruised and with angry sores around the moist recesses of her genitals. So much for the innocence of youth, the War God thought. She had a purpose which she was fulfilling. He plunged into her roughly, pulling her legs around him. He thrust himself into her rhythmically as she arched her back and moaned but he felt fear coming from her rather than pleasure. The sensation strengthened his erection and he quickened his hasty assault on her.

She moaned and ran her hands through his black hair. "You… you're huge," she said. "A god…" She tried to smile but Ares could see the pain in her eyes. He had a sudden twinge of remorse but was near to coming. He felt himself spill his seed inside her and she gasped. A glow came over her as the seed of the god healed mortal ills. His member slipped from her and he backed off, seeing her genitals wet with glowing seed and her own juices but whole and fresh now. He did up his pants and pushed down her skirt.

The young girl's eyes were wide with surprise at her change. "Who are you?" she asked quietly. "You're not a man. Are you a god?" She spoke the words with wonder. "No, I know who you are! You're Hercules!" she exclaimed with a look that spoke of adoration.

The name plunged a dagger into his chest deeper than any weapon could ever go. The dark god snarled as the girl's wonder turned to terror. Ares took the girl's head in his hands and kissed her roughly, then snapped her neck with ease.

"I'm death." He let the body slide off the barrel and crumple onto the ground. Then he tossed a coin onto it. "Tell Charon I said 'hello,'" Ares replied. "And warn him that there are more coming." He pulled his cape around him and went on.

"I just do not understand the feud between the two of you," Kendaa said, laying out her bed roll.

Hercules was tending the small fire that they had made now after a long day of hiding and an evening of conferring with the Forum.

Upon her return, Kendaa had checked in with the Queen and reported on her interchange with the God of War. The Queen had discussed her concern over the death of the young Amazon, but beyond that had not seemed impressed or concerned about the meeting with the War God. She had dismissed the half-dryad and taken her off duty. Kendaa had told her nothing of the whereabouts of Hercules and the Queen did not ask.

The Amazon was not sure the Queen did not know about the abduction and botched sacrifice or knew and was not saying anything.

Then Kendaa had sent out word to the Forum members to meet in the forest after dark. The place was well known and twenty of the forty members were able to come. The conference was more of a reunion with the Greek hero. Calico led the discussion on the botched sacrifice as the group teased out possible ways that the minions of Hera could have gotten such powerful magic. Fayee stood anxiously as Hercules began to report on how he had gotten away from the sacrifice. He wove a tale that had a thread of truth to it about the two of them but deftly avoided telling the group about the trip through the rocks. Kendaa reported on death of Keoli, causing a ripple of anger and fear to travel through the group.

Lessa's face was hard as she reacted to the news that Discord might be at the heart of the conspiracy with Hera. No one was surprised at the revelation that the Queen of the Gods might also be involved. "I know this bitch. She's Ares without the conscience if you can imagine that."

A murmur went through the group.

Hercules shook his head. He was standing next to Calico, his arm around her shoulder. "I'm not surprised that the Queen of the Gods would do this. She chained up Prometheus and took fire from the world." He thought back on this adventure and smiled. "I met Deineira on that adventure," he said to Calico.

"We all remember," she answered. "When you married, the Forum celebrated with a dance of fertility the lasted for two hours."

Hercules grinned and pulled her to him, kissing her on the forehead. "Well, it worked," he whispered.

"I am surprised that Discord is involved," Hercules stated to the group. "Though it makes sense. I just didn't think she had the …. Guts." He thought of his half brother, Ares and Ares' revelation that Discord had betrayed him. "Poor Ares, can't seem to keep a woman," he said quietly.

Kendaa heard this. She was standing a ways away from him in the circle with the others. She was going to reply but chose to say nothing. She kept her own council about what she felt about the God of War, torn now with opposing emotions of love and disappointment.

The meeting had come to a close and the members had dispersed. Now Kendaa and Hercules were making camp deep in the woods.

Hercules tending the fire, nursing its flame with a gentle blow of his breath. "Neither do I," he said. "He hates me. Many of the gods do, except my father, who loves me when it's convenient for him." He stared into the flames as they grew.

"Ares says that you are disliked because of your active work against the supremacy of the gods," Kendaa replied, getting into her bed. She was tired from her long journey in the land of the dead and the interchange with the stormy god. She snuggled into the furs of her bed roll, groaning softly as she relaxed.

"I speak out against the gods because of what they do to men, to the earth, to life," he said, laying down on one elbow by the fire. "The gods don't like hearing the truth. They want the love and worship of the people without earning it. My father speaks of his love for mortal men but every time I ask him for help against Hera's plots or some ruthless monster…" He looked over at Kendaa. She was fast asleep. Hercules looked back at the fire's light. She knew what he was going to say. She felt the same way and lived with the same loss as he, wrought by the immortals for their selfish reasons.

But Hercules had sensed a difference in Kendaa since she had been on her little adventure with Ares. The half god stared into the firelight, fearing that the God of War had seduced his friend. Hercules was no fool. Ares was a handsome man, virile in his dark presentation and persuasive when he wanted to be. Hercules had seen the grudging admiration in Xena's eyes and now he suspected that Kendaa had fallen under the same spell. Was he jealous? Hercules snorted quietly. Yes, a little. The gods always seemed to get what they wanted. It was maddening. Hercules lay down and went to sleep.

Ares had returned to his palace on the heights of Olympus. He looked down from his lofty throne adorned with the skulls of his adversaries, to the throne room below. In its center, a seal of black marble, veined with red bore the skull symbol that represented him. He snorted in disgust.

Then the symbol began to shimmer and swirl and Discord appeared. "Greetings, my lord," she said.

Ares smiled mirthlessly. "Just the woman I want to see," he said quietly. He rose slowly as she walked up the stairs toward him. As she approached him, he held out one hand to her. "You are my right hand," he said, smiling further. She smiled back, wary now. He was too attentive. Discord knew him well.

"And you know," he said, putting his hand to her cheek gently, "what a soldier's right hand is good for."

Discord's eyes narrowed, but she continued to smile. "His sword?"

Ares drew her to him. "Exactly." He touched her on the shoulder and her clothing disappeared. The white of her skin glowed in the eerie light of the throne room. Ares looked down at her and undid his belt. He let the sword and belt drop onto the throne. He undid his tunic and threw it aside.

"Attend me," he whispered.

The goddess looked up, looking more like a young girl than a devious immortal. She hesitated.

"Do as I tell you, girl," Ares stated, an edge to his voice.

She knelt down and unlaced his boots, taking them off. Then she undid his pants, sliding the leather off his hips and to the floor. He was beginning to respond to her servitude. She put her hands on the linens and pulled them off. He stepped out of his clothing, standing now naked as she was. At the door, in the far side of the hall, he felt his guards heartbeats quicken as they watched the scene. He looked down at the goddess that he had assumed was his minion and now knew differently. He ran his hand through her black hair as she knelt there.

She looked up feeling this member on her cheek. "For me?" she asked, smiling coyly.

He smiled down at her, taking a handful of hair and wrenching it up, pulling her to her feet. "Oh, no," he said softly, pulling her close to his face. "Never again. You go tell my mother that I know she's behind all this. Tell her that I will oppose her with all my will and I will lead the mortal nations against her and her Amazons if I have to. You tell her this and then you come back. You belong to me and you will obey me or I will consign you to a dark lonely place where you will stay until the end of time. Understand, girl?"

Discord looked truly afraid for the first time since their long relationship. "Yes, sire," she replied. She stepped away from him and began to call for her clothing with her powers. Ares blocked her spell, making her gasp.

"Go naked," he said. "It's part of my message to my dear mother. Tell her that this is the natural state of a woman."

She disappeared more quietly than she had come. She toyed with the idea of dressing in the infinite second between leaving him and going to the Queen of the gods. But Discord had regained her wily composure the moment she left Ares. She knew exactly how she would play this.

When she appeared before the Queen of the gods, it was in the throne room of Olympus, where the council of the gods being held. She was suppose to have summoned Ares to the council to report on his progress. Now she appeared before the stairs of the tall dais that led up to the thrones of the King and Queen of the gods.

When she appeared, she had not dressed herself. In fact, she was not only naked now but bruised and bloody. Her eye was swollen, her cheek red. And from between her legs, blood flowed down the milky whiteness of her thighs. She screwed her face into a grimace of pain and fear and began to cry.

"My lord and lady," she sobbed. "Lord Ares sends his message." She held out her arms, crumbling into a heap on the floor.

Hera stood up, horrified. "The rape of a god by another is…"

"Unthinkable," Zeus finished, shaking his head with disbelief. "I cannot believe that my son would do this."

Hera walked down the stairs and knelt down by Discord, taking her in her arms gently and cradling the disheveled goddess, racked with sobs. Discord raised her face to her Queen, putting her head on the Queen's shoulder she whispered. "He knows."

Hera's jaw tensed then she smiled sadly and stood up, letting her cape drop to be used by her servant. "Husband, I have something to tell you that will distress you greatly." She looked around slowly at the gods standing and sitting. "It will distress you all."

Hera looked around at the gods of Olympus and sighed deeply. "My son Ares, and I must take responsibility for his actions for I suspected something but did nothing, has trafficked with one of the forbidden ones. One of the Ancient Ones has awakened and I believe that Ares is in league with him. This powerful being needs the blood of a warrior and the suffering of the earth to free himself from his bondage. I think that Ares has agreed to be that warrior." She looked up at Zeus, putting on her most downcast look. "But not before he tried to engineer the sacrifice of your son, Hercules." She paused for effect. "You know how he feels about Hercules."

All of Zeus' response was in the dark lines of his face. His anger was beyond words. The wounded earth now had thunderstorms to contend with. The ground rocked with earthquakes as the thunder and lightening erupted everywhere.

The gods of Olympus erupted also. There was outcries and shouts of vengeance, energy swirled around the magical beings as their emotions took form. Mercury pounded his staff into the floor trying to get order but the Olympic scene had exploded into chaos. Gods chattered, gesticulated, screamed, and sighed. Hera walked back up to her throne and sat down, her head bowed. She wailed, startling her husband who stood up and shook his fist, causing a quake so bad that a small island on the mortal plane was swallowed. Thousands died unattended by the gods who were more concerned about their internal problems than the dying of the earth and the pleas of the small beings on her.

Only Apollo sat quietly. He sat back in his chair and thought about the brother who was his polar opposite and upon which he had focused so much of his godly curiosity. What kept Ares going when he seemed to be the brunt of the scorn and dislike of the others? Why did he continue to play when the other children were so rude? Apollo found Ares' tenacity amazing. Zeus so often dangled glory in front of him, then snatched it away when he came so close to achieving his end. But like a duty-bound soldier he persevered even when the end looked hopeless. Apollo could not understand why Ares didn't just leave and go somewhere else. Was the approval of their parents that important?

Apollo looked over at the sovereigns of this little part of the world. Hera and Zeus, for Apollo knew that that was the natural order, were so small to him. Through his work with mortals, Apollo had learned a deeper meaning for living. Through mortals he learned that life was not meant to be an endless series of events meant to pursue stimulation or power, but that through existence, one found a greater meaning. One built, one created, one contributed, one labored, strove, produced. One loved, toiled, watched and waited, listened, smiled, acknowledged. And through the process, a being found meaning even if he or she did not reach the goal. The goal was the greater good which the insignificant mortals contributed to in a million ways from fetching water to writing laws and building temples. "The greater good"… the phrase was as unnatural to the gods of Olympus as it was an integral part of most societies on the Earth.

Apollo looked over at his parents. Zeus was posturing, Hera was feigning grief and shame. It was sickening. Apollo disappeared, leaving everyone in the halls of the vast place surprised at his abrupt departure.

Hera shook her head. "You see, my children," she said sadly, "even our beloved Apollo is overcome with horror. He is too pure to hear the truth of Ares' nature." But secretly, she pondered a different line of thinking. Apollo had said nothing. He had not appeared outraged or sad but confused. This worried the Queen of the Gods. She needed all the other gods in concert with her to make her plans come to fruition.

Ares knew the moment that he had let Discord go that he had made a gigantic mistake. He vanished, following her and trying to stop the goddess before she rematerialized at the court but it was too late. She had been quick to recover from his shaming of her and her anger congealed into purpose more quickly than he expected. He had to admire her ability to turn this situation to her advantage.

He followed her trail to the home of the gods, peering in on the events like the proverbial fly on the wall. The War God shook his head in ashamed disgust as he saw her present herself, like a wounded bird, to his brothers and sisters. How could he have been so stupid? He marveled at his own impotence as he saw his mother take up the tale and embellish upon it, weaving a secure noose around his neck. Then he heard the information about the Ancient One. Everything came into stunning focus. Hera had conjured the awakening of this being and had made a pact with it in return for power on this plane. The plan would have been superb and he would have been the first to congratulate the old hag if he did not know that one did not make deals with such creatures. They never kept their word.

Ares had few rules that he lived by and made his warriors live by. One of them was that if you made a pledge, you kept it. For some reason, with all the vile and detestable things that he had done, he had never broken this rule. He also punished severely those who did. It was because of things like this, he suspected, that the Amazons sought his training, and Xena continued to pay him respect, even though she did grudgingly. He had his own brand of honor, fragile though it might be.

Now the chaos of the Olympic court erupted into shrieks and gestures, posturing, outrage, tales of "I'm not surprised" and "I knew he couldn't be trusted." Ares snorted as he was maligned, vilified. This was nothing new. Then he saw Apollo disappear. The War God vanished, trying to follow the august god to wherever he was going.

Hercules woke up to the sound of crashing thunder and was on his feet in a moment as lightening struck a tree near their campsite. The crack and blast of the bolt as it struck made him jump and it was well that he did as the trees around him exploded in fire. He lunged over the fire and pulled the covers off his partner, finding that Kendaa had gone. He would have known this if he had looked closely at the bedroll. He looked around calling out to her in the forest.

"Here," she called back from the forest's edge, waving at him as he looked around. He ran toward her, coming out of the forest onto the edge of the plains where the sky glowered and thunderclouds rolled overhead.

"The gods are angry," she said. "I wonder if Ares has confronted Hera about her part in the world's illness."

The two looked up as the Heavens opened and rain began to pour over the land. It was more than just rain, but a torrential downpour. Kendaa looked over at Hercules and he stared back.

"From famine to flood," he said, making himself heard over the sound of the storm. "We have to do something."

"I don't know where to start," she said. "Ares couldn't find anything more than that Hera was involved. Oh, and Discord. We think that she's working for Hera," she shouted.

Hercules looked around, then back at the Amazon. He shrugged, grimacing in frustration. "Go to Olympus?" he shouted over a thunder clap that jolted both of them. "Take the fight to her? Or what? I could ask some of my god siblings to help out. Maybe they know something."

Kendaa looked around, "I don't know, Hercules," she said sadly. "Maybe we should see if Ares has found out anything."

Hercules frowned deeply, "Are you in love with him?"

Now the Amazon frowned also. She sighed then, letting the rain soak into her anger and cool her. "Hercules, you and I have known each other for years. We … almost grew up together. We have grieved together. We have fought together. The only thing that we haven't done is …"

"I know what we haven't done," Hercules interrupted. "Have you with Ares?"

Kendaa stood frozen by the comment. She was stunned at the words and at the idea that Hercules, son of a God, hero, warrior, was jealous of her. It never occurred to her that he would even care. "No, I haven't had carnal knowledge of the God of War," she shouted over the rain.

Hercules looked embarrassed now. He looked around clenching his fists, began to pace then stopped and looked back at her. "Kendaa, I'm sorry. I can't think straight when it comes to him. He has plagued me ever since I was young. I don't like him, I don't trust him and it upsets me that you are attracted to him. I'd afraid that he will hurt you like he has hurt everyone else that he comes near." He paused to gather his thoughts and calm himself. "And I HATE the idea that he you have feelings for him. He'll take you away from me. I know him. I can share but he can't." He looked at her, glaring angrily. "I don't want to lose you."

Kendaa shook her head, smiling. The sky poured. The wind had kicked up so that their clothes blew wildly around them. Her hair whipped across her face as she thought about her feelings for both men. From within the depths of her came a glowing force and she began to glow. Her face took on a more eldritch manner and her eyes seemed to shine with a deep green light.

Hercules noticed the change and stood staring, not wanting anything to interfere with this moment. He knew that the Green World was awakening within her as she had talked about it with him many times in anticipation of the change. This change meant a deeper connection with life, a more full presentation of the dryad spirit. It also would herald the coming of fertility in a dryad female.

Hercules blinked in the strong wind and in that instant Kendaa had come close to him. He could smell the forest on her. Her face was inches from his, glowing with a new light. She looked almost as if she was in a trance but focused on his eyes as he began to lose himself in the green of her eyes, flecked with gold.

"I will never not love you," she said. Hercules realized that a voice had spoken directly into his mind but it was not her voice. He frowned and felt tears forming in his eyes. It was the voice of every woman he had ever loved. His mother, Deiniera, his sweet Ilaya, Nemesis the goddess of judgment and his first love, Kendaa.

"You will never be alone," Kendaa said out loud. "I don't know how I feel about Ares. You are right to see that I am attracted to him. I know he has hurt you deeply." She paused to look around. Their hands found each other and they stood there in a gentle embrace. "But you must believe me that he is worth saving. I will make him a better man." She looked back at her friend. "If I can't… then I will leave him forever without another thought." She was teary eyed now also.

Hercules smiled sadly, brushing the tears from her eyes. "Don't leave him for me," he answered. "Leave him because he is not worthy. If you promise to do that, I will be assured."

She smiled sadly back. "I promise."

The winds were calming now and the thunder and lightening seemed to have subsided. The two warriors looked out over the plains. Kendaa looked at her friend.

"How about the Oracle?" she asked.

"Delphi?"

"You know another Oracle?" she replied, arching a brow in familiar distain.

Hercules snorted and started off toward the mysterious city of Delphi, home of the Oracle of Apollo.

Ares followed the golden god, Apollo, not to some heavenly place of retreat, but into the humblest of temples on the mortal plane. Though the temple was not large or elaborate, it was one of the most sacred places. The Oracle of Delphi was known throughout the world of the Greeks, and others around the inner seas as a place where mortal men and women truly had the ear of the gods. Through the rantings of priestesses selected carefully and trained long, the people could come to ask the god Apollo about their fate and receive warning, assurances, guidance, and admonitions. This god did not seem to possess the same fickle self involvement that others of the Greek Olympiad did. It was as if his nature was more pure, less a reflection of the changeable moods and ways that the mortals saw in the gods like they saw in themselves. For this, Delphi was greatly respected and prized.

And because of this honor, developed over hundreds of years, Apollo himself had been molded by the expectations of his seekers as he had shaped their destinies with his advice. He descended from the heights of Olympus to flee the chaos and to think on the things that he had heard. He knew the myths of the Ancient Ones, the war that they had fought with each other, and the nature and presence of that which guided all things. As he had drifted through the millennia, Apollo had come to acknowledge the Being who spoke to the Greeks through nature, the seasons and the guidance of the earth itself. The golden god hoped that through allying himself with this Being, he would help his people through his advice to the Oracle.

Now the god inhabited the receiving room of the temple, though he was unseen to the people who waited for the priestess' servants to come out of the inner room and call the next supplicant. To his surprise, Apollo felt the presence of his brother Ares with him in the room.

"Brother?"

"Yes," Ares replied.

"You know?"

"I do. I saw Discord return to the throne room."

Apollo's voice hesitated. "Did you rape her?"

Ares sighed. "No," he replied finally. "Not that I wouldn't but I didn't." He waited for his brother's response, fully expecting that the august god would not believe him.

"I know," Apollo replied. "The woman is a beast. I detest her."

Ares was taken aback and Apollo sensed the reaction. He laughed quietly. "Ares, you do not deserve this," he said.

Ares laughed also. "My brother, you are so different from me. We are like opposites on the scales of light and darkness. I do so deserve this. I have done so much and probably will do more before the end of my existence but that is not the point. The awakening of the Ancient Ones poses a substantial risk to our world. The darkness mother has allied herself with is more dangerous than anything we have faced so far."

"I know," Apollo replied. "I cannot believe that she has done this and I fear that we will not be able to close the box that she has opened."

"Like Pandora," Ares whispered.

"Like Pandora," Apollo repeated sadly.

The two great gods, one dark and one bright, lurked in the room above the mortals waiting nervously. Then Ares heard a familiar sound. The meow of a kitten crying pitifully in the distance. His spirit flew from the room toward the sound and he left his golden brother to tend to his duties there.

The God of War focused on the sound, locating it in a field outside the small city. His spirit looked down over the waving field of grain, sadly stunted by the drought. Large patches of ground showed through. There in one patch was the black kitten calling out.

Ares assumed his form in a flash of light. The kitten, so abject in its sound a moment ago, stopped and stood as if to scold the warrior that loomed over it.

Ares was taken aback by the change in demeanor. "Well?" he said, annoyed. That was all he could think of at the moment.

The cat cocked its head as if questioning him. It sat down. "Meow," it said softly.

"Well, meow yourself!" the angry god replied. "Where were you when I was busting my ass in the land of the dead or embarrassing myself with that bitch, Discord. You could have warned me about her, you know." He thought for a moment as the cat looked up at him. "Yes, I know. I should have known." He sighed, looking around the field. In the distance, farm hands and slaves watched him. They had seen the miraculous appearance and gathered to marvel but were too afraid to come near.

"Look at them," Ares said. "Stupid, hapless mortals with boring, meaningless lives. Why do I even care if they live or die if I don't care about my own kind." He snorted for effect.

The kitten continued to stare at him, now silent. It was a strange tableau with the huge man, garbed in black, black in mood, staring angrily down at the small animal that stared up with equal intensity. Neither moved. The mortals at the edge of the field whispered. The wind blew gently and the earth moaned quietly. For a while, it was a test of wills.

Then Ares squatted down, coming closer to the cat. "Who are you?" he asked in a whisper.

The War God never considered that animals had affects. He looked at the cat and her expression changed from quarrelsome to empathetic. She was about to speak or so Ares suspected when suddenly she seemed to jump and her fur bristled. She began to growl and moan like an animal in pain or cornered. Her ears went back and she bared her teeth. Then in an instant she was gone. Ares was so astonished that it took him a moment to realize that he should follow but by the time he vanished himself, he had no sense of where the cat had gone. He had no sense of anything except a feeling of dread. He went back to the temple at Delphi to speak further with Apollo.

Among the mortals who waited for a message from the gods, were two tall figures in hooded capes. They stood close together and had talked quietly with the priest, then moved into the atrium and to the front of the line waiting to see the Oracle. Other clients looked askance, grumbled quietly. Then Hercules let the hood of his cape fall away and the sound of grumbling turned to whispers about the famous hero.

"We are here not just for ourselves," Hercules said to the crowd. "I would never expect you to give me preferential treatment unless I was here on an urgent matter."

"Will you help us with the famine, Hercules?" asked one of the clients.

"That's what we're here for," replied Kendaa, pushing her hood back.

"Amazon! Freak!" said one of the women. "Why are with her, Hercules?"

"Stop it!" yelled the tall man. He felt his anger erupt. He had been keyed up all day, from the time that he had awakened so quickly to find Kendaa gone, through the storm and as the two made their way double time, to the city of the Oracle, Hercules had kept his growing anxiety about the situation of the world to himself. Now the prejudice of his countrymen pushed him to exasperation. He growled at the woman and she shrank back. His reaction stunned the crowd, use to seeing him so amiable.

"Perhaps I should wait outside," Kendaa said and slipped out of line and into the shadows. In a moment, the door opened and she left.

Hercules began to speak but the door to the inner sanctum opened and the priest beckoned to him. He turned back to the outer door for a moment, then turned toward the Oracle's place, disappointed now that he would go alone. He hated it any time he had to ask a favor of the gods. The warrior followed the priest in without a word, letting the cape drop away.

In the sacred place, the priestess sat on an tall stool. Her hair was messy and wild and her face was drawn. The simple tunic that she wore was torn as if she had been in a struggle. Hercules frowned and the priest looked confused.

"Is this normal?" Hercules asked the man.

The priest looked at the woman and then at him. "There is no normal for the Oracle," he whispered. "Perhaps she has seen a particularly troubling vision." The priest nodded to himself. "Yes, that's it."

Hercules looked over at the woman on the stool. Now she stared at him, grinning broadly, almost drunkenly.

"Whooooo commmess to meeeeeeeee?" she said. Her eyes shined.

"I am Hercules of Thebes," he said. "I come to ask the god Apollo to reveal what knowledge he has about the famine. I seek guidance on how to use my powers as a warrior and as a son of Greece to help my people."

The priestess laughed raucously then her eyes rolled back and she began to sway on her stool. For a moment, Hercules thought she would fall off but she regained her composure and set up straight. "Death and darkness everywhere and not a bite to eat. Children cry out to their parents who cry out to the gods but no one hears them." She closed her eyes and fell silent, slumping over.

Hercules looked at the priest. "Is that it?" he whispered. Then he sighed. "That doesn't tell me anything I don't already know." He looked up at the corners of the room, up at the ceiling. "APOLLO!" he cried. "Damn you, you have answers for everyone else. Why not me? If you you're so damned concerned about the world, help me help it!"

The priestess sat up suddenly. "Hercules of Thebes," she said. "You have violated the sanctity of this place!" The voice was strong and deep. Hercules jumped at the change in tone. He bowed his head briefly.

"Forgive me," he said. "I am tired. I have come a long way and been through much. I seek only to help my people. As you know, Apollo," He looked around. "I don't usually come to the gods. But I don't know where else to turn. It's really bad out there," he said, his voice broke with emotion. "If you care anything for the mortals of this world, tell me what I need to do. I'll do anything." His voice had dropped to a whisper.

"Hoooooold ooooooooooooout yoooouuuuuuur hannnnnnnnnnnnd," she said.

Hercules put his hand out, palm up, before her.

"Noooooooooowwwwwwww, cuuuuuuuut iiiiiiiiittttttttt."

"What?"

"CUUUUUUUUUUUUUttttttt IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTT!" she screamed.

Hercules looked over at the priest who shrugged and nodded. The tall man pulled out the knife that he carried and cut a gash from his wrist to his elbow. Blood flowed out onto the tunic of the woman and onto the floor.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrculessssssss of Thhhhhhhheeeeeeeebbessssss," she said. "You are commmmmmmmmmanded to go to the isllllllland of Kailos at the far point of the innnnnnner ssssssssea. There you will sssssseek a hermit who livessssssss in a high place. Take nnnnnnnnno one with youuuuuuuuuu. Take no sssssssssssssteellllllllllll, no metallllllllllll of any kinddddddddddd or you will never find what you look for. When you finddddddddddd the hermit, assssssssssk for the way to the enddddddddddd of the world. There you will find what you ssssssssssseek. Go in ppppeacccccccccccce." She slumped down again, now spent.

Hercules withdrew his arm, pulling it close to him. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The end of the world sounded so far away and time was so short. He felt a hopelessness go through him but squared his shoulders. His half brother was one of the only gods he trusted. "Thank you," he said. He turned and walked out, hearing the priest gasp as he left.

"How rude," said the priest. "He didn't even leave an offering for the god."

"I'm offering the god my life," Hercules said as he marched through the waiting room, "that is enough."

The priest left the room, closing the door behind him. The Oracle sat up, opening her eyes. "Go, son of immortals," she said quietly, touching the blood on her gown. She looked up at the ceiling. "Come to me, son of Zeus."

Apollo materialized in front of the stool, gazing up at the woman. He felt that tingle of some great power. "Am I in the presence of the One?" he asked in a whisper.

The woman looked at the tall god. "Apollo, son of Zeus," she said. "You have done well to seek a higher power." She reached out to him. "Open yourself to the wonders of the spirit and be transformed."

The god stepped up, excited to achieve a higher level of consciousness. He reached out to the woman and smiled. The woman's face began to glow. She closed her eyes for a moment, touching the god's hand with hers and pulling him toward her gently. Then she opened her eyes and Apollo peered into the dark orbs of the snake. He tried to pull away but the grip on him was strong. A forked tongue lashed out and snapped against his perfect forehead, making him jerk. Then the woman slumped over and slid off the stool, making it fall to the side. Her body shriveled up and turned to dust. The god stood motionless, then took a deep breath.

"Unbelievable," Apollo said, with a slight hiss in his voice. "This escape was so much easier than I thought it would be." He grinned. "Well, I don't need that annoying little goddess anymore." He reached down and picked up the bloody gown of the Oracle, shaking the dust off it. "The blood of a hero and the soul of a god," he laughed. "Now who would think that what I struggled to obtain would be brought to me by accident. And the body of Apollo." He reached out his arms. "So much power in such fools."

Set disappeared in a flash.

Ares returned to the temple just in time to see the possession of his brother by the dark Ancient One. He was so stunned to see Apollo in such a state that he didn't react until Set had gone. He materialized in the small room where so many truths had been given to mortals. Now the War God stood alone looking at the blood on the floor and the dust that he realized had been the Oracle.

He looked around still wondering what to do. He was not use to having so much going against him. He was a criminal to his immortal peers, inferior in strength and cunning to his enemy, and he had in the last week or so been experiencing emotions that he did not like or want. He stood still annoyed and puzzled when he realized that the kitten was in the room. It stood in the corner watching him. The green eyes pierced the dimness and bored into him.

"Who the Hades are you?" the god yelled, louder than he had intended. The cat didn't jump but he felt like he had. The room became more dim and Ares looked around thinking suddenly that he should not have confronted this unknown and potential adversary. He began to pull out his sword.

The air around the cat began to swirl and the kitten's form changed before his wide eyes into the long sleek black form of an adult cat, black as midnight with the same green eyes. The blackness of her slim form was tinged with blue and in her ears were gold hoop earrings. Ares recognized the form of Bastet and realized that he was in the presence of an Ancient One sacred in the lore of the immortals. He stood for a moment, then looked at the floor, thinking to himself that he probably should kneel but he couldn't make himself do so.

He looked back up at the figure that stared at him.

"Hello, blessed one," the cat said. Though its lips did not move, he could hear her clearly.

"I should kneel," he said and then felt foolish at the statement.

"If you feel strongly about it. I would prefer that you do not," she replied. Her voice was soothing.

"You are Bastet," he said. Now he was more embarrassed. "I mean, you are, aren't you?"

The cat smiled. "Yes, I am the Ancient One known as Bastet. I was once a fierce warrior…"

"Sekhmet, right?"

"Yes. And I fought in the great struggle amongst the Ancient Ones."

"Osiris against Set and his brothers," Ares replied.

"You have been well schooled," she answered.

"I love war stories," he said, grinning like a school boy. "I am the God of War and all." He felt strangely unguarded.

"And in the end when I won…"

"You were changed from the Lioness to the cat, from fierce to calm. From an agent of war to a being representing peace," he replied. "I envy you."

"You are not so very different," Bastet answered. "You are on a path like mine whether you know it or not. As much as you struggle against your choices, you keep making choices that change you for the better."

Ares laughed out loud. It was a derisive laugh as his mood shifted quickly. The Ancient One was taken by surprise, her eyes widening in response. "For the better!" he said. "Oh, I don't think so. There is no better in me."

The Ancient One cocked her head. "You are so very grand in your contempt for yourself, aren't you? Do you think that you are the only one who struggles against the darkness? Every soul has evil in it. It is the curse and the burden that the One gives to all living things. Is your burden bigger than others? Perhaps. But the One knows all things, sees all things, understands all things. If your burden is bigger, then you have also been given more strength and courage to carry it. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself because you have a lazy, disinterested father and a cruel mother and pick up your burden and carry it. Heavens, boy. You're a god. You have immortality, power, strength and beauty. You have ones who love you despite your faults and you have the potential to be a hero."

"Like Hercules," he sneered.

The cat looked annoyed and turned to leave the room. Now she looked like an ordinary cat. "Give it a rest, would you?" she said over her shoulder as the door opened and she slipped out of the temple room. An embarrassed god followed her out.

Hercules strode out of the temple and down the street, looking around for his comrade as he wrapped his arm in a makeshift bandage. He had taken off his vest and torn the shirt under it into strips. As he tended his wound, he looked around to see if Kendaa had stayed near but he couldn't see her. She had probably gone into the forest that lay on one border of the city of Delphi. He headed up the lane toward the trees. People looked out of their doors and up from the market stalls at the tall man. Hercules was known in the city states and well loved and admired, but the look on his face kept people from approaching him, he thought. Or perhaps word had spread through the town already that he was with an Amazon. The Greeks had many prejudices, not the least of which was the deeply rooted hatred of the Amazons, who were characterized as women like the furies, cruel, senseless, angry and irrational. He shook his head as he thought of this. Nothing could be farther from the truth with the Amazons that he knew. He also knew that outside the Forum, the Amazons could be just as biased against men, outsiders and those who were not warriors. So the struggle went on on both sides.

His thoughts lasted him until he neared the forest. He could see the Amazon sitting in a clearing. She was sitting on a fallen log, looking up at the trees. Hercules approached and the Amazon sensed him. She turned and smiled, getting up.

"Well, where to now?" she asked.

"For you, back to the Amazon Nation. For me, a trip that has to be taken alone," he replied. He smiled back. "I'll walk with you to the border and there, I have to go on alone to the sea. From there, I have to go to an island known as Kailos."

"At the western end of the inner sea?" Kendaa asked, surprising Hercules with her knowledge. She could see it on his face. She laughed. "Hercules, I didn't spend all my life up in the branches, dancing in the meadows, twirling a staff and swinging a sword. My mother was a queen who gave me a fine education in geography and literature, science. The Amazons also teach their warriors academics as well." She would have gone on but the tall man was already lifting his hand in surrender.

"Okay, okay," he answered laughing. "Gods, maybe I should take you with me as a guide."

Kendaa started off on the road. "I don't like the idea of you going alone," she said over her shoulder. Hercules jogged up to her then fell into stride beside her.

"You know, I usually find I can take care of myself," he said.

Kendaa smiled. "I know that you are Hercules, strongest man alive, extraordinary… nay, superhuman warrior. Held the world in your shoulders…"

"Not."

"Fetched the Golden fleece…"

"Did."

"Slew the hydra."

"Did."

"And forced the evil and battle-crazed Amazons to submit to your superior strength and wisdom, becoming docile concubines throwing themselves upon you."

Hercules barked out a guffaw and laughed so hard that he had to stop and bend over to get his breath. "So not, not, not," he gasped out. "Gods, when did that happen and where was I?"

"Just a little fantasy we've been kicking around in the Forum," she teased, laughing also.

"Right. I can see Lessa joining in that one," he said. "She'd cut me into pieces before she'd be a 'concubine throwing herself upon me.'" Kendaa had started off again, leaving him to regain his composure. He soon caught up with her. "I'm sorry but you can't come with me."

"Well, I will bend to your wishes and return to my sisters," Kendaa stated. "But remember that I said it was a bad idea. I don't think the Oracle is right."

"You question wisdom of the gods?" Hercules asked, feigning surprise.

The half-Dryad looked askance at him. "Always."

The two parted ways a day and a half later and Kendaa headed back to the village of the Queen to report in and update her sovereign on the lack of progress toward a resolution to the famine. On the way, the friends saw more evidence in field and farm of the growing deprivation. Farmers approached them for money. Farm animals usually kept for breeding or working the soil were being slaughtered for food. By the time the comrades said their goodbyes, they were both silent with dread and desolate in mood.

Hercules kissed Kendaa lightly on the lips as they embraced. "Be well, stay safe," he whispered.

"You also, my friend. And don't take foolish chances, though I must say again, I think this trip is a fool's errand."

"I know it is but it's all I have to go on," the tall man replied. They embraced again parted. Kendaa turned toward the village of the Queen.

Hercules made quick time to the sea port of Naupactus. He knew several captains there who had helped in the building of the Argo, the fabled ship that took Jason and the Argonauts on their quest for the fleece. The half god came into the sea port and made his way to the docks. The town was practically deserted now as people sailed to different lands to find food, work, and relief from the curse that plagued the Greek mainland. Hercules as surprised to find that only one captain that he knew was still there. Others, even men who had retired years ago had taken to their ships and sailed. Mailos stayed and the warrior found from talking to the denizens of the docks that it was because he had fallen on hard times that he had not left also.

He found the old man in a tavern. The seedy place was almost empty. Mailos sat in the corner nursing a cup of ale. He saw Hercules come in. At first the old eyes didn't recognize him but then the captain gave a toothy grin and stood up.

"Boy," he said jovially, "what are you doing in a rat's nest like this. You could be eating pealed grapes in a palace."

Hercules laughed and embraced the old man. During the building of the Argos, many men hailed the young half god as a hero, catering to him to gain favors with him and the young Jason. The position was distasteful to Hercules and he made it known to them that he expected to be treated like an equal. This had the unfortunate effect of turning many against him and he was then regarded as a snob and ungrateful. The whole thing was confusing and frustrating for the young man. Iolaus seemed to understand it intuitively and tried to get him to use the attention to the advantage of the Argonauts but Hercules just couldn't get use to the duplicity.

Mailos had been different. From the beginning he treated all of the young men like his crew. He and Argos, the chief builder for whom the ship was named, had learned ship building together. Argos was better with overall design and construction but Mailos was a genius with fittings. The ship had held together through unbelievable testing because of the combined brilliance of the two men.

But Mailos had not been able to sail on the quest despite his constant work on the project. At the launching of the boat off the shore, Mailos had taken ill with a swamp fever. It was decided that he would stay behind. He had recovered to build a small fleet for the Athenians and had made a fortune while the Argonauts went on their adventure but the fevers never completely left him. The other unfortunate path he took was to marry a woman much younger than he who had no trouble spending his money until he was left with his skills and his reputation only. Then she disappeared as quickly as his fortune had.

Now the illness came on him so frequently that he could no longer work. He motioned Hercules to a seat and the hero could see in the dimness of the tavern that he was feverish even now. He began to remark on it when Mailos grimaced and waved his words away.

"Blast, boy, I helped to build one of the finest ships that ever sailed. I have built fleets, loved queens, walked with heroes." He looked at the half god fondly. "So I have a fever! I'm going to die. We all do. But I've had a finer life than most men could and I don't regret a moment of it."

Hercules grinned. "Queens?" he asked joking.

The old sailor grinned back. "And some of them were even women!" The two men laughed at the salty sailor's joke but Hercules became serious in a moment.

"Mailos, I need a ship and someone to help me sail it to the far end of the inner sea."

"Because?"

"Because I have been told by the Oracle at Delphi that there lies the answer to what plagues us."

"You go to Atlantis?" the old man asked.

Hercules snorted. "I certainly hope not. I didn't think I had to go that far. I was told to go to the island of Kailos."

"Kailos! Boy, where have you been? Kailos was swallowed up by an earthquake about five or six months ago. Borandolo and Kepta told me when they came back from the far side of the sea. They were trading to the north of Carthage, you know, where your pillars are." He grinned.

"My… oh." Hercules shook his head in disgust. The legends now spoke that he had pushed the land masses aside and let in the ocean waters. The formations at the far west end of the inner sea were known as the Pillars of Hercules. He sometimes found this amusing as he had never been that far west.

"They told me that an earthquake rocked the inner sea and Kailos and two other smaller islands sank like rocks. Gone."

Hercules looked disappointed and sighed out loud. "This is very confusing, Mailos," he replied. "Why would the Oracle send me to an island that doesn't exist?" He thought for a moment. "Kendaa said it was a bad idea," he whispered half to himself. He looked back at the old man. "Perhaps it is still there and no one has found it. Maybe this is a test of my faith by the Oracle."

The sailor looked back at him with doubt written on the lines of his weathered face. "You never struck me as the piteous type. What makes you so susceptible now to the whims of the gods."

Hercules sighed again, hanging his head and sipping on his ale. He was silent for a moment then looked up at the his friend. "Mailos, I am so tired." He sat back in his chair and looked at the wound now almost healed on his arm. "I know I have gifts that others envy," he said slowly. "But with those gifts have come responsibilities that I just …" He shook his head, his voice faded away. He looked up at the old man. "I don't know what to do. I am so damn tired of the gods and their nonsense. I just don't know. Advise me, Mailos."

Mailos snorted and laughed. "If you, who have the ear of the gods, who can't get a straight story from the Oracle at Delphi, have to come to a feverish, poor old sailor for advice, then this world is in much worse trouble than I care to think." He looked at his young friend and then slapped him on the arm lovingly. "Son, I saw you hold off the dogs of envy, sail away with heroes and bring back a fortune, you've held the world on your shoulders." He held up his hand as Hercules began to speak. "And I don't mean that literally. You got a bum reading from the Oracle. Well either she's pissed at you for not givin' her a good pecking or she's not a good Oracle."

Hercules frowned. "What?"

The sailor frowned. "Which part of that didn't ya understand?"

The warrior thought for a moment as the old man called for more ale and some bread and cheese. Hercules had never heard of the Oracle requiring a blood sacrifice in any way. It was even said that blood should never be shed in the temple and the temple was closed when the Oracle was supposedly on her time of the month. He looked back at the old man now.

"I think you're right," he said.

Mailos swallowed his ale. "Imagine that."

Hercules laughed. "It's time I took this to Olympus. You're right. I should have the ear of my father but I haven't dared ask his advice. I've never gotten it before. As a matter of fact, he usually tries to talk me out of these things." He was talking to himself now. "But damnit, he is always telling me how he loves his mortal charges." He looked over at Mailos. "Loves some of them a little more than others," he added.

"Good thing or we wouldn't be having this conversation," the sailor replied.

"Okay," Hercules said, pounding his fist on the table. Everything on it jumped in unison. "Back to Olympus and to the gods and this time I am getting an answer."

"Good, I'll go with ya," the sailor answered.

"What?" he said again.

"I missed one adventure 'cause I was sick," Mailos said. "I'm not missing another."

"Mailos, you're still sick. And it's been fifteen years since the Argo sailed. You can't keep up with me."

"I know but you're strong. If I can't keep up, you can carry me," the old man stated to his friend. "Look on the bright side, son. Perhaps I'll die on the way. Then you don't have to worry about either."

Ares, the great God of War, trailed behind a black cat that walked out of the building. He felt ridiculous and was glad to see that there was no one in the antechamber or even in the front of the building. This seemed unusual but the god shrugged it off as he was so relieved.

The cat walked down the middle of the road that led to the temple. The country lane was lined with feathery trees that hid the fields being worked by the farmers on the rocky terrains of Greece. The country was not known for its good soil anywhere but in the north and so its people traded or marauded to obtain the food and supplies that the stingy earth would not yield. Now the earth was even more withholding.

Ares caught up with the animal walking along. "Well, now what?" he said, trying to sound matter of fact when in reality he was both excited by the prospect of working with the once great warrior, yet embarrassed that he had to have help. He thought about this dilemma for a moment then shrugged it off. Asking for help was no crime and he could learn from her just as others learned from him. He took the change in stride.

"Good," said the cat.

"Good?"

"Good that you put away pride and focus on improvement," she answered.

"Could you stay out of my mind, please?" he said testily.

"Do you say out of the minds of your subjects?" she replied.

"I try to and I'm not your subject," he retorted, feeling himself reacting.

"You don't and you are," she said. Her answer seemed final. "You have problems with this form?" she asked stopping on the path and turning her green eyes up toward him. He stopped in unison, sighing at the question.

"I don't…"

But before he could finish, instead of the cat, a tall dusky skinned woman stood in front of him. She was dressed in the clothing of the ancient Egyptians. She had on a tunic of linen that came to about her mid thigh, a belt of leather with a short sword in a sheath, bracelets of gold inlaid with precious gems, sandals of brown leather and a necklace of woven gold and bright blue metal mesh studded with beads that extended from her long neck down to her shoulders forming a yoke front and back. Her face was that fair Egyptian form that fascinated men, with high cheekbones, full lips and deep eyes heavily lined with kohl. She was bald and even though Ares was not used to such a fashion, he found it very attractive. He was surprised to see that she was actually looking down at him, being several inches taller than he.

"This is the form of Sekhmet," she said. "I will keep this form for the time being in order to meet the coming battle."

"A little more impressive than the cat," he said flatly.

She smiled. It was an enigmatic smile. "Oh, you'd be surprised what that form can do," she said quietly.

"Yes, I think I would," he replied. He bowed his head slightly. "So, I ask again. What now?"

She crossed her arms over her chest with the same fluid grace as a cat. Her fingers were long and fine, with long unpolished nails. She looked down the road, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You know. I don't know." She thought for a moment. "I was expecting guidance but it has not come yet."

Ares frowned. "From?"

She looked at him sadly and said nothing.

The God of War blushed slightly. "Oh. Well, so what do we do?"

She smiled again. Now the smile was friendly. "We wait."

Hercules strode along with Mailos in his arms like a baby. The old man didn't seem the least bit embarrassed at being carried and the warrior was a little perturbed about this. Mailos could tell by the lack of conversation and his young friend's face set in a stony look. He grinned.

"Really annoying, ain't it?" he asked.

"What?" Hercules replied, half hoping that his tone would cut the man's inquiry short.

"Carrying me like this and all," the sailor replied.

"I don't mind," Hercules lied.

The man laughed out loud. "Put me down, ya lying dog! It's almost dark and we'll make camp."

Hercules could feel his frustration explode. He let the man drop less gently than he intended and then had to catch him so that he didn't fall to the ground. He guided the man onto his feet. The old tar was still giggling.

"I say when we stop," Hercules said through clenched teeth.

"Very well," Mailos answered. "So pick me up again." He held out his arms to have the warrior grab him.

Hercules felt his patience unravel. "Mailos, I never knew you to be a foolish man. Why are you doing this now? Why are you slowing me down? I'm sorry you're sick but I have important work to do. Look around! This world is in sorry shape!"

He towered over the small old sailor who looked up with eyes faded by years in the sun. Mailos looked up at the tall warrior with the face of wisdom. He had funny look on his face as if he knew something. Hercules' eyes narrowed.

"What do you know?" he asked, now half hopeful and half wary. This would not be the first time that he had been duped by a god or a demon.

"I know this is my last day on earth," the sailor replied candidly. "I know that you are a good man who wants to help everyone and everything." He turned and walked slowly over to a fallen log by the path and sat down. Hercules trailed after him. "But you cannot help in this struggle." Mailos sighed and shrugged, looking up at Hercules. "Make me a fire and let's have some food and wine. I'm old. I'm going to go very soon to the other side. I have no idea if Tartarus or the Elysian Fields awaits me after the ride over the river but I know that you can't help in this fight. I don't know how I know but I just know." He began to unload his knapsack and Hercules realized that he had brought a feast. Wine and cheese. Honeyed bread, fruit that would go bad shortly so he must have been planning this meal. The half god frowned, squatting down in front of the old man on the log.

"Mailos, why didn't you tell me?"

The old man smiled sadly. "I knew the moment you walked in the tavern that you were on the wrong path. I was so proud of the fact that you came to see me…" His voice trailed off. "I just wanted to spend some time with you. I sure as Tartarus didn't want you going off on some wild goose chase to Kailos."

Hercules gasped. "You mean that Kailos is still there?" he yelled. He stood up, backing away from the old man. He felt an anger that he had not in many years, the same anger that he had when his father would command him not to pursue something that he felt strongly about because it would inconvenience that king of the gods, or trick him so that he was put off the path of he followed. A rage came up that Hercules feared would cause him to strike the old man so he backed away.

"How dare you lead me astray!" he shouted. "How dare you!"

Mailos continued putting out the food. "Hercules, I'm not your father," he said. "I don't have any reason to hurt you and I have no concern for anything but your welfare. Well, and a little proud at spending some time with you before I go. I think that sometimes in your last hours, you have a power that others don't. I heard this from old sailors when I was young but I never believed him. Now, I'm beginning to think he was right. Please, sit down."

Despite his anger, the half god sat down on the ground in front of the old man. He felt his irritation melt away. He realized that the man was speaking from the heart.

"I should go get some firewood if you want a fire," Hercules said.

"You won't run away, will you?" Mailos said, arching an grizzled eyebrow.

"And leave you here? I wouldn't think of it," Hercules answered, smiling.

Soon he was back with wood and the fire blazed as night fell, taking the last of the twilight from the land. Hercules bit into the dried meat and cheese layered in a piece of bread and realized how hungry he was. He downed some wine, drinking deeply of the watered sweet red wine. He thought of the hunger that plagued his people and the taste of the food lost its appeal. Mailos seemed to sense this. He snorted and put another log on the fire.

"Hercules," he said, "you will not feed the starving by starving yourself." He handed his friend another piece of cheese. Hercules began to turn him down but the old man nudged it into his hand. "Hercules, eat well for me. Just this one night. Help me enjoy this last meal for it will be awhile before you this well again."

"Mailos, how do you know you're going to die? You've been sick for years but you always pull through."

The sailor smiled. He kept crunching on his dry bread but said nothing. Finally, he washed his mouthful down with a generous slurp of wine unwatered. "Herc," he said finally, "forget about my death. I have been looking forward to it for years. My concern now is you." He cut Hercules' response short with a wave of his hand. "No, I know that you can take care of yourself and I know that your chosen path is to help others but let me give you the benefit of my wisdom. If you had a decent father, he would be sitting here telling you this, but your father, our beloved Zeus, well, he's like a big child himself. I can say this as I will soon be out of his realm and probably in a worse one but I don't care."

He pushed the fire around with a stick, gathering his thoughts. "We Greeks are a funny sort. We are so up and up in our thinkin' yet, look at our religion. Don't you think that a smart people should have a smart religion?" He paused to let Hercules think about this for a moment. "Uh?" Hercules shrugged so he went on.

"Sailors see the world. I've been outside our sea, down the coast of Africa, over in the lands of the Israelites. I've traveled down the Nile and seen jungles and I've seen the cold wastelands of the North. Did you know they have different gods?"

Hercules smiled. "Yes, I knew that."

"Well, don't it make ya think? Now they think their gods are the chief ones and we think our gods are the chief ones. Who's right?"

"Mailos, what does this have to do with anything? What does it have to do with me going to Kailos or you dying?" Hercules answered, feeling frustrated. He was beginning to think that the man was losing his mind and he'd saddled himself with someone not only sick in body but sick in the mind. The thought scared him.

"Son, it has everything to do with everything," Mailos replied. "When I was young, I sailed the seas. I worshipped Poseidon because he was god of the sea. Then I got a fever in Africa, it got worse and worse, and my sailing days were over. Do I stop worshipping Poseidon 'cause I'm on the land? Did I change gods? Who do I worship now?"

"Well, Zeus, I guess. He's the king of the gods and he's over all of them."

"Do you worship Zeus?"

Hercules snorted, and took another drink of wine. The wine was now unwatered like his friends. He could feel it going to his head. "No," he said emphatically.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't …"

Mailos knew exactly what the young man was going to say and Hercules knew he knew. He also knew that he could not finish the sentence as it was to painful. Mailos was shaking his head. "I know," he said. They both were silent for a moment.

"We give our allegiance to a king because he's the king and he has the job of taking care of all the people," Mailos went on. "A sailor follows his captain because the man is in charge. He's supposed to know more about the sea and the winds, be better at leading men and know where we're sailing to and why. But if the king is a bad king, we take his crown away and exile him, and if the captain is a bad captain, we mutiny and leave him on an island somewhere."

"What if the king is too powerful," Hercules said, staring into the fire, "and he has his guards keep the people in bondage? What if the captain has paid off enough of the crew to follow him even if he's bad?"

"Well, that's what keeps evil in the world," Mailos replied. "We have to stand up and fight, but that's hard and we don't want to lose."

"Mailos, I've been fighting all my life," Hercules said. His voice shook with emotion. "But the king is still in charge and the captain goes on giving orders at the tiller. It never changes."

The old man looked across the fire at him. "Don't ya feel it?" he asked in a whisper.

"Feel what?"

"The change, it's coming," the old man replied. "Not out there?" He motioned across the fields and woods. "But here." He pointed to his heart. "This is where the great battle takes place." Hercules said nothing but continued to watch the old man. Finally Mailos went on. "So I ask you, what do you believe in?"

Hercules thought for a moment. The wine made words and thoughts tumble and dance around in his head. "I believe a man makes his own destiny."

"Oh, really?" Mailos replied sarcastically. "And your family? Was that their destiny? To be burned to cinders? Was it your destiny to walk alone?"

Mailos had gone right for the heart with the comment and Hercules stared at him angrily. "There's nothing I could have done for my family. Hera took them from me."

"And do ya think she'll pay for what she did?"

"If I have anything to say about it, she will," he answered.

"Ya probably won't," he replied. "Have anything to say about it, I mean. She's a god and she's too powerful. And just like that powerful king who has his guard keep the people in bondage, she will keep us in bondage as long as she can."

"And that's it!" the tall man replied angrily. "We're just pieces in some great cosmic game? I can't believe that. I won't believe that."

"When I was in the land of the Parthians, I met an old man who lived in the desert. I was young like you are now, and I was angry like you are now," Mailos replied. "My father had been executed because he displeased the king. My mother killed herself from the grief and my sister was taken to the palace and made a concubine to the king who had just killed her whole family 'cept me. I escaped on a ship by selling myself into slavery. I paid off my debt with three long years at the oar and left on the shores of the East to make my fortune." He snorted. "My fortune. Right!"

"The man in the desert," Hercules reminded him.

"I haven't forgotten," Mailos said. "Just takin' the long way around. So I found myself in the East. Alone, poor but free. I wanted to explore the East before I came back to Greece, so I set out with a bag of bread, and hard tack and water, and went off into the land to see what I could see. Not long into the journey, I met a man by the side of a road. It was a remote road and I don't think he had seen anyone else for quite some time. Didn't care though. I just stood there lookin' at him and he grinned at me and nodded, holding out his hand. I asked what he wanted and he told me that for a piece of my cheese, he'd give me a secret. So I thought to myself, I can get a secret for the price of a piece of cheese, or at worst, I can give away a little of my food to a beggar." Mailos stopped to take a drink, and then stared into the fire. For a moment, Hercules thought that he'd forgotten his story.

"So?" Hercules prompted him.

"So, what?" Mailos said looking up at him.

Hercules sat back, throwing his arms out in complete exasperation. "So what did the old man tell you?" he exclaimed. He saw a smile creeping over the old man's face. "Don't play with me this way, old man," he added trying not to smile himself.

"He said I was going the wrong way," Mailos replied. "He pointed West and told me Greece was that way. Then…," He leaned over the fire and handed Hercules a piece of fruit. "Then he gave me back my piece of cheese and he said 'God made this cheese.' I asked him, 'Which god?' And son, he told me, 'there's only one god. The rest are just passin' through just like you and me.'" Mailos' eyes glowed with an inner light. "Do ya understand, son?"

Hercules snorted. He was drunk now and the tension of the day had given way to the effect of the wine. "Did you ask him what this god's name was?"

Mailos put out his hands in surprised response. "You betcha, and he said, 'when you're the only true god, ya don't need a name.' Then he gave me back my cheese and walked off."

Hercules didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He shook his head in confusion. "That's the point of your story? That there's only one god? Okay, so? What's he, she or it going to do about this? What has she done about this so far? Why does he let men suffer? Why won't it help us?" He paused for effect. "Uh?"

"How do you know God isn't helping already?"

Hercules laughed. "Well, it isn't fixed yet!" He stood up, looking up at the night sky studded with stars. "Heh!" he called out, a little unsteady on his feet, "If you're up there and you're listening, we are in serious trouble down here! May not look that way from up there where it's all nice and cozy and all." He spun around letting the wine take its course. "Any time you're ready, just come on down and fix this mess," he cried out. He could feel his voice crack with emotion. "There's children dying and women crying. Men fighting each other for little scraps of food, running away to other places leaving their families behind just to save their own sorry asses." He began to weep. "Any time now!"

He looked over at Mailos. The man had slid to the side. Hercules went over to him. Hercules picked the man up in his arms. In the loneliness of the firelit night, he let out the frustration and pain that had built up since the death of his family. Mailos was dead.

Kendaa reported to her Queen. She felt numb. She had left her good friend Hercules to go off on a quest about which she had serious doubts and she had left the dark God of War to go his way to an equally unsettling fate. They had parted under less that perfect circumstances and the amazon felt a deep sadness at it.

After her report, she went back to the hut of Laurissa. She smiled as she went into the now empty hut. The old woman would be in in a moment and Kendaa recalled the night she had spent with Hercules when last they were here. She stood in the front room of the home of her friend. It was cool, even chilly, tidy and well furnished though sparse. She heard the old woman come in.

"Your friend not with you?" said the old prostitute.

"No," Kendaa answered.

"Pity, he was easy to look at," the old woman answered. She began to putter around the room, leaving food on the table and picking up the armor that the tall amazon had left on the floor. "I thought when I came to this nation that I had had my fill of men, literally and figuratively." She laughed to herself. "But I miss them." She began to undress the warrior, putting the clothing over her shoulder to take it out. "Men give us balance. They are hard where we are soft. They are the right to our left, the darkness to our light and the reverse. I miss them always trying to fix everything and solve every problem. I just miss them." She held up the clothing that she had stripped off the woman. Kendaa sat down at bed and nibbled the bread and fruit that the woman had brought. She was naked now as the woman looked over her clothing.

"Well, it's nice not to have to worry about dressing," Kendaa said. "I can walk to the mess tent like this if I want. Who will care?" She smiled as the other laughed.

"I will mind," the old woman replied. "Walking around like that will just make the rest of us jealous. Bath's ready out back." She left. Kendaa took a plate of food and a goblet of wine and went into the back of the hut and out to a large copper vat that had been filled with warm water. She was about to get in when Laurissa came through the hut.

The two embraced. "Join me," Kendaa said. "It's your bath anyway."

The buxom blonde stripped off her armor and clothing in an instant and was in the bath before Kendaa. The dryad laughed at the idea that Laurissa could undress more quickly than anyone she knew. Creature comforts were a particular favorite of the amazon. Though she could be the hardest of leaders in battle and relentless when on a forced march, when Laurissa eased off, she eased off into luxury. She drank the finest wine, ate good food though not much of it even in times of plenty, wore linen next to her skin that queens would kill for, and had the most elegant copper bath that she had set in a small patio at the back of her hut. No one quite understood, in a nation that valued sparseness and stoic lifestyle how she could obtain things so easily but Kendaa understood. Laurissa expected the best of things. She didn't make a scene of things or flaunt what she had. She just expected the best and it came. When it didn't come, she would shrug and wait but it always came. The others in the forum held her in a certain envious adoration for her attitude.

Now Kendaa enjoyed one of the benefits of this attitude. The two sank into the huge vat as steam rose off the water.

"All right," Laurissa said, letting the water soak away her muscle aches, "tell me every detail of your time with the God of War."

Kendaa smiled and began to tell her close friend about her time in the company of the dark god.

The great hall of the gods was abuzz with excitement. Apollo had called for a council of war. This was unprecedented in the history of Olympus. Every god and goddess was readying for some huge undertaking. On the earthly plane, the sun was setting but here the sun never set. The sky was always blue. The crystal throne room was busy filling up with the immortal beings gossiping and primping, some going from group to group to talk. Others waiting and looking at the twelve thrones that lined the room.

Six of the twelve had already arrived. Aphrodite popped in, materializing in front of her throne and sitting down, crossing her legs gracefully. She looked worried. Hades materialized, then the doors at the end of the room opened and Zeus and Hera strode in majestically, nodding to this one and that one. They took the thrones at the end of the room, a little higher than the others. Now the only throne unclaimed were Apollo's and the God of War's. Hera motioned for silence.

Then in front of his throne to the right of Zeus, Apollo materialized. His handsome features had a darkness now about them. Zeus frowned, Hera smirked. Aphrodite gasped quietly. At that moment, everyone knew that Apollo was something different.

"Greetings, fellow immortals," he said with a slight hiss in his voice. Godlets began to fade into the background, looking for a way out. "Don't go," he said, blocking their way with a wave of his hand. The temperature in the room dropped as the Ancient One gathered up his new subjects for his viewing.

Hera stood up. She looked confused but covered it over quickly with a conspiratorial smile. "My Lord," she said. "Tell us your wishes."

Apollo looked over at her. "I forgive you for your betrayal of your kind," he said. Whispers started and Zeus' head whipped around in horror. "But I cannot have such an untrustworthy subject among my followers." His hand twitched and the great goddess screamed once then vanished into dust at the foot of the throne. The gods of Olympus stood dumbfounded. "Now," said the Ancient One, "where is the one they call Discord?"

"So we wait," Ares said, stirring the fire. He had wanted to return to his fortress with the Ancient One but she ordered him to make a fire in a clearing beyond the field near the Oracle's home. Ares wanted to impress his comrade but she was unmoved by his desires. She built a fire with wood, like an ordinary person, using flint to spark dry leaves.

"Can't we just…"

"No," she replied, cutting him off. "we will conserve our powers and act as mortal beings for now."

"Because?"

"Because it helps us to understand the struggle of those who serve us."

Now she sat on a log and warmed her hands by the fire. Ares sat on the other side looking across at her. "So we wait?" he asked. "Any idea how long?"

She smiled. "You're not used to waiting, are you?"

Ares slight smile disappeared as he remembered the pain of waiting when he was young. He had lived a carefree childhood. He had known he would be the God of War but had no idea how his untroubled childhood would translate into the harshness of his duty. Then on one fateful day, everything changed and his joy was taken from him as his parents gave him up to the darkness that would be his duty. He shivered inwardly as he thought about this. "I know all about waiting," he said quietly.

Sekhmet smiled. "That was not waiting. That was torture."

Ares looked up at her. He wanted to reply with something clever or wise but he couldn't think of anything. She was right.

"Waiting has purpose. Your torture had no purpose."

"It made me the God of War," Ares said.

"No, you were already the God of War," she replied. "The ordeal your parents put you through was designed to break your spirit, bind you to them not prepare you for your duty."

Ares frowned. "Why?"

"Did they do that?"

"Yes," he answered. "Why did they hurt me?"

The Ancient One looked across at Ares. She waited for a moment, her eyes sad. "Because they could."

Ares stared back at her. His face twisted into a grimace of pain. "Just because?" he whispered.

"Just because."

Suddenly he was enraged. He stood up, clenching his fists. "Well, lady," he yelled, "that is just not good enough. Not good enough!"

"Why do you rail at the evil men do?" she asked, looking up at him. Her eyes held a look of pity. "You have done this to others. Just because you could. You have abused your power, tricked, hurt, deceived, intimidated, all for the sake of power. Why is your action any different than your parents?"

"I have never violated an innocent," he said.

The Ancient One shook her head in disgust. "Look at what men do in the name of war?" she replied angrily. "Until you learn honor and humility, oh, and some sense, you will never truly be the first warrior, my first warrior."

Ares stared at her. He didn't know where to start with a reply. He didn't know if he wanted to reply. Her first warrior. The chosen of an Ancient One. The thought thrilled him beyond words and caused a fear to come up that was equally without expression. He stood over the woman, staring dumbly at her. "Me?" was all that he could get out.

"Ares, you have the spark within you," she said. "You are out of place consorting with the likes of your parents. You are capable of more."

"But…"

The look on the face of the majestic woman cut short his response. Suddenly he felt like a cadet making excuses instead of preparing himself for his training. She smiled at feeling his confusion and nodded her head slowly. "Calm yourself," she said soothingly. She motioned him to sit and he did.

They sat by the fire waiting quietly for a while. Ares wanted to say something brilliant or insightful but would evaluate a thought then reject it as trite or foolish. The Ancient One seemed to sense his discomfort. She smiled finally.

"Are you troubled by silence?" she asked.

"I just want to impress you," he whispered, appalled when the truth it his feelings came out in words. He has never in his life been so candid with anyone.

She smiled, shaking her head sadly. "Blessed one, you already have. You've no need to prove yourself to me. I know that you are capable, now I need you to know what I know. Once you know that you are the first warrior, your life will never be the same. The petty squabbles of the so-called gods, your feelings about Hercules, your role as the supreme soldier… they will never be the same. They will be altered for the rest of your life."

The War God let out the breath he had been holding. It came out in kind of sigh.

Suddenly she stiffened as if she sensed something. Ares hand went to the hilt of his sword and he stood up looking around.

"No," she said, putting her hand out to stop him. "We are not in danger. I just sense…"

In the dimness of the setting sun, there was a light in the distance that both could now clearly see. It looked like something on fire. Ares began to head toward it but Sekhmet stopped him.

"Ares, I must go over there. The sign is given. Come with me but stay back when I tell you to as we will be coming to a sacred place."

The God of War nodded his acknowledgment and the two set off toward the light.

Sekhmet and her companion, the dark God of War of the Greeks, approached a light that shone in the distance. At first, Ares thought it was a torch, but as he came closer, he saw with a feeling of eerie reverence that he could not explain, that it was a bush, burning in a clearing, but never being consumed. He knew intuitively that he was approaching holiness. He stopped many yards away allowing the tall female to go on alone. She nodded her acknowledgement, taking heart that the one she chose understood.

At the outer reaches of the fire's light in the darkness of the night, the tall woman knelt and made a sign the meaning of which was unknown to Ares. She then took off her shoes and stood up, continuing into the fire's light as the bush burned. There she stood for sometime,