Cat’s transition from sleep to awareness was instantaneous and complete. The faint but distinct scent of burning incense intrigued the warrior, as did the feel of a mattress under her body and a pillow under her head. Her last memory was of a battle far from her private hideaway. More intriguing, however, was the feeling of being watched, and the sound of slow steady breathing – or, rather, the fact that these observations did not cause her to feel threatened. As Cat rolled over she took the opportunity to cautiously tense and relax every muscle, somewhat surprised to find no soreness or stiffness. Curious, she finally opened her eyes.

And found herself looking into a pair of emerald eyes, framed by tousled blonde hair. Concern was evident in those brilliant green orbs, as was another emotion, one that Cat could not place.

Angie blinked as she looked into twin pools of deepest sapphire, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips. Her ensuing smile lit up her entire face, and Cat found herself noticing, not for the first time, just how attractive the young storyteller was.

“How do you feel?” Angie asked softly.

“Good.” Cat stretched fluidly, finishing her evaluation of her body’s condition. “Better than I have in a long time,” she admitted.

“Same here.” Angie regarded the older woman intently. “What do you remember?”

Cat thought for a moment.

“I remember fighting Callisto’s soldiers, facing off with one big fellow with a mace.” Cat’s hand drifted to her head. “I tried to block a blow to my head, but I lost my footing...Then I woke up here. What happened? And where are we?”

Angie’s face went pale, and her voice strained against suppressed emotions. “He bashed your head in. I killed him. Then I brought you here.” Angie struggled to maintain her composure, not wanting the warrior to know how scared she had been. “I knew that moving you was dangerous, but getting you to the temple was your only chance.”

“Which temple?”

“The Temple of the Three Goddesses. I...I prayed for them to heal you. I couldn’t lose you, not again.” Tears leaked from Angie’s eyes as she finally gave in to the intense emotions of the last day.

“Again? Oh.” Cat remembered one of the stories the young woman had told her, the story that first made her realize the depth of Xena and Gabrielle’s relationship. Gently she reached out and lifted the storyteller’s chin, brushing away the tears. “You were remembering taking Xena to Niklio.”

Angie just nodded, very aware of the sensations caused by her companion’s fingers stroking her face.

“I guess one of the goddesses heard you.” Cat smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “I haven’t felt this good in years.”

“I...I didn’t just ask them to heal you,” Angie admitted. “I...I asked them to help us fight Callisto and Ares.” Angie looked down, unable to meet Cat’s steady gaze any longer. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Why should I mind?” Cat’s voice was low and neutral.

“I...you’ve never really said how you feel about the gods. Xena would have taken my, I mean, Gabrielle’s head off.” Angie smiled weakly.

“But I’m not Xena,” Cat softly reminded her companion. “And from what you’ve told me, I don’t think that would have been Xena’s reaction. I can’t imagine her getting that angry at Gabrielle.”

“That’s because I haven’t told you about the time Xena almost killed Gabrielle out of anger and hatred.” Angie closed her eyes as the memories of one of the most painful events of her past life filled her mind and heart. “It all started when Xena and I went to Brittania to help fight Caesar....”

Angie spent several hours telling Cat about the worst year in Xena and Gabrielle’s time together, pausing only when a priestess brought them lunch. She had already told the warrior bits and pieces of the story, but now she finally tied them all together, describing the rift that nearly destroyed the Warrior Princess and the Amazon Queen. Then she told how Solan’s love for the mother he barely knew allowed him to bring the two women to the realm of the Fates, where they overcame their anger and hatred, and began repairing their shattered friendship.

“Friendship?” Cat looked at the storyteller. Not the best time to bring this up, but it’ll do. “Not just friends, I think.”

“No, not just friends,” Angie admitted softly.

“They were lovers, weren’t they? Weren’t WE?”

“Yes.” Angie found herself once again unable to meet the warrior’s eyes. “Once we... once Xena and Gabrielle started traveling together, there was no one else, for either of them. They both tried to ignore it, Gabrielle even married a childhood friend, but after Xena died and could hear Gabrielle’s thoughts... well, it still took them a while to do anything about it, but they eventually did.” Angie took a slow deep breath. “I didn’t bring it up because, well, I didn’t want you to think....”

“Angie.” The storyteller could not resist the compelling tone in the low voice, and raised her eyes to meet Cat’s. “Once, many centuries ago, many lifetimes ago, you and I were a bard and a warrior named Gabrielle and Xena. Now, we are,” Cat smiled, “a bard and a warrior called Angie and Cat. There are certain similarities, certain parallels, between who we were, and who we are. But I would never base a personal relationship on something that happened millennia ago.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you’ve been doing?” Angie asked with a smile of her own.

“No, it’s not. I have no memories of that life, remember? So my reactions to you, my decision to trust what you were telling me, were based totally on MY instincts, not Xena’s memories.”

“I know, it’s just, well, I DO remember my life as Gabrielle, sometimes it seems more real than this life. And I... I get... confused sometimes. It’s... kinda scary,” Angie admitted. “Funny, the memories seem less... invasive today.”

“Maybe when you asked the gods for help, they distanced you from your memories,” Cat suggested. “It seems to me that we’ll have a better chance of defeating our enemies if we can combine Xena and Gabrielle’s experiences and knowledge with our own, rather that relying just on memories.”

“You’re probably right.” Angie brightened noticeably. “Ready to go outside? It’s a beautiful day, and we need to figure out what to do about the Hell-Hounds.”

“What day is it?” Cat asked as she pulled on her boots. “When is the new moon?”

“Tonight.”

Ice sat in the command tent, studying maps of the area around New Athens. No one had questioned his actions regarding the boy; he had even heard some whispered speculation that he had sacrificed the slave to Ares. Let them think what they will. By this time tomorrow it won’t make any difference.

Upon his return to the camp he had found Lieutenant Mallory waiting with the men responsible for the attack on the boy: eight of Heywood’s friends, angry at their captain for executing the squad commander. Ice had immediately called for a military court, and within the hour the eight rapists had been executed – by Ice, personally.

He shook his head, trying to concentrate on the maps in front of him. Ever since leaving the temple he had known that a battle was on the horizon, a chance for him to shed the slimy skin he had been wearing and let his true colors show. He had seen the boy’s face regain color, against all hope, and had heard his breathing steady. And then he had seen the two figures in the main sanctuary.

Somehow he knew that it was HER, the storyteller they were supposed to take back to Callisto. And the figure she knelt over had to be the warrior-woman he had been told about. He had stayed in the doorway for many minutes, watching as the blonde knelt over the injured woman, obviously praying to the goddesses for assistance, just as he had done in the smaller chapel dedicated to Athena. As he had watched, he had seen the eyes of all three statues start to glow, just as the statue of Athena had done in response to his prayers a short time earlier.

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. If I can keep the Hell-Hounds from killing them, and keep them from killing me, together we might be able to stop Callisto and Ares, maybe even....

The Hell-Hound commander’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of one of the sentry runners.

“Message from the scouts, sir. They found Lieutenant Carson’s unit, or what’s left of it.” The runner handed a folded note to her commander, who snapped it open and glanced at the contents.

“All dead. And that big sergeant of hers decapitated. Interesting.” Ice crumbled up the note and tossed it to the ground. “Message to all officers: reinforcements ambushed. Go to full battle alert until further notice.”

“Yessir!”

Ice watched from inside the tent as the runner made her way to the sub-commanders, and the camp sprang to life. He waited for the usual nervousness to creep into his stomach, but it never came. Instead, he found himself calmly anticipating the battle to come, a battle that would change his life, or end it.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Angie looked at the warrior in total disbelief. “You’re just going to sneak into the camp, take out a dozen sentries, and then kill a hundred men while they sleep?”

“Not a hundred. With the men kept stationed at the roadblocks, the patrols in town, and the camp guards, there should only be eighty-eight soldiers in the camp.” Cat finished stretching and looked up. “Do you have a better plan?”

“I do.”

Angie whirled at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, but Cat just rose gracefully to her feet.

“Wondered when you’d come out of the trees.” Cat found herself looking straight into eyes that couldn’t seem to decide if they were blue or gray. The newcomer was Cat’s height, with long chestnut hair hanging in a braid down her back. A plain leather baldric supported a cavalry sabre, and a second strap held a quiver of arrows against her back. “Who are you?”

“I am Moira, Commander of the Amazon Guard. We’re here to help.” The redhead looked over her shoulder and gestured, and two dozen armed women stepped into view. “Takes your odds from eighty-eight to one down to four to one.”

Angie’s eyes widened, then a grin danced across her face.

“Now THAT’S a better plan!”

Less than an hour passed before a battle-plan was agreed upon by Cat, Angie, and the Amazons. The women would travel until dark, camping about three hours easy ride from the Hell-Hound camp. They would move out again two hours before false dawn, attacking the camp as the sun peeked over the horizon. Cat tried to talk Angie into staying behind, but Moira and her second-in-command, Jotahn, claimed that their goddesses had instructed that Angie be given proper weapons so that she could take part in the battle. Jotahn then produced a finely crafted bow and a score of arrows, as well as a stout staff. Cat watched with amazement as Angie stepped a few yards away and began a sophisticated staff routine.

“Guess I forgot to mention,” Angie said with a grin. “I studied staff in my martial arts classes. And ever since I started remembering my life as Gabrielle, I’ve been practicing with a thicker staff, like this one. For a bard I was pretty good in a fight!”

That comment prompted a brief sparring session with Jotahn, then Moira, and finally Cat. All three warriors declared the young storyteller competent to take part in the battle, although Cat was visibly reluctant in her acceptance. The raven-haired warrior excused herself shortly thereafter, claiming a need to check on her horse.

“What’s happening to me, Demon?” Cat whispered as she combed the mare’s mane. “She is perfectly capable of taking care of herself – why do I feel so protective towards her? Why do I feel lonely when she’s not around?”

“Private conversation?” Moira waited for a definite sign whether or not her presence was desired.

“Nah, just going over the plan with Demon here.” Cat turned to face the Amazon, her best “I-am-a-cold-bitch-of-a-warrior” expression firmly in place. “Can your people be ready to move out in thirty minutes?”

“We’re ready now.” Moira continued to meet Cat’s gaze, a feat not accomplished by many. “Our senior priestess has said that you have a great destiny to fulfill, Cat; impossible things will be expected of you, and drastic steps taken to stop you. More than one god will try to lay claim to you, though you lay claim to none.”

“You’ve got that last part right.” Cat turned to start saddling her mount. “Did she have any other wisdom of the gods to share?”

“As a matter of fact, she did. She said to tell you that the one who speaks the name written on your soul will hold the key to releasing your memories, but not until you accept what that one offers. Only then will the means of unlocking your memories become apparent.” Moira shrugged. “I know, nothing but riddles, but what do you expect?”

“Where the gods and their servants are concerned?” Cat sneered. “Nothing but trouble.”

Before retiring for the evening Ice took a long walk around the camp. His instincts told him that the warrior would attack at dawn, but he had no information on what forces she had at her disposal. She obviously had some sort of assistance – the ambush of Carson’s unit could not possibly have been accomplished by the warrior alone. His thoughts drifted to the men and women under his command, wondering one last time if any of them might be salvageable. As in the past, he could find only one soldier who might be rescued from Ares’ influence – his senior lieutenant, Mallory.

Looking up he realized that his steps had led him to the tent shared by Mallory and her “orderly”, a young female slave who never left the lieutenant’s tent. Ice took a deep breath then stepped up to the flap.

“Mallory?” He waited for a response. “Mallory, are you still awake?”

“Yessir!” The lieutenant’s fuzzy voice belied her response.

“Good. Walk with me.” Ice waited while the lieutenant hastily threw on her uniform. He could not refrain from smiling at the sight of the young woman still pulling on her boots as she half-hopped thru the tent-flap. “Bring the girl.”

“Yes sir.” Mallory hesitated only a moment before calling the slave out.

The two officer walked in silence until they passed the outer perimeter, followed closely by a young girl wearing the standard child-sized uniform and slave collar. Once Ice judged that they were beyond the sentries’ hearing range he came to a standstill and scanned the area he had chosen, assuring himself that they were truly alone.

“Somehow I don’t think you asked me out just to take a stroll in the non-existent moonlight.” Mallory’s grin vanished when she saw the deathly serious expression on her commander’s face. “Is there a problem, sir?”

“Something has been bothering me, Lieutenant. Perhaps you can settle the matter for me.” Ice looked thoughtful. “Of all the officers in the Hell-Hounds, you are the only one whose orderly is never seen outside your rooms or tent, except in your presence. Never. Why is that?”

“I... I....” Mallory found herself stunned by the turn of the conversation.

“I’ve heard various theories, of course,” Ice continued. “Some think you are afraid she’ll run away, others that you don’t want anyone to see the terrible marks you leave on your playtoy.” The captain pulled out one of his prized possessions, a working flashlight with good batteries. “Of course, there’s an easy way to check that one out.” He turned on the light and directed the beam toward the girl. “Take off your clothes.”

Mallory looked outraged at her commander’s order, but with a sharp nod indicated that the girl should comply. The young slave nervously removed her boots, uniform and underclothes, finally standing naked before the two officers.

“Hmmm.” Ice walked around the girl, looking for bruises, scars, or other such marks. “Not a mark to be seen.” He turned off the light. “Get dressed, girl.”

“Sir, is there a purpose to this discussion?”

“Why, Lieutenant Mallory, you sound positively indignant.” Ice felt more certain than ever that Mallory would choose to stand with him when the time came. “Lieutenant, I’m going to tell you something that no one else in the camp knows – and if I hear anyone talking about it, I’ll know you violated my trust in you. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“My orderly is not dead.” Ice closed his eyes for a moment, reliving the moment he knew for certain that the boy would live. “He is currently at a temple some three hours ride from here, where I took him to be healed.”

“But, sir, the only temple in this area is....” Mallory’s eyes went wide as she realized where the captain had gone. “They let you in there, sir?”

Ice answered by pulling a shining silver medallion from under his tunic. Even in the darkness the image of an owl, sacred to Athena, was clearly visible.

“Praise Athena!” The words escaped Mallory’s lips before she realized it. “Sir, I....” Mallory paused, the significance of her commander’s revelation finally occurring to her. “You’ll be leaving soon, then.”

“Not exactly.” Ice watched the lieutenant carefully as he spoke. “Tomorrow, probably at dawn, I expect the camp to be attacked by the storyteller’s protector and whatever forces the warrior has gathered. I will join them during the battle. I would like you to fight beside me.”

“Sir...” Mallory carefully measured her words. “I would be proud and relieved to join you against the Hell-Hounds. But, how did you know you could trust me? Surely not just because of how I treat the girl?”

“No, Lieutenant, not just because of that. Mostly because... I trust my instincts, Mallory, and my instincts told my that you were the only person in the camp I could trust. And, if I’d been mistaken, well....” Ice brought up the hand that had last been seen holding the flashlight, revealing a small revolver. “Had you proved untrustworthy, I would have had a new orderly.”

Dawn found the Hell-Hound camp surrounded by twenty-seven armed and determined women. The sentries had already fallen to Amazon stealth, and one of the roadblocks was now manned by corpses. Jotahn, Angie, and six of the Amazons were at the back of the camp, arrows at the ready, prepared to cut off any retreat in that direction. The rest of the women, led by Moira, waited patiently on their horses for the signal to charge. Cat had made it very clear that she would fight alone, and that the Hell-Hound commander was hers.

Many of the soldiers lounged in their bedrolls, enjoying a few moments of drowsy semi-consciousness before the bugler sounded reveille. What they heard instead was an odd, high-pitched whistle, as one of Cat’s arrows sailed over the camp. A heartbeat later the air was filled with more of the whistling shafts, as the Amazons let loose the arrows the warrior had given them.

True to their status as an elite company, the Hell-Hounds quickly responded to the incoming attack. Soldiers poured out of their tents, swords in hand, shields at the ready. In the center of the camp Ice emerged from the command tent, fully armored, but in place of the standard issue black studded leather jerkin he wore a shirt covered with layered rows of silver-hued metal scales. On his right arm was his shield; the ice-blue dragon, painted in intricate detail, stood out from the midnight blue background. In his left hand he held long, double-edged sword, the hilt worked in the form of a dragon, its wings crafted into the crossguard. He was joined by Lieutenant Mallory, the metal studs of her jerkin painted black to obscure the Hell-Hound insignia.

From her mounted vantage point Cat easily saw the Hell-Hound commander as he stood in the morning light. A look of pure determination flashed across her face as she turned Demon toward the command tent. Soldiers jumped to attack her, and the battle was joined.

First one, then two soldiers fell to Cat’s sword, before two spearmen decided to even the fight by taking down her mount. With a high-pitched scream of pain that faded to a death gurgle the mare went down. Cat sprang easily from the saddle as she felt the mare jerk beneath her, and flipped completely over the small ring of soldiers to land between them and their commander.

Ice watched the raven-haired warrior in utter amazement. He had trained for gymnastics in his youth, but never had he imagined anyone could perform a flip like that from the back of a falling horse. Then she landed, and looked in his direction. His heart stopped as he looked into eyes the same color as his own, eyes he had not looked into for twenty years. But he had never forgotten her.

Movement behind the warrior suddenly caught his attention, and he realized that she was only positioned to stop two of the three attacks being launched at her. Without hesitation he dropped his sword point first into the ground, drew a dagger from his belt, and in a smooth continuation of the same motion launched the blade toward the throat of a Hell-Hound sergeant.

“Lexie! Behind you!”

Cat spun and dropped instinctively, her mind trying to process the use of a childhood nickname. She saw a dagger land in the throat of soldier whose two short swords dropped out of his hands as he fell. Suddenly her mind came up with the only possible explanation for the tall, familiar-looking man using the name of her youth. She hoped fervently that she was wrong.

“Time for us to show our colors, Mallory.” Ice reclaimed his sword from the ground. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Ice.” Somehow rank had lost its importance in the face of the step they were about to take.

“Athena!” Crying his patron’s name Ice launched into the battle, fighting the very men and women he had led for the last nine months. Mallory fought beside him at first, then Cat reached them and the three warriors put their backs to each other in a silent challenge to all comers.

In a matter of minutes silence fell over the camp. The only movement came from horses, and Amazons, and the three figures standing in the middle of a bloody area. Cat turned at last to face the former Hell-Hound commander, unable to deny what she saw.

“Phillip?”

“Yes, Lexie–it’s really me.” Ice turned to Mallory. “Go get the orderlies; let them know they don’t belong to Callisto anymore.”

Mallory just nodded and headed first for the command tent, where her own orderly waited. Ice started to turn back to the dark-haired warrior, only to find himself trapped in a fierce embrace. He returned the hug with equal intensity, and neither warrior was able to stop the tears leaking from their eyes.

“Cat? Are you okay?” Angie quietly approached, not certain what had happened. She recognized the Hell-Hound commander, and had already heard about how he switched sides at the start of the battle, but she could not possibly imagine what could prompt such an emotional display from her companion.

“I’m fine, Angie, just fine.” Cat pulled back, looking Ice in the eye for a long moment. Then she turned to face the concerned storyteller. “Phillip, this is my friend, Angie. Angie, this is Phillip.”

“Uhm, actually, just call me Ice. It’s been my nickname since I was twelve.” Ice reached out to take Angie’s offered hand.

“Pleased to meet you. Now will someone please explain what looked like a tearful reunion?”

“It WAS a tearful reunion,” Cat responded. “Phillip is my brother.”

“He’s your BROTHER?” Moira stared at Cat in utter disbelief.

“Is that why you told us you’d handle the commander?” asked Jotahn.

Cat shook her head.

“I didn’t know who he was until he joined the battle. We haven’t seen each other in twenty years.”

“I’m just glad it’s all over.” Angie sat down next to Cat and reached for a waterskin. “I think we got the all.”

“It’s not over.” Moira handed the storyteller some dried fruit.

“She’s right.” Cat gladly took the waterskin from her companion. “From what you’ve told me about Callisto and Ares, they’ll just come up with another plan to put us out of commission. They probably won’t stop until they have us, or we have them.”

“Callisto we could probably handle.” Angie looked doubtful despite her words. “But how do we stop a god?”

“I don’t suppose you have any Hind’s blood?” Moira asked.

“Not a drop,” Cat answered. “And I doubt the gods allowed the Golden Hinds to return.”

“What about Callisto?” Jotahn suggested. “Might she still have some?”

All eyes turned to Angie.

“Hey, don’t look at me, I only know about the old Callisto, not the new one.” Angie looked thoughtful for a moment. “Of course, it seems to me that the old Callisto would have been canny enough to stash away a bit of the stuff instead of keeping all of it in that vial. But even if she did, how could the new Callisto have it?”

“She’s right,” Cat stated. “Any artifacts from those days would be buried under several layers of dirt and civilization on the other side of the Atlantic.”

“So, what now?” Angie asked the raven-haired warrior.

“Now we wait for Phil–Ice to finish what he’s doing, then we start making some serious plans.

“She’s your sister?” Mallory stared at her former commander in utter disbelief.

“I thought I’d never see her again.” Ice never looked up from cleaning his sword. “When she was brought to trial, just before the Storm, it made the news all the way in England, and I caught the next plane back to the States. The flight landed in Boston, where I was supposed to get a connecting flight to New York. I never got out of Boston. You pretty much know the rest – Callisto’s troops found me, I signed up, and here I am.” His hands stilled as he continues speaking. “When I was first brought to Ares’ attention, he picked up my thoughts about my sister. He told me he’d look for her if I served him well. And just a few nights ago he told me I’d see her soon. Bet he laughed his head off over that one.”

“You think that’s why Callisto sent your company after them?”

“Probably. But now it’s my turn to laugh. When Sergeant O’Shea and his unit report to Callisto that we have the storyteller and the warrior, and are bringing them in, we’ll have at least three weeks before they start suspecting treachery.” Ice looked at his new friend. “You don’t have to stay with us, you know.”

“I know.” Both officers looked up as Mallory’s orderly came up and waited to be acknowledged. “Is everything done?” Mallory asked the girl.

The girl nodded timidly, obviously intimidated by the former commander’s presence.

“Don’t be afraid, girl.” Ice smiled gently at the child. “Did you and the other orderlies get the tents I showed you packed up?”

She nodded then smiled. With more than a little skill she mimed leaning against a support, supervising. Ice and Mallory laughed.

“Then I suppose you had no trouble packing the gear on the horses and getting it to the sergeant, along with the note I gave you?”

The girl jerked around as she realized she had forgotten something. She quickly reached into her pouch and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Ice.

Congrats, Captain! We’ll let Callisto know to be expecting you in about two weeks. Sorry I missed the fighting. O’Shea.

“Well, that’s taken care of.” Ice stood and resheathed his sword. “Mallory, will you get the orderlies together and bring them over to the Amazons.” Ice nodded toward where the women had gathered. “I’m going to do a quick body count, make sure no one who was here got away.”

“Sure, Ice. See you over there.” Mallory rose and followed the girl to where the other children were waiting.

“Merciful Athena, thank you for our victory this day.” Ice closed his eyes as he prayed silently. “But what am I going to do with five children?”

The storyteller speaks:

Mallory had five children with her when she finally joined us, three boys and two girls. It took only a few minutes to decide that, for the time being, she and the children would stay at a village near the Amazons. We were surprised to find out that the Amazons had a brother-village, a group of men that called themselves the Comitatus., and that the two groups supported a joint village called Haven. That was our destination when we set out the next day.

Ice confirmed that the only surviving Hell-Hounds were a Sergeant O’Shea and his unit, who had been in the town and did not know of his new status as a servant of Athena. He bought us valuable time by sending that unit back to Callisto with a report that Cat and I had been captured. Little did we know that false report would almost be our undoing, once Ares realized we were still free.

But it’s been a long night, and I’m tired. Tomorrow I’ll tell you about the Amazons, and the Comitatus, and how we ended Callisto’s Reign of Blood. Goodnight.

Eight women smiled simultaneously as they watched brother and sister talking beside a cheery fire. Athena's hand moved over the scrying pool in a now familiar gesture, and the image vanished.

"Round one to us." Artemis looked at her sisters and associates. "My Amazons are rather amazing, don't you think?"

"Don't you mean our Amazons, Bow-babe?" Aphrodite tossed her head, likewise a now familiar gesture.

"The time is approaching when we will be able to assist you." Bast stood as she addressed her fellow goddesses. "One of the children is my Chosen, and Isis has seen the gift of magic in another of them."

"Granted, they are still young, but I'm sure all here realize this is not a war to be won quickly."

"Very true, Isis," Ishtar agreed. "But surely this conflict will not last long enough for those children to come into their full power?"

"No, not their full power, or at least I hope it is over before then."

"I'll be able to help, too, as soon as they get to the Amazon village." Frejya relaxed against a marble pillar. "I've got a gift for Cat, a mount to replace the one she just lost."

"Well, since I helped Mallory, that just leaves Amaterasu." Ishtar turned to look at the Japanese goddess. "Surely you will be offering more than just words of wisdom."

"Of course." Amaterasu smiled a smile that did not reach her eyes. "I have forseen a time when Cat will doubt her goodness, and Angie will not be there for her. At that time Cat will meet one of my servants, a priestess and healer, who will remind Cat that even at her darkest, the light of her soul was still visible."

"Why don't we adjourn to the Grove?" Artemis suggested. "We can eat the feast my servants have prepared, and discuss how our champions might defeat my darling brother."

"That is not difficult." All eyes turned to Athena. "They will use the blood of the Golden Hind."

"But there are no Golden Hinds," Aphrodite pointed out. "And there aren't going to be. Zeus was very firm on that point."

"There is still the small vial that Callisto hid away," Artemis pointed out. "But it is lost somewhere around the Med."

"Wrong, sister mine." Athena gestured once again, and a new image formed in the pool. The goddesses looked at what appeared to be a museum of some sort, obviously damaged during the Storm and neglected since. "An expedition unearthed one of Callisto's treasure chambers. The vial is somewhere in that museum."

"But, where is it?" Bast asked.

"And is there any chance your brother already knows about it?" Ishtar added.

"Ares couldn't sense Hind's blood if the Hind was standing in front of him," Artemis snorted.

"Which is exactly where it is, my friends." Athena smiled. "You see, Callisto was quite the traveler when she first gained her godhood. She went to some very strange places as she learned how to teleport. Being a rather intelligent woman, she realized that she could hide her possessions where no one would look for them. So she did. The vial of Hind's blood, sisters, is in the Hamill Gallery of African Art, in Boston."

Six goddesses stared at Athena as their minds processed the bombshell the Goddess of Wisdom had just dropped. Amaterasu just smiled.