Title: Larceny and the Bounty
Author: Artemis Artemis
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All the characters depicted here belong to Studios USA and Renaissance Pictures, not me. Not a single dinar has been exchanged for this story. It is just for fun.
Feedback: Please! Artemis Artemis


"No."

"Come on, Iolaus."

"I said, no. Absolutely not." Iolaus picked up his pace as he and his friends marched along the forest path, throwing up his arms in frustration as he attempted to dismiss the topic. The King of Corinth had been pestering him constantly since the moment they had stepped through the Academy gates and he was fed up with it.

"Please, Iolaus," protested Hercules, adding his own voice to Jason's persistent plea. "What could it hurt?"

The young hunter stopped in his tracks and turned to face his hopeful companions. "Oh, I don't know. My pride... my dignity... my will to live." With an exasperated sigh he whirled around again and continued his determined hike towards the local inn.

Jason rolled his eyes. Iolaus' knack for over-dramatization was almost as uncanny as his propensity for getting himself into trouble. "Give me a break," the king chastised, "it's not as bad as all that."

"Yeah," prompted Hercules with hopeful enthusiasm, "you can think of it like... a scholarship or something."

"That's right!" agreed Jason. "I'm an alumnus now and I can endow a scholarship if I feel like it. Congratulations, Iolaus, you are hereby commended as the first recipient of the annual Jason of Corinth Scholarship."

The blonde youth didn't even bother turning around. "Look, you guys," he said, "I told you, I will *not* accept charity."

"Actually, it's a scholarship," Hercules corrected.

Iolaus heaved a heavy sigh and stopped in his tracks, turning to face his friends who, caught unaware by this sudden change in pace, barely avoided running into him. "Look," he said, peering first at his companions and then at the ground as he kicked a small stone with his heavy, leather boot, "it's not as though I don't appreciate the gesture. I do. Really. It's just that... this is something I need to do on my own, okay? I've managed to cover the tuition every term so far, and I can do it again. I just need... a plan... that's all. Do you understand?"

Jason and Hercules regarded their friend dubiously. "Are you sure, Iolaus?" asked the demigod.

"As sure as I've ever been of anything."

"Well," said Jason, "in case you change your mind, the offer's always open."

"I know. Thanks," responded the young hunter with a slight smile. After a few moments of awkward silence he added, "I'll tell you what. If it'll make you feel any better I'll let you buy me lunch at Kora's... but only if I can beat you there."

"It's a deal," Jason laughed, helping himself to a head start as all three boys took off like lightning in the direction of the inn.


* * *


The woods around Kora's were unusually quiet as Iolaus, Jason, and Hercules in turn approached the gnarled, ancient tree they had established as the finish line. Admittedly, the race had never been much of a contest. The king and the former thief had conspired early on to trip the demigod and send him sliding down into a shallow gully in order to ensure their victory. With an unspoken agreement that Iolaus would "win," they took the rest of the course half-speed, joking back and forth to each other, and only sprinting the last hundred paces or so when the sound of heavy footfalls on the path behind them indicated that Hercules was catching up.

The trio didn't notice the undue stillness of their surroundings until they stood leaning against the thick, grey trunk at the finish line attempting to catch their breaths. The path the cadets always took to Kora's was generally downwind of the inn in the springtime and as they approached they were accustomed to the smell of food cooking and the muted hum of a roomful of conversations blending together in the breeze. Today, however, these elements were conspicuously absent and the breeze wafted past them cold and silent. They looked at each other with concern.

"This is *not* right," said Jason pensively, glancing up at the sky in consternation as if the gods were to blame.

Hercules knitted his brow and straightened his gauntlets, looking around suspiciously. "You're right," he agreed, "something could be terribly wrong."

"Yeah," Iolaus snorted, "like if Kora's is closed. Where in Tartarus are we going to get lunch?"

The boys approached the inn warily, expecting at any moment to be set upon by satyrs or amazons or some other undisclosed foe. Their expectations were not met, however, as they arrived at the heavy, wooden entrance without incident. As they cautiously stepped forward into the inn, the most menacing thing they encountered was Kora, looking substantially peeved.

When she caught sight of the new arrivals, Kora threw the dishtowel she had been holding over her shoulder and huffily approached them. Hands on hips, she stood directly in front of the cadets, barring further advent into the inn. "It's about time you guys got here," she snapped.

Ignoring this cheerful greeting, Jason knitted his brow. "Where is everybody?" he asked.

Kora exhaled sharply. "Why don't you go ask Miss Congeniality?" she said bitterly, indicating a solitary figure in the far corner of the room, "She's the one that frightened them away. Anyway, she's here to see you guys so just go exchange niceties and get her out of here."

"Us?" asked Hercules, puzzled. "Why would she want to see us?"

"It's obvious," announced Iolaus, straining to get a better look at their mysterious visitor, "she's clearly heard about what a mythically great lover I am."

"Mythical is right," muttered Jason. He was subsequently rewarded by a sharp punch to the shoulder.

"Seriously, though," said Hercules, his face filled with concern. "If she doesn't actually know us, why is she looking for us?"

"Yeah," Iolaus added, "are you sure it's not Strife in a dress?"

"Look!" said Kora angrily, obviously at the end of her rope. "I'm not her social secretary, okay? She just asked to see some Academy cadets and you three bozos are the first ones to walk in. Now get over there and find out what she wants so I can go back to operating a place of business."

Iolaus chuckled at her violent response. "Those mood swings are pretty brutal, eh Kora?"

The innkeeper's eyes widened, flashing furiously. "Don't test me, Iolaus," she snapped, gesturing at him threateningly with a large ladle none of the boys had even realized she was carrying. "One more comment like that and I swear by Artemis I'll..."

"We're going, we're going," interrupted Hercules, stepping blithely between the young hunter and Kora's menacing utensil. He smiled that sheepish, apologetic grin he had gotten so accustomed to using with the innkeeper and shoved Iolaus forcefully towards the table which their mysterious caller occupied. Kora narrowed her eyes and offered the boys one last, exasperated glare before stalking back into the kitchen.

The person Kora had indicated was a girl of about their age or perhaps a little older. She wore a simply styled ensemble of tall boots, brown leather pants, and a cropped, fitted top of the same material. Embedded along the trim at her waist and collar were a series of coins, dulled with age, many of which the three cadets couldn't identify. Her shoulders were bare save for the thin straps of her top, revealing a strikingly well-muscled physique, and she wore crossed belts at her waist from which hung a series of daggers of varying length. On the floor next to her were two small bags, each burdened with a short crossbow.

Sensing someone approaching, the girl turned to face the encroaching parties, presenting them with a visage that took their breath away not only by its beauty but by the melancholy it tried so hard to conceal behind a mask of haughty antagonism. Her features were sharply chiseled but their hardness was distinctly in contrast to the silken perfection of her flaxen hair as it flowed out of the fused ring of coins that secured it and cascaded down her back to just past her shoulder blades. Despite the fairness of her features, her eyes were black and it was easy to see how someone might lose himself completely in the draw of their shadowy depths. And despite her youth, there was something in her countenance to suggest that she had lived a very, very long time.

The boys stood speechless for a moment, taken aback by the icy vision of beauty which had so unexpectedly confronted them. They had, after all, expected nothing more than lunch to be awaiting them at the inn.

The girl glared at them coldly. "Can I help you?" she inquired in a tone which indicated that she would, quite frankly, rather spit on them than help them in any way.

Hercules felt someone shove him forward and he stepped forth awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Well," he said, "Kora... Kora said you wanted to speak with us."

With an ironic laugh, the girl eyed him reproachfully. "Why would I want to talk to *you*?"

"Well... it's just that... we're cadets." The demigod found himself wondering if he could get away with bolting out of the inn at top speed without looking uncool in front of his friends. This girl... the way those piercing eyes of hers seemed to look right through him... It was just... creepy.

"Actually," Jason corrected, "these two are cadets. I'm the King of Corinth." He offered her his long-practiced royal smile and nod.

"And I'm impressed," the girl replied, making a concerted effort to convey her vehement contempt. She turned her attention back to Hercules. "Are you really cadets? From Cheiron's Academy?"

The demigod raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Um... yes. Yes, we sure are." He smiled as he spoke and gestured at his companions as if to present them for her approval.

The girl snorted dismissively. "Okay," she said resignedly, "you'll do. have a seat."

"Um... thanks," said Hercules uncertainly, cautiously lowering himself onto the bench next to her. "Well. First things first.... I'm Hercules. And this is Iolaus. And that king guy is Jason." The demigod waited a few moments for a reply but none seemed forthcoming. "And you are?" he prompted.

"Nexa," she replied sharply, and turned a suspicious eye on Iolaus and Jason who had not moved from their original positions.

"Nexa..." Iolaus let the word linger on his tongue as he moved to take the seat across from her, deciding that perhaps his legendary charm might serve to melt the icy facade of their new acquaintance, "that's a beautiful name."

The statuesque blonde seemed unimpressed with this compliment. She arched an eyebrow coldly. "It means 'violent death,'" she informed him.

Iolaus' broad grin faded into a rather forced, tight-lipped smile. "Charming," he said with as much politeness as he could muster through clenched teeth and slid deftly to his left, offering Jason the seat across from Nexa with a subtle but gallant gesture and giving him a look that said, 'Okay. Now you try.'

Jason, however, was still feeling the sting of her abrupt dismissal of his prestigious title. He elected to leave the endeavor of futile flirtation to his curly-headed friend, taking his seat with an air of dignity, and regarding Nexa with a stern, business-like expression. "So," he began, deciding to take the lead in whatever negotiations they had gotten themselves into, "why, exactly, do you feel the need to seek out Academy cadets?"

Nexa's expression was stoic, but after a few moments of locking gazes with the strong-willed, young king she shifted her eyes to the wooden table, where she had been distractedly carving abstract patterns with one of her smaller daggers. "I'm looking for a partner," she said, admitting the fact with an almost shameful air as if it were an act meriting reproach.

Jason looked at Hercules with inquiring eyes, but the demigod just shrugged. Iolaus rolled his eyes and cast the girl a dubious glance. The king decided to try from some clarification. "A partner for what?"

"Oh, sorry," replied Nexa, shaking her head as if suddenly regaining consciousness and momentarily dropping her glacial demeanor. "I'm a bounty hunter."

The boys exchanged expressions of wide-eyed astonishment. How could a girl of their age have found her way into such a brutal and dangerous profession? Impossible as it seemed, however, at least it provided a viable explaination for her distant manner and the almost tragic sense of history betrayed so unwillingly by her features.

The bounty hunter, having recovered from the momentary lapse, resumed her curt demeanor and continued. "Basically, I'm hot on the trail of the biggest bounty in Greece: a crime lord named Revilius. The problem is that he hides out in a heavily guarded fortress just outside of Oeniadea which is said to be impenetrable. After hearing about what happened to the last five bounty hunters that went after him, I'm pretty confident the stories are true... for the individual. With a decent partner, however, I'm positive I will be able to break in." She leaned in closer, lowering her voice secretively despite the fact that the inn was devoid of anyone who might overhear. "I'm offering a fifty-fifty split on the bounty if I find someone I consider worthy of the job."

Hercules knitted his brow in puzzlement. "Well why don't you team up with some other bounty hunter?" Something about this girl seemed highly suspicious and the shiftiness of her demeanor only served to cement the demigod's mistrust.

Nexa emitted a short, bitter laugh. "You haven't spent much time with bounty hunters, have you? I wouldn't trust one as far as I could throw this inn. That's why I decided to try the Academy - I hear you guys have some sort of honor code or something, so I know you won't go double-crossing me. You might not have the exact skills I'm after but you're loyal and you can fight, and that's good enough for me. It's certainly better than getting stabbed in the back." The bounty hunter curled her lip into a disgusted sneer, evidently distracted by some painful memory. Seeming to draw completely into her own thoughts, she spent a moment admiring the dagger she had been toying with and then plunged it forcefully into the table top.

Noticing the startled, wary expressions of her three companions, Nexa pushed the distasteful thoughts of the past to the back of her mind and continued. "Now what I *really* need is a thief. Unfortunately, bounty hunters and the criminal element don't exactly maintain a happy coexistence, you know? Besides, the trouble with thieves is that they're even less trustworthy than bounty hunters. And *that's* really saying something."

Jason and Hercules shot Iolaus a concerned look. While he would never admit it, they knew the former thief was pretty sensitive about his criminal past. Iolaus sat staring at nothing in particular, resting his chin pensively on his fist. Suddenly aware that he was being watched he looked up and offered his friends a warm smile, deliberately avoiding Nexa's disdainful gaze.

"Why don't I go get us something to drink," he said solemnly. Rising from the table, he went to find Kora in the back.

Nexa snorted reproachfully in his direction as he departed. "What's with him?" she asked.

Jason sighed and looked expectantly at the demigod, leaving it to him to explain.

"Well," said Hercules tentatively, "it's just that... Iolaus used to be a thief."

Nexa's unwaveringly stoic countenance flickered with surprise for a moment. "Really?" she said, looking back to where Iolaus had disappeared into the kitchen, "And you trust him?"

"With our lives," responded Jason earnestly, "I don't think there's anyone we'd rather have watching our backs."

Nexa looked to the demigod for confirmation.

"Absolutely," Hercules assured her, "Iolaus is a great warrior and a loyal friend."

"And a thief," added Nexa.

"A *former* thief."

"Whatever," said the bounty hunter with a shrug. "He sounds perfect. All right, he's in."

"Woah, woah... Now just hold on," objected the demigod, leaning away from Nexa and holding up a palm in protest, "Iolaus isn't interested in your little proposition."

"That's right," agreed Jason. "He's put his days as a thief behind him now."

Nexa rolled her eyes. "Look, you two, it's not like I'm asking him to be a criminal. We might step around the rules sometimes, but bounty hunters are *good guys* if you haven't noticed. You say your friend is a warrior, a hero? Well I can't think of anything more heroic than making sure a piece of scum like Revilius answers for his crimes. Besides, what are you? His mothers? Let him decide for himself."

"Let who decide what?" Iolaus had just returned to the table with a pitcher of water and four mugs.

"That would be you," Nexa informed him, offering for the first time a genuine albeit slightly mischievous smile. "How'd you like to be my partner? There's good money in it. Especially for only a couple of days' work."

Iolaus set the pitcher and mugs on the table and straightened his vest. He raised his eyebrows thoughtfully and took a deep breath. "I'm in," he said at last with a nod and a frank shrug.

"Good," replied Nexa approvingly. She rose and with a swift motion, removed her dagger from where she had embedded it in the table, replacing it in her belt. "I've got all the supplies we need, so we can leave immediately. Let's get going."

"Wait!" cried Hercules, leaping up in protest, "Iolaus, think for a second about what you're doing."

"Yeah," offered Jason, "consider all you've accomplished at the Academy. Do you really want to just throw it all away?"

Iolaus stepped back from the table and folded his arms, glaring at his friends admonishingly. "I'm not throwing anything away," he insisted, "this is a one shot deal. Besides, it's only for a couple of days."

"And don't forget," the bounty hunter prompted as she hoisted one of the packs over her shoulder and handed the other to Iolaus, "there's a thousand dinars in it for him if we succeed."

"A *thousand* dinars?" gaped the young hunter. "Oh, yeah. I'm *definitely* in."

"Okay..." said Hercules, desperately trying to think of some way to prevent this partnership, "and what if you fail?"

Nexa rolled her eyes and glared sourly at the demigod. "Well, I hear cruises down the Styx are really charming this time of year. Being a bounty hunter isn't *all* fun and dinars, you know. Come on, Iolaus, let's get going." The bounty hunter turned abruptly and made her way to the door.

Iolaus looked at his friends and shrugged sheepishly. "You heard the lady," he said and turned to follow her.

"Wait," Hercules implored, his voice tinged with enough insistence to arrest his friend's departure, "Iolaus, are you really sure about this?"

"This isn't a game," added Jason. "If you get caught you could go to jail... or even worse."

The young hunter sighed. "I know you're worried, guys, but you know the drill: if I don't come up with my tuition it's the lock-up for me anyway. And, frankly, if I'm going to prison, I'd rather do it with a purpose than wind up there as another statistic in Feducius' balance ledger."

Hercules put a frustrated hand to his forehead and Jason sighed resignedly. There really was no arguing with Iolaus when he got his mind set on something.

"Look," said Iolaus with a broad, confident smile, hoping to alleviate at least some of his companions' concern, "you've got nothing to worry about. We'll head over to Oeniadea, grab this slob Revilius and be done with it. I'll be back here in no time with my pockets full of dinars, regaling you with steamy tales of lusty evenings by the campfire." He raised his eyebrows and flashed his friends a lascivious grin.

At the young hunter's most recent statement, a dagger came tearing through the air from the doorway behind him, barely missing his head, and lodged itself into the far wall. Iolaus didn't flinch at this near miss. He simply stepped forward and deftly retrieved the dagger. "Oh, Nexa?" he called as she retreated through the doorway, "I believe you've forgotten your knife." Dagger in hand, he turned to offer his friends a final, encouraging wink before following his new partner outside.

The demigod sighed and looked down at the table as he traced the patterns Nexa had carved with his finger. "He doesn't even *have* pockets," he muttered.

"It's a figure of speech," Jason informed him.

Hercules looked back up at the entrance to the inn, hoping that Iolaus would change his mind and come sallying back through the door. After several moments, however, he regretfully accepted that his hope was not going to be fulfilled and turned to address the king, who seemed lost in his own thoughts. "Jason," he said, biting his lower lip in worry, "are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Jason knitted his brow and nodded soberly. "Yeah..." he said, "let's have lunch."

Not believing his companion's uncaring nonchalance, the demigod gaped in astonishment. "No, no," he corrected, "I mean, I think we should follow Iolaus to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Jason looked at Hercules with a reproachful frown. "Of *course* we're going to follow Iolaus to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," he said condescendingly. "*I'm* just saying I think we should have lunch first."

"Oh," responded Hercules, nodding with a mixture of confusion and relief, "Okay."

"It's settled then," declared Jason, patting the demigod on the shoulder and offering a reassuring smile. "Directly after lunch, we set out for Oeniadea."


* * *


"...so then the bartender says, 'That's no satyr! It's just a traveling merchant with a goat down his pants!'" Iolaus' hearty laugh rapidly faded under the reproving glare of his companion who, apparently, had not gotten the joke. Nexa rolled her eyes irritably and sighed, picking up her pace despite the rough terrain. In order to avoid detection by Revilius' spies, they had chosen to eschew the main roads and selected a more circuitous route through the bush. The journey would take them somewhat longer, but as an upshot they were guaranteed to arrive at Revilius' fortress unforeseen.

"Wow," mumbled Iolaus as he hastened to catch up with his partner, scrambling over the thick trunk of a fallen tree, "tough crowd. That was my best satyr joke."

"Enough," spat Nexa as she whirled around to face the young hunter. This was practically the first time she had spoken since they left the inn and the suddenness of her words startled Iolaus to the degree that he instinctually flattened himself against a nearby tree. The bounty hunter stalked towards him, raven eyes flashing, and seized the front of his vest. "Will you lay off the comedy routine? I invited you along because you're a thief, not a jester."

Iolaus met her fierce gaze unwaveringly and gently reached up to remove her hands from his person. "Look," he said, straightening his vest, "first of all, I'm not a thief. You will kindly refer to me as a Personal Property Extraction Expert. And second, that joke is *way* funnier than anything I've ever heard come out of a jester."

Nexa regarded Iolaus searchingly for a moment, surprised by the calm determination of his response. He seemed wholly unfazed by her aggressive demeanor and it was not a reaction she was accustomed to. In fact, he was one of the first people she had ever encountered that did not seem terrified of her and, much to her astonishment, the young bounty hunter found it a refreshing change. That did not mean, however, that she had any intent on going easy on him.

"Listen," she barked, making a concerted effort not to divulge her latent sympathy, "can't you just shut up for a while? We've got a long journey ahead of us and I'm pretty sure it's a bad sign that I already want to kill you."

"No," responded Iolaus earnestly. "No I can't." The former thief took a few steps forward, refusing to break eye contact, and Nexa actually found herself backing away. "I don't know what your journeys are usually like, but this one has been so uneventful that I'm ready to scream. We've been traveling for hours now and haven't been attacked by any gods, monsters, Amazons or Bacchae. We haven't even seen a lousy bandit! Not one! Do you know how boring that is?"

Nexa was about to inquire about how many times he was *usually* attacked by monsters over the course of a day's journey but Iolaus cut her off before she got the chance.

"Mind you," he continued, "it's not as if I particularly object to an uneventful journey if I at least have someone to talk to but, let me tell you, you are the *worst* traveling companion I have *ever* had. And that includes Orpheus. I know you bounty hunters are supposedly the 'good guys' and all, but at least all the criminals I used to hang out with were decent conversationalists. Gods, I wish you *would* try to kill me. At least that would make this trip tolerably interesting."

With this definitive statement Iolaus tucked his hair back and haughtily resumed his march through the woods, squeezing himself between two closely spaced trees and leaping over a boulder. Nexa stood for a moment gazing curiously at his retreating figure. For the first time in her life she had actually been stunned into involuntary silence. After a few moments she regained her composure and hastened to catch up with her partner, taking solace in the fact that while she had taken a few verbal punches, perhaps his irritation with her would at least keep him quiet for a while.

The bounty hunter caught up to Iolaus at the next bend in the path and after clambering over a few more heavy boulders, they found that the terrain eased up somewhat. A few hundred paces further on, the trail broadened and provided little to obstruct their rapid progress. The pair walked in silence for several minutes and Nexa found herself feeling quite satisfied with their new traveling arrangement.

It was not long, however, before this contentment was disrupted by a bright, friendly voice. "So, tell me," said Iolaus with an affable grin, "which is *your* favorite Muse?"

Nexa gaped at the young hunter and, shaking her head in astonishment, upped her speed to a quick jog. Would *nothing* keep this boy quiet?

"Okay, okay," Iolaus conceded, immediately matching her pace, "you're not much for the Muses, I can tell... You're more of a Fury woman. So which is your favorite Fury?"

Cursing herself for her choice in partners, Nexa just kept running, hoping that the young man next to her would eventually get sick of hearing himself talk.

"No really," he urged, "you can tell me. I promise I won't say a word to the other Furies..."

With a sigh, the bounty hunter found herself wondering whether a thousand dinars was actually *worth* this kind of aggravation,


* * *


"You know, Hercules," said Jason, sighing thoughtfully as he extracted a large pebble from the constricting leather of his boot, "sometimes I wonder if this is all worth it."

The demigod left off staring impatiently down the road ahead of them and regarded his friend with a look of wounded surprise. "Jason!" he admonished, "Of course it's worth it. Iolaus is our friend and he'd do the same for us!"

Jason knitted his brow, blinking in momentary confusion before he realized his companion's misapprehension. "No," he assured him, "I'm not talking about Iolaus. I'm talking about *this*. Me." He stood up and attempted to brush himself off. It had been a dry spring and the roads were powdered with dust which clung tenaciously to his pants and boots, seeming to have a particular affinity for Corinthian leather. He looked to Hercules for sympathy but the demigod didn't even acknowledge his most recent statement.

"Can we just get going," Hercules pleaded, biting his lip with concern as he anxiously scanned the horizon for other travelers. He inched forward, stirring up small billows of dirt with his heavy boots, and peered searchingly through the hazy atmosphere, still thick with the dust that hung in the air from the last wagon that had passed. "Come on, we can walk and talk. I think I see something." The young demigod plodded forward purposefully.

Jason finished dusting himself off and rolled his eyes, trotting to catch up with his companion. Hercules was always a little tough to deal with when he was worried about Iolaus, but he'd never seen him quite *this* ill at ease before. "You okay, Herc?" he asked once he had drawn level with his friend.

"Fine, fine," responded the demigod dismissively, accelerating into a brisk walk. Then, glancing over at Jason's concerned expression, he suddenly realized how distracted he had been acting. "Sorry," he offered with an apologetic smile, "It's just that... well, you know how I get. I'm worried, that's all. Now what were you saying? Something isn't worth something else? Care to be more specific?"

"Well," Jason began hesitantly, "it's just this. Me. Being king. It's pretty much a pain when you get right down to it."

Hercules raised his eyebrows. "Funny. Doesn't look so bad to me. Here you are: open road, clear, blue sky, not a kingly duty to be found."

Jason laughed soberly. "That's exactly the problem... I really shouldn't be here. It took me *months* to get Ophistus to let me visit you guys at the Academy. If he had any idea I'd wind up gallivanting off to save Iolaus from being chopped into tiny pieces by some Evil Crime Lord, he would have locked me up in the Corinthian dungeon for my own protection."

At the mention of his best friend, Hercules' brow furrowed in consternation. "I'm not as concerned about Revilius as I am about that bounty hunter. I've got a feeling that that girl is trouble." Having momentarily slowed his pace to a reasonable walking speed, the demigod picked it up again.

"Of *course* she's trouble," responded Jason with a tired sigh, resigning himself to the fact that it would be impossible to discuss his royal frustrations while Hercules was in this mood. "She'd be a pretty pathetic bounty hunter if she weren't."

"No, but I mean trouble for Iolaus." Hercules turned to face Jason, who had refused to keep pace with his most recent speed change. Walking backwards, he addressed his friend plaintively, "Didn't she seem a little... creepy to you?"

"No," said the young king definitively, refusing to acknowledge Hercules' obvious desire for him to speed up, "she seemed like a bounty hunter."

Hercules snorted dubiously. "Humph. How would *you* know? Besides, don't you think that...?"

"No. Give it up, Hercules. I think you're just jealous because for once *Iolaus* might get the girl."

The demigod sighed and faced forwards again, shading his eyes against the sun. As far as he could see, the road was utterly deserted. "Maybe we should try to hitch a ride on the next wagon that comes along," he suggested hopefully.

"A wagon." Jason's tone was flat. He had known Hercules far too long to be surprised.

"Yeah."

"You want to get a ride on a wagon." Jason stopped walking and folded his arms, regarding Hercules with a dubious, disciplinary expression.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"Hercules, are you already forgetting about the wagon that dropped us off just now?"

"Well, it wasn't *just* now..." The demigod kicked at a small stone, stirring up yet another cloud of dust which migrated to hover predatorily over the brushed leather of Jason's boots.

"It was just now. Remember how the farmer threw us *out* of his wagon because you were so nervous you wouldn't sit still?"

Hercules feigned wounded astonishment. "I wasn't *that* bad..." he protested innocently, "I..."

"His chickens were terrified."

Emitting a defeated sigh, Hercules returned his gaze to the road. "Maybe we should run," he said.

"We are *not* running," announced Jason firmly. "Look, what's your hurry anyway?"

"Are you kidding?!" the demigod exclaimed, not bothering to check the rising panic in his voice. "We've been on the road all day with no sign of Iolaus or that bounty hunter. Given the distance we gained on the wagon, we should have caught up with them hours ago! I knew we shouldn't have had lunch. Iolaus is probably lying mangled in a ditch somewhere."

"Now just calm down," said Jason sharply. He wasn't particularly in the mood for smacking some sanity into his semi-divine companion, but he would if he had to. "I'm sure Iolaus is fine."

"Well if that's true then why haven't we seen him yet?"

"Think, Hercules. He and Nexa would never have taken this road."

"What?!" Hercules gaped at his friend incredulously. "They didn't come this way?!"

"Of course not. Any halfway decent bounty hunter would know better than to take the main road on the way to pick up a big-wig like Revilius. That guy's probably got spies from Oeniadea to Athens."

Hercules ran a hand down his face in frustration. "They didn't come this way," he repeated, letting the concept slowly sink in. After a moment, he took a deep breath and spoke. "Jason," he said calmly, "apparently there is an important aspect of the plan, 'let's follow them,' which has escaped your attention. You know, the 'following them' part?"

"Will you relax? They're probably traveling through the woods. We could never have caught up with them. With your sense of direction, we would probably have wound up in Crete."

"Crete's an island," the demigod protested.

"That's my point," responded Jason earnestly. "Besides, this way we'll get to Oeniadea way ahead of them. We'll get the info on Revilius and be conveniently on hand to help them out if they get in a jam."

Hercules folded his arms and pouted slightly. He knew Jason was right, but he couldn't bear standing idly by while his friend might be in danger. "But what about the bounty hunter?" he insisted. "What if she... I don't know... stabs him in the back or something? Ever since the business with Lucius, I can't help being a little wary of strangers out for vigilante justice."

The young king sighed, wondering why all of his friends had to be so stubborn. He approached Hercules and, gripping him firmly by the shoulders, looked directly into his eyes. "First of all, Lucius was a tool. Secondly, you're just being paranoid. I'm telling you, Iolaus will be fine. Nexa wouldn't have come to us if she didn't need help with the Revilius job. Without Iolaus, she can't get her money. So even if she *does* have dire intentions towards our hard-headed buddy she won't act on them until *after* they've collected the cash. She is a bounty hunter, after all." Jason released the demigod and, brushing away some more dust which had gathered on his vest, continued walking at a reasonable pace. After a few moments, he realized his companion had not joined him. Looking back, he saw Hercules standing with his hands on his hips looking contemplatively at the ground.

"Come on," said Jason, walking back to where his friend stood and giving him a reassuring slap on the back. "Everything we'll be fine. Look, let's catch the next wagon that comes along. We'll reach Oeniadea by nightfall and while Iolaus and Nexa are sleeping out here with the bugs and rocks, we'll be snoozing peacefully in a nice cozy inn. My treat. Whaddya say?"

Hercules shrugged and with a slight smile acquiesced. Jason was right on every count. He hated it when Jason was right. The demigod decided he would go along with Jason's plan but, by Tartarus, he didn't have to like it.

"Good," said Jason brightly. "Now take a deep, cleansing breath. I think I hear a wagon coming. Are you going to be able to act normal or do I tell them you've got some kind of mental illness?"

Looking down at his foot, Hercules saw that it had been tapping impatiently without his knowledge. He looked earnestly back at the young king and sighed. "I think you'd better go with the mental illness thing," he said.


* * *


"This looks like a good spot," Nexa announced abruptly as they emerged into a small but habitable looking clearing. She flung her pack against a rock at the periphery and examined the area with an approving nod. "Ground's level. No hydras. Good enough for me."

"Awww... but you promised me a clearing with hydras," bated Iolaus as he crossed to the opposite side of the campsite. With a mocking pout, he lifted up a large, flat rock and peered at the ground as if a very *small* hydra might be hiding beneath. With a disappointed shrug, he returned the rock and lay his own pack gently against it. He busied himself making a small fire in the center of camp and Nexa brought over an armful of dried branches to use as additional timber.

"Thanks," he said, looking up at her with a smile. "You know, you're not so bad when you're not ignoring, criticizing, or yelling at me. Oh, or plotting my death. I hate it when you do *that*."

"I bet," responded the bounty hunter coldly, "but I wouldn't get used to it if I were you."

"Oh fear not," Iolaus assured her, "I know you'll be back to your usual planning-to-slaughter-me-in-my-sleep in no time."

"Well, at least you've got a good perspective on things," Nexa replied. She offered a short, quiet laugh but no smile accompanied it. The bounty hunter rifled through her pack and removed a small, threadbare blanket. "Here, take this," she said, tossing the blanket to Iolaus and drawing out a second one for herself. "We need to get an early start tomorrow if we want to arrive at Revilius' fortress before nightfall. Rumor has it that dusk is when the castle is least heavily guarded." She spread out her blanket and lay down, turning her back to Iolaus and the fire.

Iolaus regarded his traveling companion with a wounded expression as the reflected firelight flashed red and gold in the silken folds of her hair. With a slight pout, he huffed in indignation. "What, you mean that's it? Just 'Good night, Iolaus,' and you roll over and go to sleep? Some partner you are."

"I didn't wish you a good night," came the quiet response. "Now go to sleep."

The young hunter sighed. "Fine then," he said, unrolling his blanket and smoothing it against the ground with exaggerated fastidiousness, "be like that. But don't expect to hear any more of my world famous satyr jokes." With a sigh, he reclined on the blanket, hands behind his head, and looked up at the night sky.

Nexa rolled over to face him, honestly perplexed by his offended tone. "Well what did you *expect*, Iolaus? A good night kiss?"

Iolaus raised his eyebrows and rolled over onto his side, looking past the waning flames of the campfire into the eyes of the beautiful bounty hunter. "No thanks," he said, holding up one hand in protest, "I'd rather not have my lips frozen, thank you very much."

"Well what then?"

Iolaus narrowed his eyes and peered at Nexa whose countenance, he was surprised to discover, was genuinely curious. "Oh, I don't know," he said with a quiet sigh. "It's just that when Herc and I go camping we always spend some time just gazing up at the stars and talking. I guess it's just habit."

"This isn't a leisure trip, you know," Nexa said, her tone sounding much sharper than she had intended.

With a mirthless laugh, Iolaus returned to his back. "I know," he said. "Believe me, I know. Look, just forget I said anything." He closed his eyes and made a concerted effort to force himself into sleep. After a few minutes of silence and failed slumber, he heard a faint rustling from across the campsite.

"Hey, Iolaus," came Nexa's suspiciously playful voice, "you can talk to this if you want to..."

The young hunter opened his eyes and was horrified to see an enormous spider hurtling through the air towards him. He inhaled sharply and rolled hastily away from his blanket, drawing a dagger from his boot as he did so. The spider landed exactly where his head had been, and with a quick, over-arm motion, he skewered it with his knife before it could come any closer.

"What in Tartarus were you thinking?!" demanded Iolaus, holding up the knife and grimacing at the spider, whose hairy legs still twitched convulsively. "Don't you know these things are poisonous?" He glared furiously over at Nexa, who was chuckling softly to herself.

"Oh, come on," she said, with a wry smile, "if you can't handle a little spider, we're in big trouble against Revilius. Besides, you're the one who wanted a hydra."

"Sure, a hydra is no problem," responded Iolaus, shaking the knife, complete with impaled spider, menacingly at the bounty hunter, "but this thing's bigger than my head! Look at it!" He regarded the creature with a slight shudder and wrinkled up his nose. With a quick flick of the wrist, he flung the carcass off of his knife and into the darkened woods. "Do me a favor," he said, dropping peremptorily back onto his blanket and closing his eyes, "make sure I don't step on that thing tomorrow morning."

"Whatever you say, partner," said Nexa, "but just so you know, you just threw out what would have been our breakfast." The bounty hunter covered her mouth to stifle a laugh when Iolaus, who had turned his back on the flickering light of the clearing, shuddered in disgust. She smiled warmly at her partner before returning to her own blanket and drifting off to sleep.


* * *


From his perch amongst the branches of a lofty tree which provided an excellent prospect of the local inn and the well-traveled road which stretched without a bend for several hundred paces on either side, a tall, dark youth sat nimbly rolling a coin along the top of his knuckles and surveying the goings-on below. He was bored. Bored, bored, bored. The road, which was usually thronging with people by dawn, had been suspiciously quiet the whole morning and the youth had yet to see anyone that even came close to meeting his basic requirements.

Suddenly, the young man perked up, raising his eyebrows with interest as his sharp ears detected the faint creak of a door opening. He immediately turned his gaze to the door of the inn and, sure enough, two boys of about his own age emerged, chatting amiably to each other. "Finally," he said, flipping the coin he had been toying with into the air with his middle knuckle and catching it in his left hand with exaggerated relish, "here comes lunch."

Keeping to the treetops, he followed the boys as they walked leisurely towards town. The shorter, darker of the two was dressed in expensive leathers and carried himself with a bold dignity very rare among those of his years. "The skinny blonde must be his lackey," mused the dark youth, struck by the contrast of the taller boy's casual, unassuming gait.

Silently casting his grappling hook into the next available tree, the youth smiled faintly to himself. "You know it really isn't fair, me taking their money," he murmured, gazing at the objects of his pursuit with melodramatic sympathy. "The poor, unsuspecting lads will probably never know what hit them." Straightening his legs, he pushed backwards off of one sturdy branch and landed blithely on another. "Ah well," he said with a shrug, "you don't get to wear leathers like that unless you can afford to lose a dinar or two. Besides, it'll teach them a lesson. They should be more careful."

Stepping back to prepare for his next leap, the hidden thief snapped a small twig with is boot. 'Damned dry season,' he thought, looking disdainfully at the broken twig and rearranging his grip on the rope. Before he could swing, however, he noticed that his impending victims had stopped walking. The lanky blonde had motioned for his companion to be quiet and now stood peering suspiciously into the row of trees which lined the road. The dark youth flattened himself against the tree trunk and held his position, not breathing until the moment of danger had passed and the boys resumed their journey.

"Paranoid much, kid?" he muttered as he swung forward into the next conveniently placed tree. The thief paused for a moment and wondered why he was even bothering with the two boys. He had bigger fish to fry later in the day and if everything went his way, he would be going to sleep that night one diamond and one ruby richer. "Still," he reminded himself, "even the Prince of Thieves has got to eat." His hand went instinctually to his money pouch which, at the moment, was pathetically light, even for him.

As the two boys gradually approached a sharp bend in the road, the thief came to a decision. "Past that turn," he said, "that's where I'll take 'em. It will be a good warm-up for tonight." He hastened through the trees, hoping to get past them before they actually made the turn so that he could reconfirm his trajectory. He had found that he had to pick *just* the right angle if he wanted to swoop through and liberate the tender from his targets without being detected and he wanted this job to go *perfectly*. It would give him added confidence for the bigger endeavor that lay ahead.

However, before he could begin the merciless assault upon his unsuspecting victims, the thief was distracted by the sounds of battle down the road. As he swung through the bend, the source of the noise became patently obvious. A few dozen paces further on stood a well-dressed young man, perhaps midway through his twenties, with determined features and hair the color of platinum. He was surrounded by upwards of twenty five thugs of every shape and size, all armed to the teeth and ugly as Tartarus. "Hello... what's this?" mused the thief and, keeping to the cover of the treetops, swung in for a closer look.

"That's odd," he whispered, eyes widening as the white-haired youth threw back a particularly large and unseemly ruffian, "what's *he* doing here?" The thug leapt up with surprising agility and ran towards the younger man, striking him sharply in the stomach with his head. "The daily exercises in assaulting unwary strangers must have started earlier than usual today. Go figure. Well, at least that explains why the road was so empty... except for those two kids, that is... Oh, Tartarus. Those poor saps are *dead*."

He would never admit it, even to himself, but the thief felt his heart sink somewhat as he looked back to see the two boys he had been tailing make their way around the bend. They were his age, after all, and didn't deserve to get ripped to shreds by these barbarians any more than he did. Well, maybe a *little* more than he did, but not much. When the boys caught sight of the battle they exchanged a quick look and, much to the surprise of the dark youth that surveyed the scene, leapt boldly into the fray. They exchanged a hurried greeting with the youthful target of the attack and turned to stand back to back in the middle of the fight, effortlessly fending off the thugs as they attacked and thinning out their numbers with astonishing efficiency.

"Whoa. These two are not *quite* as pathetic as I thought," murmured the thief, raising his eyebrows in amazement as the lanky blonde he had been so quick to dismiss earlier hurled one of the assailants into a second with such force that both were sent hurtling into a nearby tree. "Ouch," he added, wincing as the huge tree cracked under the impact and toppled heavily to the ground, trapping both men beneath it. "That's got to hurt. I think it's time to take my exit cue before that kid knocks down the rest of my escape route."

Grappling hook in hand, the thief made an expeditious but silent retreat, allowing himself to pause only when he was safely around the nearest bend and the clamor of the skirmish had faded into the distance. "Boy, Autolycus," he said, shaking his head in disbelief, "you can sure pick 'em. *Now* who's going to by you lunch?" With a resigned sigh, the Prince of Thieves patted his empty money pouch and swung back towards his lofty perch above the inn.


* * *


Jason had been absolutely right. After a good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast, Hercules stepped through the threshold of the inn and onto the dusty road feeling perfectly refreshed. His myriad fears from the previous day had been allayed after a good deal of coaxing from the young king and now as he stretched his arms contentedly and stood blinking in the bright morning sun, he felt reasonably confident that no depraved bounty hunters had attempted to murder his best friend by means of, say, a large, hairy spider over the course of the night. Hercules felt good. So good, in fact, that not only was he willing to admit that Jason had been right, he even informed him as such.

Jason laughed cheerfully at his friend's admission. "See?" he said, elbowing the demigod playfully. "What did I tell you? You should really learn to listen to Your King."

"Yeah, yeah," Hercules responded, rolling his eyes and giving His King the good shove he deserved. "So, Your Highness, since you're such a master strategist why don't you fill me in on our plan."

"That's easy," said Jason with a bright smile, "first we make inquiries. You know, make friends with some of the locals and get all the info on Revilius: find out where he lives, how many guards he has, that sort of thing."

"Sounds reasonable so far," Hercules said, punctuating the compliment with another friendly shove. "It's nice to know that *somebody* besides me can come up with a plan once in a while."

"Hey, be fair, Hercules," Jason reprimanded. "Iolaus comes up with plans all the time."

The demigod rolled his eyes. "I mean a *good* plan. One in which we're in less trouble at the end than we were at the beginning."

"Oh. One of *those* plans," responded Jason, shaking his head soberly. "No, I'm pretty sure Iolaus has yet to come up with one like that."

"Speaking of not coming up with plans," smirked Hercules, raising his eyebrows in mock reproach, "are you going to finish telling me your little scheme or does chatting with the locals constitute the entirety of your cunning strategy?"

"Okay, okay," said Jason, looking askance at Hercules out of the corner of his eye. "A little demanding this morning, aren't we? I think I liked you better when you were a nervous wreck."

"Ha, ha. Let's hear the plan."

The king shrugged. "It's pretty simple, actually. All we have to do once we have all the information on Revilius is head over to his fortress and stake it out. If he leaves we follow him, if he goes inside we watch the guards at the front for any sign of trouble inside. If those guards leave their posts, it means that Iolaus and Nexa have probably already broken in."

Hercules regarded his companion dubiously. "So we just assume they're inside and go charging in after them? I don't know if that's such a good idea..."

"Why not?" Jason replied casually. "I mean, it's not like anyone *else* will be breaking into Revilius' fortress today..."

Jason's response was cut short by a sharp hiss from the demigod who now stood peering into the line of trees at the side of the road.

"What is it?" whispered the king, trying to follow Hercules' gaze but failing to ascertain exactly what he was looking at.

"Not sure," Hercules responded, shading his eyes from the sun and trying to determine whether a perceived motion was created by an actual object or merely the interplay of light, shadow, and the morning breeze as it wafted through the foliage. "Thought I heard something. Thought I saw something."

Jason shrugged dismissively. "It's probably nothing," he said. "Probably just your neurotic paranoia kicking in again."

"Maybe," responded the demigod with a frown. Reluctantly, he turned his gaze away from the trees and returned his attention to the matter at hand. "Look, Jason, I'm not so sure about this plan of yours. I mean, can't we just catch up with Iolaus *before* he goes after Revilius?"

"I seriously doubt it," said Jason, shaking his head sternly. "Good bounty hunters never leave their cover until they have their target in sight. Iolaus and Nexa probably won't even leave the woods until they're ready to strike."

The demigod sighed. "If you say so. When did you get to be such an expert on bounty hunters, anyway?"

"Hey. I'm king. It's part of the job."

"No, seriously."

"I *am* being serious," said Jason earnestly. "I've had to hire a bounty hunter or two in my time."

"You? I can't believe it." Hercules gaped at his companion in astonishment. "Jason, how could you do that? You know what bounty hunters are like: cruel, ruthless, underhanded... Most of them are worse than the criminals you send them after."

"Don't lecture me, Hercules," Jason snapped. "I know perfectly well what bounty hunters are like and I'd rather not use them if I didn't have to but there are just some things a kingdom's police force can't get done. Believe it or not, politics is not all about banquets and idealism. Being a good leader is about compromise. Sometimes you have to compromise with a warring kingdom for the sake of peace, sometimes you have to compromise your traditions for the sake of diplomacy, and sometimes, just sometimes, you have to compromise you ideals for the sake of your people."

The demigod frowned. "So in the name of compromise, you give up the things you believe in? Are you really willing to make that kind of a choice?"

"It's not about choice," responded Jason with a heavy sigh. "When I became king, I lost the freedom to *make* that choice. I can't go selfishly putting my own needs ahead of those of my people, even in the name of idealism. That's just not in the rules of the game. And I have no doubt that over the course of my reign I'll have to do things a lot more distasteful than hire bounty hunters, but there's not much I can do about it. It's the ugly side of politics. "

"Wow," said Hercules softly, "I'm sorry, Jason. I guess I never realized..."

"Forget it," Jason interrupted, waving away the apology dismissively. "I'll get used to it - it comes with the crown. It's just been a big adjustment, that's all. You know, I really envy you sometimes... you and Iolaus... because you still have the freedom to make a difference in your *own* way, without being hampered by convention and diplomacy. You should take advantage of that freedom, Hercules. It's one of your greatest assets."

The demigod nodded solemnly and directed his gaze at the ground. The pair walked for a few minutes without speaking, each immersed in his own thoughts. Eventually Hercules, discomfited by the awkward silence, decided to address a new topic.

"So..." he began quietly, "what do you think this Revilius guy looks like?"

Jason smiled faintly, immensely grateful for the change in subject. "That's an easy one," he said with a laugh, "he's a crime lord named Revilius. What do you *think* he looks like?"

"Ugly," volunteered Hercules, nodding his head knowingly.

"Yeah," Jason agreed, "and fat. With a name like that, the man must be *enormous*."

"Revilius *can't* be his real name, can it?"

"No way. That's just not the kind of name you inflict on a baby. I bet it was something boring, like Marcus or something, and then he changed it to make himself sound more sinister. Probably after he reached a certain weight."

"I bet he wears lots of jewelry," the demigod mused.

"Definitely," said Jason, nodding in approval. "He probably wears a whole boar's head around his neck."

The boys smiled at each other and laughed heartily at the hideous image they had concocted, the sobriety of their earlier discussion left by the wayside. They traded punches amiably as they rounded a sharp bend in the road but stopped short when they caught sight of a fracas up ahead. A few dozen burly thugs were assailing a solitary man in the center of the road and while he was somehow managing to keep them at bay, it didn't look like he could hold out much longer. Exchanging glances and a quick nod, Jason and Hercules sprinted towards the brawl and quickly worked their way into the middle.

"Hi," said Hercules in response to the young man's puzzled look. "We're new in town." Flashing a brilliant smile, he back-fisted an oncoming marauder, sending him flying. The demigod's new ally smiled in return, nodding in approval before turning to face the new wave of attackers.

Fighting back to back, it didn't take the trio long to dispatch enough of the thugs that the rest decided to cut their losses and retreat. Once the battle had dissipated, the young man turned to Hercules and Jason with a grateful smile and offered them each a warrior's handshake in turn.

"Many thanks," he said with an exhale of relief. "I think I could have taken them eventually, but the help is very much appreciated."

"Anytime," Hercules grinned. "We were pretty impressed with the way you were holding them all off. You fight really well."

"Thanks," responded the stranger with a modest shrug,. "I try to stay in good fighting shape. Just another pastime of the idle rich. So you're new in town, eh? What brings you to Oeniadea?"

"We're looking for a friend."

"That's right," said Jason. "You don't happen to know where a guy named Revilius lives, do you?"

The young man's expression grew darker. "Revilius? If he's a friend of yours, you sure keep dangerous company."

"No, we don't know Revilius," Hercules assured him. "We're just trying to keep our friend from going after him and getting himself killed."

"Aha," the stranger replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "a prudent course of action. I hear Revilius can be really brutal. Those were *his* men we fought off just now and I know for a fact that they're under strict orders to tear anyone that crosses him limb from limb. Unfortunately, not many people know much about him: he keeps a pretty low profile. If you'd like, though, I could have some of my servants make inquiries in town. They'll know the right people to ask and I'm sure they could get the information you need much faster than you could. Folks in Oeniadea tend to be wary of strangers."

"Sure," responded Hercules, grateful for the stroke of luck, "that sounds great!"

The young man smiled. "Wonderful!" he said. "In the meantime, why don't you come join me for lunch? I've got a small castle just on the other side of the inn. I'll send out the servants immediately and they can be back with the information you need by early afternoon."

"Fine with me," said the demigod. "Is that all right with you, Jason?"

"Why not?" Jason shrugged and looked up at the sun. It was not even midday yet and by his estimation Iolaus and Nexa wouldn't be arriving until late afternoon at the earliest. The plan was still on schedule and if this guy was willing to help them out, he certainly wasn't going to object.

"Jason?" mused their new friend, betraying a touch of awe in his voice. "You're called Jason? And if I'm not mistaken, that vest is Corinthian leather. Does this mean that I'm standing before Jason of Corinth? *King* Jason of Corinth? His Royal Highness, King Jason of Corinth?"

"The one and only," replied the king with a smile, "but please call me Jason." He was accustomed to being recognized, but was surprised his reputation had spread so far to the west.

"It's a real honor," the young man responded, taking Jason's hand and shaking it vigorously. "And who's your friend?"

"I'm Hercules," said the demigod with a slight shrug.

"Ah! One of the mortal sons of Zeus."

Hercules stared at the young man in amazement. "You've heard of me?" he gasped.

"Of course. I make it a point to have heard of people. We idle rich have *many* pastimes."

Hercules blushed. Unlike Jason, he was completely unaccustomed to notoriety and wasn't quite sure how to handle it. At the moment, the best course of action he could think of was to grin sheepishly and trace circles in the dirt with his toe.

Jason rolled his eyes and turned to face their new companion, deciding that Hercules was probably too busy wallowing in his own newfound renown to complete the introductions. "Well," he said, "we've told you our names. Care to return the favor?"

"Marcus," responded the young man, flashing a scintillating smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you both."


* * *


"Where are *you* off to, handsome?" The pretty barmaid regarded Autolycus with an appealing, pouty expression as he rose from his table at the back of the tavern. She had been eyeing him for quite some time and was hoping he might decide to stay. Handsome young men were a rarity in Oeniadea, or so it seemed to her, and while she had had no luck attracting the attention of the pair that had been in for breakfast, her instincts told her that this tall, dark stranger could turn out to be a better prospect.

The thief smiled at her benevolently and swaggered up to the bar, casually leaning against it with his elbow. With a debonair nod he took her hand and pressed several dinars, kindly "donated" by an unsuspecting merchant, into her palm, gently closing her delicate fingers around the coins. Without releasing her hand, he arched a sympathetic eyebrow. "I'm sorry, gorgeous," he purred, "but I've got to go to work." Deftly kissing each of her fingers as they grasped the handful of currency, he graced her with a dreamy smile and turned once more towards the door.

The barmaid sighed deeply, clutching at the edge of the bar to keep herself from falling. "Need a partner, dreamboat?" she called out breathlessly to the retreating stranger.

Autolycus winced involuntarily at the word. Partner. He shuddered. Never again. Gods, how he cringed just thinking about it. Never one to disappoint his adoring public, however, he reassembled his composure, assuming his most suave and charming countenance, and looked back over his shoulder at the serving girl. "Sorry, gorgeous," he offered mournfully, "but *this* dreamboat always works alone."

Stepping through the door of the inn, the thief paused for a moment, waiting for the muted thud of the barmaid hitting the floor as she swooned at her station. When the noise came a few moments later, Autolycus chuckled to himself, preparing his grappling hook with a self-satisfied grin. He *loved* that sound. A quick motion of the wrist sent his grappling hook flying and moments later he was swinging through the trees on his way to the biggest job of his short but prestigious career.

As he traversed the relatively small distance between the inn and his destination, Autolycus attempted to prepare himself mentally for the upcoming job. Unfortunately, however, despite his strenuous efforts to prevent it, the hated word the barmaid had uttered kept returning to ring hauntingly through his head. Partner. He had had a partner once. Once and only once. It had been an extremely painful albeit character-building experience and he was determined for it to never happen again. He had more than enough character already.

Taking on a partner had seemed like a good idea at the time. The promise of riches beyond his highest aspirations far outweighed any reservations Autolycus had about working in conjunction with another person. Besides, the thief never could resist a pretty face, and hers was absolutely stunning. Of course, her face was not the only thing about her that had appealed to him. She was lean and muscular without being overbearing and she spoke with a curt efficiency that signified her, in the thief's estimation, to be a prudent businesswoman. Her face was framed by a cascade of golden hair and her sharp features gave her an unwavering aspect of icy dignity which chilled him to the core. Above all else, however, he remembered the engaging intensity of her eyes and how they were the color of polished ebony. Uttering a silent curse, Autolycus reprimanded himself for never noticing the cold-hearted viciousness that, in retrospect, lurked so conspicuously in their depths.

Disengaging his grappling hook from the branch above his head, Autolycus laughed faintly to himself, suddenly struck by the irony that he should be reminded of his partner on this particular job. It was less than a year ago that they had lunched at the tavern in Oeniadea, plotting their raid on the very same castle he now approached silently along the trees. She was a bounty hunter and had approached him in search of a thief with whom she could team up in order to claim a particularly lucrative bounty. Foolishly, he had agreed, and they set out at once to invade the criminal's supposedly impenetrable fortress. Both Autolycus and his partner were inhumanly good at their chosen fields and getting themselves inside the castle had proved barely a challenge. Once inside, however, they learned that in addition to being one of the most notorious crime lords in Greece, their intended target was also the possessor of an impressive collection of rare and exotic objects, not the least among which was the Star of Norn, the most magnificent diamond Autolycus had ever seen.

Their next course of action had been swift and decisive. Deciding that they could make off with a significantly greater profit by raiding the crime lord's collection of gems then by actually capturing him, Autolycus and his partner had quickly availed themselves of all they could carry and departed, slipping away silently along the same route by which they had entered.

When they had made camp that evening and his partner had drifted off into slumber, Autolycus decided to strike out on his own. Helping himself to the Star of Norn and leaving the rest of the spoil for the sleeping bounty hunter, he stole away into the night, overwhelmingly pleased with his mesmerizing prize. Naturally, the thief had assumed that once on his own he could put the job, and indeed the partnership, firmly in the past. He had left his partner well over half of the loot, and they had escaped the crime lord's fortress completely undetected. As such, the thief was understandably bewildered two days later when he was apprehended by the Star of Norn's irate former owner and a dozen of his burliest thugs. The bounty hunter had betrayed him. Autolycus escaped with his life, just barely, and ten broken fingers.

Returning to the here and now, the thief looked down at his hands and grimaced at the memory, recalling the intensity of the pain and, what was perhaps worse, the fear that he would never be able to steal again. It had been an arduous recovery process, spanning long and painful months, and he had paid his little all to the best healers he could find. Eventually, however, he had managed to regain almost all of his original dexterity, driven by a strong will, determination, and the memory of how it felt to hold that spectacular diamond and know that it was his. More than anything, Autolycus knew that he had to steal the Star of Norn. Again.

A few weeks earlier, the thief had learned that the Star of Norn's vile proprietor had obtained a new prize from the Near East: the legendary Accadian Fire Ruby. It was then that his nefarious but undeniably justified plan resolved itself in his mind. What better way to exact revenge upon the insidious man who had attempted to take away his livelihood? He would relieve the pompous swine of *both* of his most cherished gems, striking a doubly painful blow and making himself *very* rich in the process.

Autolycus emerged from his reverie to see the intimidating tower of the fortress looming above him, its windowless facade dark against the vivid blue of the clear midday sky. It was undeniably a menacing structure: a featureless cylinder surrounded by a wide moat of impenetrably dark water which seemed to stir unnaturally in the absence of the breeze.

The thief scrutinized the hideous edifice and took a deep breath. "I got in there once," he reminded himself, "and I can do it again. The stories say it can't be done alone? Well the stories don't account for the Prince of Thieves."

With a sigh, Autolycus settled into the crook of a well-obscured tree. He would not attempt to enter the castle until dusk, but he always liked to spend several hours observing his target before he actually struck. He had found he could often glean useful information from a just few hours of surveillance.

Only a few minutes into his vigil, Autolycus' attention was attracted by a sudden movement in the distance. Straining his eyes, he caught sight of three figures approaching the fortress on foot. The tallest of the three figures he could identify immediately by his lissome gait and unmistakable platinum hair. The other two he wasn't so sure about. As they drew closer, the thief squinted to try and ascertain their identities. They looked like... No, it couldn't be. It was. They were the two boys he had been trailing that morning. Autolycus sat back and knitted his brow in puzzlement. "But what are *they* doing here?" he muttered, distractedly chewing a thumbnail. "I hope those poor saps know what they're getting into." With an inward shrug, the Prince of Thieves pushed the thought to the back of his mind and resumed his survey of the grim fortress. This job, he feared, was going to get ugly.


* * *


"I'm hungry."

"Will. You. Please. Shut. Up?"

"I wasn't talking to *you*."

It was barely midday and Nexa was not sure how much more she could tolerate. The morning had gotten off to quite a promising start when she successfully tricked Iolaus into stepping on the enormous spider he had skewered the evening before, not bothering to conceal her mirth at the pained expression on his face when he heard the sickening crunch beneath his boot. On this note, their journey had begun in blissful silence, save for the occasional grunt of disgust from the young hunter as he attempted to dispose of the more stubborn elements of the spider's anatomy which still clung tenaciously to his right boot, scraping it against the rougher textured stumps and logs along the way. However, this delightful conversational quell was not destined to last long as, the moment his footwear was free of all traces of arachnid, Iolaus launched into a stream of prattle which would have put the most verbose Athenian orator to shame.

After almost an hour of failed attempts at conversation, Iolaus had apparently decided to punish his unresponsive partner by serenading her with the bawdiest, most repetitive, irritating song he could come up with. It had taken no less than three death threats and seven daggers thrown directly at his head to get him to stop singing, and that was only because he was so upset by the fact that the seventh dagger, just barely grazing him, had managed to come away with a lock of his hair. Then came another period of welcome silence during which the former thief bitterly mourned the loss of his fallen curl, but not before he forced Nexa to stop and wait while he took the time to bury it.

Even though she knew perfectly well that Iolaus' persistence and melodramatic behavior was all part of an elaborate attempt to goad her into interaction, Nexa frequently found herself getting drawn in by his bait. Occasionally, her determination would falter and she would feel compelled to hold up her end of the otherwise one-sided conversation. The most notable of these instances had occurred when Iolaus decided to regale her with some preposterous story about being attacked by a Phoenix and actually managed to engage her in a debate over the veracity of the tale for well over half an hour. It was this event which had precipitated Nexa's decision not to speak to the young hunter at all until they reached Oeniadea. Since then, she had maintained her silence with impressive discipline but now, after an hour of suffering through Iolaus' ludicrous counter-measure to her reticence, the bounty hunter was forced to speak in a last ditch attempt to preserve her sanity. His unsatisfactory response to her plea for silence prompted her to repeat it.

"I said, 'Will. You. Shut. Up?'!"

Iolaus regarded her with an expression of haughty dismissal. "And *I* said, 'I wasn't talking to you.' I was talking to myself."

Nexa closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose wearily. "I *know* you were talking to yourself. If you'll recall, you explained the process extremely thoroughly an hour ago. But *must* you carry on this conversation with yourself at such a high volume?"

"Oh, but I must," the former thief responded, flashing a victorious smile. "I'm hard of hearing, you know."

The bounty hunter sighed and gingerly placed a few soothing fingers on each of her temples. "Look, I know we're not exactly best pals here, but have I really been so horrible as to deserve this kind of torment?"

"Well I certainly won't be adding you to my Winter Solstice list if *that's* what you're hinting at."

"Oooh!" With an exasperated snarl, Nexa turned abruptly away from her companion and trudged ahead of him on the path, swatting testily at a low hanging branch and quite deliberately allowing it to snap back in the young hunter's face.

"Look," Iolaus protested, peering fixedly at the branch as he disengaged several of his golden curls from its coarse, sticky surface and cursing the fact that his hair would smell like sap for the rest of the day, "I don't see why you're making this so difficult. It's not as if by talking to me you're committing to some kind of profound relationship."

"Oh, no?" Nexa looked over her shoulder at Iolaus, arching an accusatory eyebrow. "What about those 'tales of lusty nights around the campfire' that you promised those friends of yours?"

"Please," snorted Iolaus dismissively. "That was just guy talk. Believe me, I do not have, and have *never* had, any designs on you, lusty or otherwise, and if I *had* they would have been instantaneously extinguished after a single helping of your incomparable charm. Gods, compared to you, Ares seems affectionate... Discord seems demure... Strife seems... seems... sexy." Iolaus shuddered violently as if struck by some hideous mental image. "Well, okay," he admitted, "maybe not that last one, but you get my point."

'Ouch,' thought the bounty hunter, eyes wide with affront. She kept facing forward, reluctant to allow her companion to see how brutally he'd struck.

Confronted with Nexa's silence, Iolaus decided to emphasize his point. "So fear not," he said, "I haven't the slightest intent of having any involvement with you once I have my thousand dinars. I've got plenty of friends and no use for family. If I had any interest in inflicting myself with the kind of misery *you* dole out, I'd go back and live at home."

The cadet's remark had been casual, but Nexa found that it grated her sensibilities significantly more cruelly than having her sexual allurement deemed inferior to the Pantheon's most irritating minor deity. Slowly, she turned to face her partner, black eyes flashing with anger. "If you've got no use for family," she hissed bitterly, "then you're an even bigger fool than I thought."

Iolaus, who had been tugging at some sappy leaves which were stubbornly affixed to his hair from his encounter with the branch, looked up in surprise at her almost viciously stern tone. "Believe me," he said flatly, "if you're calling me a fool for avoiding home then you definitely haven't spent enough time with my family." He finally managed to remove one of the leaves from his hair, only to find that it had become stuck to his fingers. Rolling his eyes in frustration, he wiped his hand furiously against the rough bark of a nearby tree. When at last he had liberated himself from the vile leaf, Iolaus ran his hands through his hair to discover that another had fallen from above and, encountering the sap in his matted curls, quite eagerly replaced it.

"Or maybe *you* haven't spent enough time with them." Nexa regarded the hunter reproachfully and planted herself in the middle of the path, barring his way.

Iolaus, not about to be questioned on a subject he felt so strongly about, did not hesitate to meet the bounty hunter's challenge. He stepped close to her and drew himself up to his full height, the tribulations with his hair momentarily forgotten. Looking downwards slightly, he gazed into her eyes with a fierce intensity that matched her own. "I don't know who you think you are," he said in a low, steady voice, "but you don't know a thing about *my* family... And you should be glad that you don't because, frankly, I don't think you could handle it."

Eyes wide but unwavering, Nexa gazed at her companion, astonished by the shadow that had so abruptly darkened his countenance. This was an act, it had to be. No one who carried himself so affably could have possibly undergone the painful childhood to which Iolaus now seemed to be alluding. He had to be trying to deceive her: a trick to gain her sympathy. Well, it wasn't going to work. "What's the matter," she taunted with a melodramatic pout, "Daddy not buy you enough presents? Did he ignore you?"

The young hunter emitted a sharp, bitter laugh and pushed past his partner. "We were *lucky* if he ignored us," he spat, seeming to address the heavens rather than the bounty hunter. "To be honest, we were lucky if we came away with only a black eye or a broken wrist." He stalked forwards with serious determination, unwilling to make eye contact with Nexa, whose newly sympathetic gaze he could now feel burning through the back of his neck. How could he have let his guard down? How could he have admitted something so personal to someone who held him in such palpable disdain? Iolaus closed his eyes and shook his head violently, as if to rid himself by force of the offending memories. Taking a deep breath, he resolved that he would never let her through his defenses again.

From behind him, Nexa bit her lip, regretting having pushed him so far. Every now and then, one encounters a person that attacks life with such enthusiasm, such unadulterated joy, that it is quite natural to assume that he has never felt pain or hardship, never suffered at the hands of another. Nexa had always regarded these unspoiled few as the last bastion of her optimism for mankind; they gave her hope that human beings, in the absence of the jading turmoil of society, were fundamentally good; that humanity was salvageable. Until this moment, she had believed Iolaus to be one of those precious few and now, having learned that she had been distinctly mistaken, the bounty hunter mourned the loss, feeling its sting much more sharply than she would have ever expected.

"Look..." Nexa said quietly, "Iolaus, I'm sorry... I didn't mean..."

"Forget it," responded Iolaus with decided finality. The last thing he needed or wanted from *anyone*, least of all this bounty hunter, was sympathy. It was time to change the subject, even if that meant resorting to the most transparent, albeit reliable, topic changing tactic he could come up with. "Besides," he said, mustering up his most casually jocular tone, "it's not like *your* folks are up for the Greatest Parents of the Known World award this year."

Nexa's eyes narrowed and she glanced over at the young hunter, who had recovered his innocent, carefree expression, and now loped along the forest path with seeming contentment, attempting to extract a small twig from his hair. "What do you mean by that?" she asked suspiciously, the contrition of her previous statement distinctly absent in her voice.

Triumphantly recovering the twig from his golden curls, Iolaus frowned at it disdainfully, tossing it aside as he began to rub the tender spot on the back of his neck where it had been poking him. Noticing Nexa's wounded, angry expression, he finally registered her question. "Oh, come on," he said scornfully, sounding almost insulted that she might challenge his assertion. "What kind of parents would allow their daughter to become a bounty hunter?"

Drawing in a slow, deliberate breath, Nexa looked at her partner soberly. "Dead ones," she replied.

"Oh," murmured Iolaus regretfully. So much for moving on to a less dire conversational topic. "I'm sorry... When...?"

"A few years ago," responded the bounty hunter with a slight shrug, staring absently at the ground. She looked up momentarily and locked eyes with her companion for just long enough to take in his sympathetic half-smile before abruptly turning away, picking up her pace along the trail.

Iolaus matched her gait and bit his lip with concern. "So you've been all alone since then?" he asked.

"Well, not *all* alone," she replied with an air of regretful nostalgia, "I have a sister."

"A sister?" repeated Iolaus with a smile, hoping to lighten the tone of their conversation somewhat. "Now *that* sounds promising. She look anything like you?"

Nexa arched an eyebrow, looking sideways at her partner and smiling faintly. "Actually, she looks *exactly* like me. We're twins."

"Twins! Now that *definitely* sounds promising. So, is she single?"

Despite all attempts not to, the bounty hunter laughed quietly at this remark. "Forget it, Iolaus" she said, shaking her head. "You might think *I'm* cold and unfriendly, but compared to my sister, Ravenica, I'm practically Aphrodite. The cold shoulder *she* would give you could freeze the Aegean."

Iolaus' eyes widened. Now *that* is what he called glacial. Suddenly, his interest in meeting this so-called sister was substantially diminished. "So," he said, "what does this she-demon sister of yours do for a living? Some sort of seamstress, I presume?"

Nexa laughed with significantly less reserve than before, vastly amused by both the image of her sister sitting in a rocking chair darning a pair of socks and the knowledge that Ravenica's most likely reaction to some doe-eyed youth's suggestion that she might be a seamstress would be to stab him repeatedly in the neck. "Close," she responded, grinning at her companion in amusement. "She's a bounty hunter."

Iolaus staggered back melodramatically and clutched at his heart, his expression one of unconcealed astonishment. "A bounty hunter!" he exclaimed. "You don't say!"

"Yeah," Nexa chuckled, rolling her eyes at the boy's theatrics. "Shocking, isn't it?"

Iolaus nodded in heartfelt agreement and smiled brightly at his partner, noticing that the warmth of her rare but genuine smile seemed to melt away the iciness of her typical demeanor. "I wonder... Does Ravenica's name mean 'violent death,' too?" The former thief put a finger to his cheek, as if immersed in some deep, intellectual discourse.

"No," responded Nexa earnestly, "but it should."

"I see," said Iolaus with a thoughtful nod as he leapt blithely over a waist-high branch that obstructed their path just as Nexa was attempting to crawl under it. "So, if you've got a sister who's a bounty hunter, why didn't you just team up with *her* for this job?"

Swatting at the shower of dead leaves produced by Iolaus' jostling of the branch, Nexa glared up at him in annoyance. "I just didn't want to, okay?" She rose and dusted herself off, brushing away Iolaus' hand as he apologetically attempted to remove a few of the fallen leaves from her hair.

"Sorry," responded the hunter, struck by the sudden chill in her voice, "it just seemed like a logical partnership, that's all." Examining Nexa's grim expression which moments ago had been brightened with laughter, Iolaus began to wonder whether he would *ever* understand women. "So..." he began, hoping to steer the conversation safely away from it's currently dismal tone, "you and Ravenica are both bounty hunters... How do you think your parents would have felt about that?"

"I'm pretty sure they'd be fine with it," Nexa responded candidly. While the coldness had left her voice, she frowned slightly as she spoke. "They were bounty hunters too."

"You're kidding!" Iolaus' surprise was genuine this time, and he scrutinized his partner's visage for any hint of deception.

"No, of course not. Why should I be?"

"I don't know," Iolaus shrugged, "it's just that I never knew that bounty hunters even had *conversations*, let alone children... And, frankly, until a few minutes ago, your behavior has served to completely confirm that impression."

Nexa glanced at the cadet reproachfully, not really grasping what he found so shocking about the vocational choices of her family, and elected simply not to respond. They walked in silence for a while, devoting their concentration to navigating the increasingly steep and narrow incline of the path. A ridge dropped off abruptly on their left and Iolaus occupied himself by tossing small rocks over the edge and counting the number of bounces before they made a faint splash in the stream that carved out the deep gully below. Every now and then, they would be struck by a shower of dust and pebbles, dislodged by the motion of some unseen animal on the hillside above. At a sharp turn in the trail, the ridge narrowed to the extent that they could no longer walk abreast, and Iolaus gestured gallantly for Nexa to go first.

"So your parents were *really* both bounty hunters?" Iolaus asked as he at last broke the silence, his incredulity undiminished by the time that had passed.

Rolling her eyes, the bounty hunter stopped short. "As a matter of fact," she said, turning around laboriously to face her partner, "only my mother was actually a bounty hunter. My father was a..."

Iolaus had been distracted by a slight motion somewhere just below the ridge and didn't notice that Nexa had stopped until he had nearly run into her. Thus, at this most recent statement, he found himself startlingly close to her, their gazes locked. He could feel her warm breath on his lower lip as she spoke, and he felt a sudden chill as she whispered the final word:

"... thief."

Nexa shuddered involuntarily and despite her desire to avoid the look of surprise in the pale clarity of her partner's eyes, she could not bring herself to turn away. In silence, she returned his gaze, watching as the expression of surprise melted into warmth, and she could tell by the way his eyes narrowed slightly at the corners that he was offering her a faint but friendly smile. Recalling her last statement, Nexa's eyes widened as she was suddenly struck with the realization of why she kept finding herself drawn to this young man that she was so superficially determined to dislike. She looked deeper into the placid blue of his now curious gaze and marveled that she hadn't noticed the resemblance earlier. He, with his affability, humor and charm... she, with her fortitude and calculating determination... *They*... were just like her parents.

Nexa had idolized her parents since birth, both as individuals and as a team. She had admired their astonishing expertise in their chosen fields, the constancy and complexity of their teamwork, and how they could so facilely communicate without speech, formulating intricate maneuvers as if by telepathy. But above everything else, she had admired them for their ability to cast aside the detached callousness of their brutal profession and love both their children and each other with a depth which seemingly surpassed the capacity of mortals. Nexa had always loved watching the joy with which her parents interacted and, she now realized, had subconsciously hoped to find similar happiness herself some day.

The young bounty hunter returned her distracted gaze to Iolaus and blinked in response to his questioning expression. Well, now what? Here she was, having inadvertently acquired a partner who was everything she never even realized she wanted, and now she had no idea what to do next. As sure as she was about her desire for a continuing partnership with this handsome young thief, the very thought of it scared her more than Tartarus; perhaps that was why she had been so resolved to continually push him away. However, all that didn't matter now. The important question was: now that she had found him, what should she say? Looking intently into his eyes, Nexa took a deep breath and made her decision.

"We're wasting time," she snapped, turning abruptly away from Iolaus and continuing along the path, kicking a few rocks irritably out of her way as the trail began to descend once more into the thick of the forest, "I don't know *why* I keep letting you rope me into these stupid conversations."

Iolaus paused for a moment, watching Nexa as she retreated. He noted the dim glimmer of the sunlight as it filtered through the sparse trees on the hillside above them and reflected off of her flaxen hair and the brighter but still muted shine as it glinted from the daggers that girded her waist. With a puzzled expression and a defeated sigh, Iolaus adjusted the pack across his shoulder and followed his partner. He would *definitely* never understand women.


* * *


"This place is incredible!" Hercules marveled at the richly brocaded tapestries which adorned the chiseled, stone walls of the vestibule that welcomed them into Marcus' home. Although the amiable stranger had mentioned something of his wealth, the demigod had never suspected that he and Jason would be ushered into a mansion of such luxury that even the palace at Corinth paled in comparison. Two broad staircases flanked the extravagant archway at the opposite end of the hall, through which was visible a lush inner courtyard. The stone banister of each staircase was carved into the form of a serpent bearing lethal fangs of immaculate ivory. The remarkable detail was apparent even from a distance as the texture of layered scales on the serpents' bodies seemed to ripple as if alive as they crept up the stairway and along the high, narrow balcony, joining at the middle. Light shone down from the lofty, arching ceiling above and glinted brightly in the two-headed serpent's fearsome ruby eyes. Investigating the source of the light, Hercules discovered the vast dome of colored glass which encompassed most of the ceiling, noting that the sunlight which gleamed with almost unbearable brightness from its apex vividly changed its color as he moved about the room.

Marcus beamed at the compliment and looked about the vestibule with satisfaction. "Thanks," he said, "I must admit to having a partiality towards the aesthetic. It makes me happy just knowing that I have these beautiful things in my home."

"This looks familiar," noted Jason from another corner of the hall.

"Ah!" exclaimed Marcus, clasping his hands together. "You've found it! I was hoping you would." He crossed the room to admire the tapestry that Jason was indicating, his white hair flashing first rose then turquoise in the ambient sunlight.

His curiosity piqued, Hercules joined his two companions in front of the tapestry. "Hey!" he said, "that's us!"

"Jason and the Argonauts. The retrieval of the Golden Fleece." Marcus sighed approvingly, gazing up at the ornament with obvious pleasure.

"It's almost exactly like something we have back in Corinth," said Jason, knitting his brow and regarding their host curiously.

"It should be," Marcus replied, "I commissioned it from the same artist that designed the depiction in your palace. I hope you don't mind, but when I heard that a mosaic was to be made commemorating your historic journey, I just had to have one for myself. Of course, I much prefer tapestry to mosaic. Much less effort required for the upkeep; besides, just look at the detail."

"I'll say," said Jason in astonishment as he scrutinized the left side of the tapestry, which depicted the Argo and its crew with uncanny accuracy. "Look, the artist even included that huge tangle we got in the rigging after the horrible storm."

"Hey," said Hercules brightly, pointing at two small figures in the stern, "that even looks like Iolaus standing next to you at the helm."

"Sure does," Jason laughed, "but by the looks of it he's having an awfully bad hair day. Iolaus would be mortified if he knew this rendition of him was hanging up in someone's castle."

"That reminds me," muttered Marcus sullenly, his bright features darkening in spite of the cheerful glow of the room, "we'd better get moving if we're going to try and help your friend. I've seen what Revilius does to those who go up against him and, believe me, it isn't pretty. Let's head for the banquet hall where most of my servants should be assembled by now. From there I'll send my head steward and a few of his most reliable men out to Oeniadea to make inquiries." He gave his companions a concerned nod and strode purposefully through the elaborate archway at the end of the hall.

Hercules and Jason exchanged a quick, worried glance and hastened to follow Marcus, each silently attempting to quell his unspoken fears that this time their reckless friend may have gotten in so far over his head that they might not be able to pull him out again. If Revilius was really as bad as everyone said, Iolaus could be in *big* trouble.

As they emerged into the inner courtyard, Hercules and Jason were struck with a view even more breathtaking than the vestibule, a feat they would not have thought possible moments earlier. The courtyard, itself, was principally circular and was populated by lush, unusual-looking plants and a wide array of colorful, exotic birds, one of which alighted on Marcus' shoulder the moment he came into view. The encompassing walls rose steeply for perhaps seven or eight stories above them, sloping outward slightly to reveal echelons of ivy blanketed terraces. Overlooking the scene was a broad stone balcony on which nearly motionless guards, barely perceptible from the ground level, were posted every fifteen paces or so. While the diameter of the inner courtyard was substantially less than that of the castle, it was apparent that the conical interior took full advantage of the space allotted, broadening to nearly the full outer-diameter at the top and thereby allowing a maximal amount of sunlight to glimmer down upon the garden below.

Directly across from them was a flattened wall bearing a broad archway guarded by a pair of ferocious-looking stone griffins. The wall cut back abruptly after two stories to join the circular wall beyond, and was crowned by a dome of colored glass that looked similar in design to the one they had seen from below in the vestibule. The garden was etched with a network of cris-crossing paths and at the center was an enormous, two-level fountain, adorned with marble mermaids and sea nymphs and flaunting a tall, jewel encrusted trident at the center. The crystalline water of the fountain cascaded into the wide pool of the lower tier which was inhabited by shimmering fish of gold and silver, their scales glinting as they swam lackadaisically about, languishing in the midday sun. From there, Hercules looked back in the direction from which they had come to see that, indeed, the outer wall of the vestibule was the precise mirror image of the domed structure that stood opposite. On diametrical walls of the garden directly between the two exits were small waterfalls which sprang in narrow ribbons from just below the terrace four stories up and dove into tiny, greenery-enfolded alcoves, glimmering with myriad colors as they captured the sunlight that reflected off of the sparkling domes. Even Jason found himself taken aback by the spectacular scene and it was with no little amount of awe that he glanced over at his host, who seemed significantly more interested in attending to the bird on his shoulder than admiring the scintillating landscape.

"Hi there, Hermes," said Marcus with a warm smile, stroking the bird gently along the crimson feathers below its beak. He produced a cracker from somewhere amongst the folds of his flowing, white robe and offered it to the animal.

"Hello, Marcus," Hermes replied, accepting the cracker graciously. Once it had consumed its snack, the bird tugged affectionately on the golden hoop its master wore high in his left ear. Marcus laughed in response to the gesture and reached up to gently smooth back the wild, multi-colored plumage that adorned Hermes' head and neck.

As the group proceeded to the other end of the garden, Marcus introduced the bird to his companions but, much to Hercules' disappointment, it seemed reluctant to say their names. "Don't feel bad," offered Marcus with a smile, "Hermes is just a little shy around strangers. Aren't you, Hermes?" The bird neglected to respond, but kept its eyes transfixed on the two newcomers, climbing back and forth along Marcus' shoulders in an attempt to put the maximum possible distance between itself and them.

Beyond the courtyard, the group passed quickly through a square room, sheltered by the second of the glass domes, which was filled with several chillingly lifelike statues of warriors and a pair of large, bronze Chimaera. At last they arrived at the banquet hall and as they stepped through the archway, at least a dozen servants leapt up in attentiveness. The room was long and dimly lit at the periphery but its principal feature, an extravagant wooden table, was brightly illuminated by two blazing chandeliers directly above it and a series of candelabras along its length. The table and its accompanying chairs were intricately carved with serpents and elongated birds along every edge, and each leg was sculpted into the shape of a richly textured dragon claw.

A graying, somber-looking man strode over to them officiously as Hermes took to the air and flapped casually over to alight on a tall, exquisitely detailed perch near the head of the table.

"Ah! Diakonos. Just the man I wanted to see." Marcus grinned affably at the elder man, who returned his gaze with stoic indifference.

"Yes, sir? What can I do for you, sir?" came the dull monotone of Diakonos' reply.

"Well," said Marcus, "it seems that these two young gentlemen have a friend who's gotten it into his head to try and capture Revilius. Very sensibly, they're eager to stop him and, naturally, I'd like to help. Could you gather some of your staff together and make the appropriate arrangements?"

"Very good, sir."

"Thanks. Oh, and please notify the kitchen staff that I have two guests lunching with me and that we would like to dine at their earliest convenience."

"Yes, sir." With a curt nod, the head steward turned on his heel and disappeared through a darkened archway at the other end of the hall.

Marcus turned towards his guests with a wink and gestured for them to sit down. "Don't worry, Diakonos will take care of everything," he said. "He's without a doubt the best steward in Greece. Oh, and please excuse his rather abrupt manner," he added as he moved to take his seat at the head of the table, "he's even shier around strangers than Hermes. Isn't that right, Hermes?"

"Strangers!" responded Hermes, ruffling his feathers dramatically before settling back down into his perch.

As Hercules and Jason approached the table, two servants stepped forward to draw back the chairs immediately to Marcus' left and right. Another group brought bowls overflowing with fruit, trays of warm bread, and goblets filled to the brim with pungent wine.

'I could get used to this,' thought Hercules as he took his seat and glanced around the room. While the banquet hall could not boast the overwhelming beauty of the other rooms he had seen, it was still impressive in design and very elegant in a grim, imposing kind of way. As the brightness of the candlelight diffused into darkness beyond the table, the demigod could just make out the stone friezes of harpies which presided over the scene from the the long walls that ran parallel. Their eyes, inlaid pearls, seemed almost aglow as they shimmered dully in the flickering light. Further down the hall, where it became too dark to see the friezes themselves, the eyes remained clearly visible, looking down at the occupants of the table with a sinister gleam. Hercules shuddered and made a note to himself not to look in that direction anymore.

Directing his gaze upwards, Hercules noticed the chandeliers with a gasp. "Are those actually *real* phoenix claws?!" He gaped up at the monstrosities with a mixture of revulsion and awe before turning, horrified, towards his host.

Marcus regarded Hercules with a bemused expression. "They sure are," he laughed, popping a grape into his mouth. "Grotesque, aren't they? As you may have noticed from the rest of the house I have a distinct penchant for the unique and bizarre when it comes to decoration. So when I was offered the opportunity to buy those chandeliers, atrocious as they are, I jumped at the chance. Besides, they go perfectly with the decor of this room."

Tearing off a bite of bread, Jason looked askance at the white-haired young man and then across at his friend, who sniffed at his wine cautiously before taking a polite sip and returning the goblet to the table. "How long do you think it will take your steward to gather the information on Revilius?" he asked. The young king wasn't exactly in the mood to discuss interior decorating.

"Not long," Marcus responded after a few moments' thought. "If you'd like, we can take a quick tour of the rest of my estate after lunch. By the time we finish it will be early afternoon and Diakonos will have completed all the necessary preparations."

Hercules frowned and he bit his lip, uncomfortably swallowing the large piece of bread he had been chewing. "Will that give us enough time to help Iolaus?"

"Definitely," responded Marcus with a confident smile. "Now tell me, how did this friend of yours... Iolaus... get it into his head to try and tackle Revilius?"

The demigod rolled his eyes. "This bounty hunter showed up and offered to split the reward with him if he helped her capture Revilius. Honestly, I don't think he realized quite what he was getting into."

"Yeah," said Jason with a snort, "and Iolaus has a knack for getting himself into trouble in even the most harmless situations, so we thought we'd better follow along and make sure he didn't get hurt."

Nodding thoughtfully, Marcus selected an apple and admired it for a moment before taking a large bite. Taking the knife from the bread tray, he cut a slice of the fruit and offered it to Hermes, who gratefully accepted, daintily nibbling at the piece of apple as he grasped it with his foot, but continued to eye the two young strangers suspiciously. "Well," said the young man after he had given the bird a second slice, "that's very admirable of you two. He's lucky to have such good friends."

Hercules shrugged. "He'd do the same for either of us. That's the way we operate. We just want to make sure he gets out of this alive, that's all."

Marcus clasped his hands and rested his chin on top of them. "I'm just warning you," he said, "against Revilius that could take some work. Do you have any more details about when they're attacking and where? The more we know, the better our chances for helping your friend."

"Unfortunately, we don't know that much," replied the demigod with a concerned frown, "just that they're going to try and infiltrate his fortress and that they should be arriving in Oeniadea late afternoon or so. That's all the bounty hunter told us..."

"Nexa," corrected Jason, furrowing his brow in annoyance.

"Yeah... Whatever..." Hercules muttered.

"Nexa!" squawked Hermes.

Hercules glared at the bird in wounded disbelief. "Oh sure," he complained, "he'll say that bounty hunter's name but he won't say mine. Oh, that's fair."

Jason was about to scold his friend for being so bitter about whether a bird would talk to him, but his reprimand was preempted as several servants appeared bearing tureens of steaming soup, heaping platters of goat cheese, and roasted quail.

"Wonderful," Marcus beamed, closing his eyes as he inhaled the richly spiced aromas of the feast. "Lunch at last! Please help yourself, my friends."

As the servants retreated, Jason noticed that two men lingered behind, standing motionless at each side of the archway. The men were garbed in light body armor and, in addition to the swords that hung at their hips, were armed with thick, barbed spears. The young king frowned. "What's with all the guards?" he asked.

Marcus swallowed a mouthful of quail and dabbed gently at his lips with his napkin. "What do you mean?"

"The guards," repeated Jason. "There were four at the drawbridge and two just inside the castle gate. Then I counted at least a dozen staked out above the courtyard and now these two. You expecting an invasion or something?"

"I've found," said Marcus grimly as he took a large draught of his wine, "that a man in my position can not be too careful. This castle... all my wealth... they once belonged to my father, but he was careless. He failed to take the necessary precautions to protect himself and his home. It cost him his life. The day he died, I vowed I would never make the same mistake nor, if possible, allow anyone else to fall into a similar trap. That's why I'm particularly worried about your friend and am going to do everything in my power to prevent him from attempting to go through with what is essentially a suicide mission."

Jason narrowed his eyes "How so?" he asked.

"Because Revilius is the one who killed my father."



* * *



"Hello, what's this?" Autolycus had been monitoring the fortress without incident for just over an hour when an unexpected motion from high atop the stone battlements caught his eye. The sentries that had kept a constant, motionless watch since the thief had arrived had substantially diminished in number and one by one he saw them sink below his view. Now that was *really* odd. From his previous surveillance of this castle, Autolycus knew perfectly well what the procedure for changing guards was: each man would wait until his replacement arrived to stand in his place and only then would he carefully proceed to the northernmost point along the wall and depart via what was presumably a staircase of some sort. In his many hours of careful vigilance Autolycus had witnessed this procedure dozens of times and not once had he seen even one, let alone all, of the watchmen simply vanish from view. Something was definitely wrong.

If the brash young thief had had any nagging doubts that something was afoot, they would have been instantly put to rest a few moments later when a guard emerged from inside the fortress and after conferring briefly with the men posted at the head of the drawbridge, lead the entire group back into the castle. The drawbridge, despite being completely unattended, was left beckoningly open, a sure sign that it was the worst possible place for a potential trespasser to attempt to effect an entry.

The Prince of Thieves arched an eyebrow at the scene, chewing pensively on a knuckle as he waited for further action to occur. After several minutes, however, the fortress was silent as ever; the stillness was such that a casual passer-by would, no doubt, have mistaken it to be abandoned. There was neither the clamor of battle echoing through the long, stone corridors within, nor the heavy splash of the carcasses of unwelcome intruders being pitched into the moat. "It's a trap," said Autolycus grimly to himself.

"On the other hand," he added after a few moments' contemplation, "if the trap isn't for me - which it's not - then what do I care? All the better if the guards are distracted by looking for somebody else." The thief observed the position of the sun, making a quick calculation of the amount of time remaining before dusk, and furrowed his brow.

"Autolycus," he said decisively, "it's time for a change in plans. You're going in early. Now just hope you can get in there and escape with the jewels before those knuckleheads catch whoever it is they're *really* looking for."

Autolycus smiled, well pleased with his revised plan, and with a quick nod cast his grappling hook into the next tree over, feeling awfully sorry for the poor saps that were unwittingly about to walk into the lion's den.


* * *


Iolaus and Nexa had been walking for two hours, engulfed in the silence of their own thoughts. They were making excellent time and it was looking like they would reach Oeniadea substantially before dusk. Despite their rapid progress, however, Nexa was feeling unsettled. Since the discovery of her developing affections for the handsome young thief, she had been left to mull over her feelings in silence, much to her chagrin. She didn't want to think about such things. Like most bounty hunters, Nexa vastly preferred counting up the number of ways she could break a man's arm to profound introspection. At this point, she would have killed for the distraction of one of Iolaus' stupid satyr jokes. As the bounty hunter cursed the dearth of conversation, the first of its kind in two days of travel, the irony of the situation did not escape her.

Looking over at Iolaus as he navigated his way purposefully around a large boulder, Nexa sighed and tried to redirect her thoughts towards the mission at hand. It was going to be a difficult job and she would have to be at her peak; she couldn't allow herself to be distracted by personal matters. 'On the other hand,' she reminded herself, 'you've got to think about it eventually, and if not now, when?' She frowned and stole another glance at her partner just in time to see him swat a persistent fly away from his face and threaten it with his sword. The bounty hunter bit her lip and realized that now - before the job - might be her only chance. He had, after all, told her unequivocally that he had no interest in keeping contact with her after their mission was finished. So what should she do? Just bring it up casually? Employ violence of some sort? Just grab the boy and kiss him?

"Don't go there."

The sudden words startled Nexa out of her train of thought and she flushed hotly, reviewing the last few moments to verify that she hadn't actually been thinking out loud. "What?" she snapped irritably, wrenching her arm away from Iolaus' staying hand.

"We can't go that way," said Iolaus, gesturing at the mud-covered trail ahead of them. "We'll have to take a different route."

"Because of a little mud? Don't be ridiculous." Nexa glowered at her partner and strode defiantly ahead into the mud. "This way is faster so we're going this way. I don't care if your boots get dirty."

Iolaus frowned and stayed where he was. "Look, I know what I'm talking about. Can't you just trust me?"

"No," the bounty hunter tossed back without turning around. "Now come on. We're almost to Oeniadea and... and... why am I sinking?" She looked down and saw that she was calf-deep in mud and sinking fast. Straining her neck, she looked back at the former thief who stood some fifteen paces away, looking intolerably smug.

"Because you're in a sink-hole. I told you not to go that way." Iolaus folded his arms across his chest and smiled, greatly amused by the look of horror in his partner's eyes.

From the sink-hole Nexa cringed, wondering whether it would be preferable to end her life here and now rather than admit that Iolaus had been right. After a brief deliberation, however, her survival instinct managed to suppress the influence of her pride. "Okay, okay," she huffed, "you told me so. Now get me out of here, will you? It's up to my thighs!"

"Well I don't know," Iolaus responded, tapping his cheek thoughtfully. "I don't think you trust me enough."

The bounty hunter's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you *joking*? Help!"

"But I'm not sure I'm qualified to rescue you," said the cadet earnestly as he drew a long length of rope out of his pack and began tying it to one of the crossbow bolts. "Seeing as how you don't trust me and all."

Nexa rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Okay," she grumbled. "Fine. I trust you. Now will you hurry up? I'm waist deep!"

Iolaus flashed one of his trademark grins and smoothed his hair back. "That's better," he said. Kneeling down, the young hunter took careful aim and fired the bolt into a thick tree trunk on the other side of the sink hole. He meticulously returned the crossbow to his pack before lying down on his stomach and grasping the rope. With a deep breath, he began to pull himself slowly forward along the rope, keeping to his stomach and allowing his legs to drag limply behind him.

"What are you doing?" demanded Nexa as she pushed against the surface of the mud in a vain attempt to slow her rate of descent.

"Rescuing you," said Iolaus quietly, brow furrowed in concentration as he slowly worked his way towards her.

Nexa took a deep breath and tried to suppress her rising panic, praying to whatever gods were listening that this partner of hers wouldn't get *both* of them killed. Suddenly, however, she felt a surprisingly strong arm reach around her ribcage, which was already submerged.

"Grab the rope," said Iolaus with a smile, his face caked in mud. "And when you get out, keep low and try to maximize your contact area against the ground. It's the only way to keep from sinking."

With the young hunter helping to lift her, Nexa gradually managed to drag herself free and a few minutes later the pair heaved themselves onto the thankfully solid ground beyond the sink-hole where they lay speechless for a moment, breathing heavily.

"How did you know how to do that?" asked Nexa, rolling onto her side and gazing gratefully at Iolaus once she had caught her breath.

Iolaus shrugged and rolled over to face her. "It's an old hunter's trick," he said. "Actually, it's more of a young hunter's trick. When I was a kid... too little to use a bow or a spear... I used to catch quail and rabbit by flushing them into mud pits like that one. The tricky part was actually recovering my quarry without getting myself killed, but I got the hang of it pretty quick."

"Well, thanks," said Nexa with a faint smile. Without even thinking, she reached over and brushed her thumb against his cheek, wiping away the layer of mud that had accumulated there. Realizing what she was doing, she started to pull away in embarrassment but Iolaus stopped her, placing his right palm gently on the back of her hand as it rested against his face. He looked at her quizzically and reached out tentatively with his left hand to brush away a few mud-caked strands of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. They remained that way for several moments, just gazing at each other in silence. Nexa was keenly aware of the warmth of Iolaus' hand against her cheek and the sensation electrified her. Iolaus, meanwhile, marveled at the soft delicacy of the hand beneath his palm and, closing his fingers around it, was surprised to find that it was trembling.

"Well," said the young hunter at last, "you were right about one thing."

"What's that?" asked Nexa quietly, bearing an expression of vague confusion.

"This way was definitely faster."

With a soft laugh, Iolaus rose and offered a hand to help his partner up as she smiled and rolled her eyes at him. After a few minutes of walking, they heard the burble of a nearby stream and took a moment to rinse themselves off, cleaning up as much as expediency would allow. Before long they were on their way again, leaving the surprising intimacy of their moment at the mud pit behind with a mutual, unspoken sense of regret.

"You know," said Iolaus softly once they were back on the trail, "if you had just trusted me back there, that little ordeal at the sink-hole would never have happened." He reached back to wring some excess water out of his golden curls.

Nexa sighed. "I know, I know. Look, it's nothing personal. It's just a general policy of mine, that's all. I don't trust *anybody*."

"Well maybe it's time you started." Iolaus furrowed his brow and addressed the bounty hunter earnestly. "You said you wanted a partner, and here I am... but partners have to trust each other. It's kind of in the rules, you know?"

Shaking her head, Nexa laughed faintly. "You make it sound so easy," she said.

"It is easy. You just have to be in the right frame of mind."

"Not for me." A shadow fell over the bounty hunter's beautiful features and she gazed off into the distance. "The last partner I had was my sister," she murmured. "It was right after our parents had been killed. They were captured while trying to go after the bounty on a warlord named Sfodros. When the news of their deaths reached us, Ravenica and I were determined to get revenge, so we teamed up and decided to go after the bounty ourselves. That's how we first got started in the business. Anyway, as it turned out, we were naturals for the profession. We caught Sfodros... and killed him."

Iolaus' voice was hushed. "Which one of you actually..."

Turning to face her partner, Nexa's countenance was shrouded in a veil of painful memory. "I did," she whispered. "He was the first person I ever killed. Ravenica was brutal, completely possessed with rage. She was torturing him and it almost seemed like she *enjoyed* it. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore so... I slit his throat."

Iolaus swallowed hard, unsure how to reply. "At least you got your revenge," he offered in a sullen attempt at consolation.

With a bitter laugh, Nexa shook her head. "I guess," she said. "We set out to avenge our parents' deaths and we did it... although looking back on it, I think Ravenica was motivated more by the threat of punishment at the hands of the Furies than family loyalty. But... yeah. We killed Sfodros, got our revenge, collected our bounty and went home. I was pretty numb at that point, but I snapped out of it pretty quickly when less than a week later Ravenica took off with every dinar we had. After that, I didn't have much choice but to become a bounty hunter full time. I had to eat and it was the only thing I knew how to do."

The young hunter regarded his companion mournfully. "I'm sorry," he said, turning her to face him and placing a strong hand gently on each of her shoulders. "Look, I just want you to know that not *all* partnerships have to end like that. I realize that it's hard to break old habits, but you have to learn to trust me. After all, I'm *not* Ravenica."

"I know," responded Nexa quietly, doing her best to suppress her overwhelming feelings of anger and betrayal and return her mind to the present. "For one thing," she added with a faint smile, "Ravenica tells much better jokes."


* * *


"Almost there!" Marcus smiled graciously at his guests as he lead them through an iridescent curtain beaded with dragon scales into the final room of his museum. Hermes, having resumed his place on his master's shoulder, pecked sharply at the curtains as they passed, relishing in the satisfying click of beak striking scale.

Lunch had been relaxing and enjoyable, a welcome relief from the stress of the day that had preceded it. They had spoken some more about Iolaus and relayed everything they knew, which was sorrowfully little, about Nexa and her plan to capture the crime lord. After they had eaten, Marcus had taken a few moments to converse with selected members of his staff, issuing the afternoon's instructions, before leading his new friends on a lengthy excursion through his vast estate.

The tour of Marcus' castle had taken nearly two hours and Jason, who hadn't been extremely keen on the idea in the first place, was at the end of his patience. Even Hercules, who had begun the expedition with giddy, wide-eyed enthusiasm was showing signs of wear and for the last ten rooms or so had been seriously considering just punching his way through the outer wall and leaping out, taking his chances that the drop wouldn't kill him.

While the group had yet to encounter any stairs, they had passed through dozens of rooms in series, all of which had an almost imperceptible rising slope and curved slightly to the right, suggesting that their journey was taking them on an upwards spiral. Based on how long they had been walking and a rough estimate of the castle's outer circumference, Hercules calculated that they were at least three quarters of the way to the top. At this point the only thing that kept the demigod from jumping for freedom was pity for Jason, whom he would have inevitably been forced to leave behind.

Neither Jason nor Hercules were listening as Marcus began to explain in great detail about the origin of a rather morbid looking piece of furniture that served as the centerpiece of the long hall they had just entered. By the alacrity with which he spoke, it was obvious that the piece was one of his favorites and Hermes glared at the two guests, indignant that they should ignore his master's kind, informative lecture.

The object in question was a harshly stylized, wrought iron construct with a high, throne-like back bridging two extremely uncomfortable-looking chairs. It may have been that Marcus, during the course of his lengthy exposition, offered some logical motivation for the impracticality of having the two chairs built back to back, but at this point neither of the boys particularly cared. Marcus was a nice guy and a generous host with a beautiful home, but at the moment they were much more interested in obtaining the promised information on Revilius and getting on with their rescue mission.

Jason frowned and strained his ears to hear above the hum of Marcus' voice, hoping for the welcome sound of footsteps emerging from an adjacent corridor that would signal the head steward's approach. Although they were still well within the time frame Marcus had originally specified, the young king was beginning to feel extremely uneasy about Iolaus' well-being. Moreover, he realized that if *he* was getting anxious, his semi-divine companion must be on the verge of insanity. 'Good thing there aren't any windows in here,' Jason thought to himself with a chuckle, 'otherwise Herc probably would have jumped out an hour ago.'

With a slight sense of trepidation for what he might see, Jason glanced over at the demigod to try and gauge his level of panic. The sight that confronted him was even worse than he had expected. Hercules stood a few paces away, leaning stiffly against a marble pedestal which bore the petrified head of a Gorgon. With one hand he picked distractedly at the marble and, forgetting his strength, had already produced a sizable dent. His other hand was curled into a fist which he regarded with an almost crazed expression and he looked up intermittently to stare at the stone outer wall.

'If he does what I think he's going to do and doesn't take me with him, I'm going to be very upset,' thought Jason grimly. The situation was not looking good. It was time for action.

"Marcus," Jason began, sounding as polite as humanly possible considering he had interrupted the man mid-sentence, "forgive me, but do you think your steward has gotten back with the information on Revilius yet?"

Hermes squawked in affront, but Marcus received the interruption with equanimity. "Not yet," he replied with a comforting smile. "Diakonos knows where to find us when he returns. There's no cause for concern just yet, though. I'm sure your friend, Iolaus, is perfectly safe."

The mention of Iolaus' name broke Hercules out of his trance-like distraction and he turned abruptly to join the conversation, nearly toppling the pillar he had been leaning against, Gorgon's head and all.

"Whoops," he said, blushing as he carefully stabilized the setup. Hercules glanced over at his host and marveled at his valiant attempt not to cringe at the sight of one of his priceless artifacts toppling to the floor. Once the Gorgon's head was safely returned to its place, the demigod ran his hands through his hair nervously and moved to stand at Jason's side. "It's not that we're not enjoying the tour," he said sheepishly, "it's... Well, Jason and I are just worried about Iolaus and we'd kind of like to get going, you know?"

"Oh, don't worry," Marcus assured him, "Jason will be leaving here soon enough." He beamed brightly and handed Hermes a small nut, seemingly materialized from out of nowhere. The bird took the offering in his claw and shook it for a few moments before deciding that it had much better uses than food and hurled it at Hercules.

Taken off guard by the assault, the demigod didn't manage to dodge in time and the nut struck him squarely on the left side of his forehead. "Well that's something, I guess," he said, rubbing the wounded region tenderly and glaring at Hermes. "But what about me?"

Marcus took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. "You," he said pensively, "I think I'd rather keep."


* * *


"Almost there!" Nexa actually smiled as she saw the foreboding silhouette of Revilius' fortress looming over the treetops on the horizon. She took in a deep breath and relished in the exhiliration of the moment. The fun was about to begin. There was no doubt about it: Nexa *liked* bounty hunting. It was full of action and excitement and, occasionally, poetic justice. What she *didn't* like about it was the travel. That was full of spiders and mud pits and, occasionally, flesh-devouring swamp rats. She wasn't a huge fan of spiders and mud pits, and the flesh-devouring swamp rats had been on her "species to eradicate" list for years. As such, the bounty hunter always luxuriated in the final moments of her journeys, breathing in the thrill of anticipation like a fine mist.

"Almost..." responded Iolaus. He, too, was smiling but while he would never have admitted it to his partner, the gesture was principally an attempt to distract himself from the knot of nerves that seemed to be boring its way into his stomach. True, he was in the top condition of his life. He was an exceptional warrior and had, in his time, been an exceptional thief. On the other hand, a few years had passed since his days of petty larceny and he wondered if his long-since abandoned instincts and tricks were still with him. Iolaus swallowed nervously. Well, he was about to find out.

The pair crossed over a ridge and the forest began to thin somewhat, periodically offering them a direct view of the massive cylindrical edifice Revilius called home. The fortress was, to put it lightly, enormous, and as Iolaus felt his confidence sink he scoured his brain for some other form of distraction. Coming up empty, he decided to resort to conversation.

"So," he muttered uncertainly, "um... what's this guy Revilius like anyway?"

"No one really knows," Nexa responded with a shrug, keeping her eyes locked on their forbidding destination. "He keeps pretty much to himself. All I know is that he's a crime lord... Oh, and a fanatical collector."

Laughing, Iolaus raised his eyebrows. "A collector? Of what? Gladiator cards? A hobby like that has *got* to get you beat up at crime lord training camp."

The bounty hunter's eyes suddenly narrowed as she watched the fortress and she motioned for Iolaus to take cover. They sat in silence for a few moments until she had convinced herself that the motion she had perceived in the distance was no threat to them. With an expression of intense seriousness, she took to the trail again, followed closely by her partner. "Actually," she said once they were under way, "Revilius is a collector of all kinds of things. Art... Scrolls... Gems... But he's got a particular passion for rare artifacts. Anything that's hard to come by, he's got it. Especially anything having to do with the gods. Why, I hear he has chalices belonging to almost every deity in the Pantheon!"

"That's clearly a lie," snorted the cadet. "I happen to know first hand that gods get pretty testy about mortals - or even half-mortals, for that matter - stealing their chalices. The gods would mop the floor with him."

"Perhaps they would," mused Nexa, arching an eyebrow, "*if* he didn't have a vial of Hind's blood. That's also purported to be among the items in his collection."

"Hind's blood?" Iolaus gasped. "You mean..."

"Yes. Revilius has the power to kill a god... according to the rumors at least. Anyway, as powerful as the gods are, they're not particularly fond of the prospect of death. As such, their attachment to chalices and other such items seems to wane considerably once said objects fall into the hands of Revilius. Makes for quite a convenient lifestyle for him."

"I'll say," said the young hunter, breathing out in a low whistle. "If you happen to see that Hind's blood while we're in the fortress, let me know and I'll grab it. Could come in pretty useful at the Academy."

Nexa raised her eyebrows inquisitively. "Planning to go hunting for gods?"

Iolaus chuckled. "Nope. But it sure would keep Strife out of our hair."

The prospect of chasing after Strife with a vial of Hind's blood was an appealing one, and Iolaus found his pre-break-in jitters substantially quelled in the levity of the moment. He took a deep breath and looked expectantly at the landscape before him. He and Nexa had reached the periphery of the trees and now stood at the outskirts of a broad, circular clearing at the center of which Revilius' fortress thrust its hulking form skywards, looming like a harbinger of doom.

"Are you sure we've got the right castle?" he asked with a perplexed frown, indicating the fortress' lowered drawbridge. "I thought you said this place would be heavily guarded. Looks deserted from here."

"Yes, that *is* odd," Nexa responded, tapping her thumb pensively against her lower lip, "but I'm positive this is the fortress we're looking for." Shading her eyes against the sun, she scanned the top of the wall for sentries. Like the drawbridge, the castle itself was left wholly unattended. The bounty hunter furrowed her brow and looked over at Iolaus. "You know," she said, "one thing I've learned in this business is that when a job like this looks easy, it's going to be especially dangerous. We've got to stay on our guard."

"So what do you think is happening?" Iolaus bit his lip and glanced worriedly at the fortress.

Nexa frowned. "I'm not sure. Looks like a trap. They're probably suspecting an infiltrator of some sort and are trying to lure him in through the front door. I imagine that half of Revilius' army is waiting just past the threshold. Well, that's good news for us, at least."

"That they're being unusually vigilant?" Iolaus snorted skeptically. "Explain how *that* is good news?"

"Simple. Revilius can't possibly know that *we're* coming, so the trap must be intended for somebody else. His entire staff will be looking out for that poor, unsuspecting jerk, making it that much simpler for us to slip by. Without anyone on sentry duty, we should have no problem making our subtle entrance without getting spotted."

"That reminds me," said Iolaus, eyeing the fortress' smooth, windowless facade, "how exactly do you plan on getting us in there?"

Nexa beamed, a twinkle in her eye. "The drains."

Iolaus winced in disgust. "The drains?!"

"Yep. Look, I never said this job was glamorous. Now let's go while the coast is clear." The bounty hunter hoisted her pack higher up on her shoulder and took off stealthily towards the castle, keeping low enough to the ground to maintain her cover in the tall grass of the clearing. Iolaus followed suit and soon they found themselves standing a few paces from the shore of a broad and offensively squalid moat.

The water in the moat, if it could be rightfully deemed water, was utterly opaque. It sloshed en masse from fortress wall to shore and back again, clinging doggedly to any surface it came into contact with before dripping away with viscous reluctance. The sickening odor it emitted carried a hint of sweetness and the surface was blanketed with a thick, greenish haze.

"Lovely," said Iolaus, wrinkling his nose as he sniffed at the moat dubiously. He took a few steps forward and attempted to peer into the murky waters. "Where are the man-eating sharks?"

"There are no man-eating sharks," snapped Nexa gruffly. "Now get away from there."

Iolaus turned his back to the moat, petulantly placing a hand on each hip. "But you *promised* me man-eating sharks," he complained.

"I did no such thing!" The urgency of the bounty hunter's voice was increasing and she regarded her partner impatiently. "Now, just trust me, you don't want to get anywhere near that... LOOK OUT!"

Before he could register her warning, Iolaus felt himself struck hard in the solar plexus as Nexa dove and knocked him to the ground. As she rolled them both away, he caught sight of a hideous reptilian head, about half the height of a man, lurch through the space he had just been occupying. The brown and green mottled head, like the rest of the serpentine body that was now visible on the surface of the moat, was caked with a thin layer of slime and patches of lichen. Its sharp, under-bit lower jaw bore two ample fangs, easily as tall as the head itself, and three rows of short, saw-like teeth that looked at least as fearsome as their longer, more showy counterparts. As the creature slowly withdrew into the impenetrable depths of the moat, one of its eyes, suspended on the end of a thick stalk which jutted out of the side of its head, glared at them malevolently, stretching towards them as if hoping to attack independently of the rest of its body. The other eye peered at them from the opposite side of the creature's head, straining to get a better look at whatever it was its partner found so interesting.

By the time the moat had returned to its former placid state, Iolaus had almost recovered his breath from the impact. "What in Tartarus was *that*?!" he gasped, gaping at his partner who still lay protectively on top of him.

Nexa shrugged and rolled away, getting smoothly to her feet in one quick, graceful motion. "Not sure. It's too big to be an eel."

"Yeah," said Iolaus, accepting his partner's hand as she helped him up, "well it's too small to be a sea monster."

"Sure, but if you catch a baby sea monster and put it in a moat like that it probably won't grow to its full size. Besides, did you see its teeth? It *has* to be a sea monster."

"If you say so..." Iolaus shuddered at the recollection of the creature's hideous aspect.

"Well, anyway," said Nexa, staring up at the castle's facade and then walking along the shore for several paces, "it doesn't matter what it is. Suffice it to say that it's nastier than it looks."

The cadet just shook his head and followed, still not quite recovered from the incident. "So, did you actually know about that thing ahead of time?"

The bounty hunter turned to face him in surprise. "Of course," she stated matter-of-factly. "What do you think ate the *last* guy that tried this?" With a slight snort, she took a few more steps along the shore and stopped next to a fair-sized stone. Squinting up at the fortress, she began pawing through her pack and then bit her lip, rolling her eyes skywards as she did a few calculations in her head.

"What are you doing?" Iolaus asked, taking a few deep breaths to finally bring his heart rate back down to a reasonable level.

"I," responded Nexa as she loaded a bolt decisively into the larger of her two crossbows, "am breaking us in." Without taking her eyes off of Iolaus she fired the crossbow, smiling with delight when she glanced up at the fortress to see that her shot had hit its mark perfectly. At her feet lay a substantial length of chain, the other end of which stretched over the moat to a seemingly arbitrary point halfway up the castle wall. The bounty hunter tossed her partner a quick wink before drawing a large hammer and a pronged spike out of her pack. Pulling the chain taut, she threaded the spike through one of its links and with two deft strokes hammered it into the stone.

"We're climbing up *that*?" Iolaus frowned dubiously at the disturbing lack of apparent fortitude of the chain. "Are you sure it will hold us?"

"Yep, but just barely." Nexa closed her pack and hoisted it over her shoulder, looking down at the hammer and testing its weight in her hand. "At least, I hope so. If the rest of your body is as thick as your head, we might be in trouble."

"Oh, ha, ha," chided the cadet, "this is a fine time for you to discover humor."

Nexa smiled and offered her partner a slight shrug. "What can I say? My timing is impeccable. Now are you ready? We've got to climb quickly, or the sea monster will get an unexpected afternoon snack. It can't jump very high out of the water, but we've got to make sure we're nowhere near it when it does."

Iolaus closed his eyes and summoned his focus. "I'm ready," he said after a deep breath.

"Okay," replied Nexa with a sharp nod. Taking one last look at the hammer she hurled it into the moat, as far away as she possibly could. Immediately after the splash a solitary eye jutted out of the water, looking around briefly before it disappeared again. The thickened water of the moat began to ripple sluggishly as the creature took off in the direction of the hammer's impact.

"Now!" cried Nexa. Taking a few steps to gain momentum, she flung herself forward and grasped the chain, immediately climbing hand over hand towards the fortress. Iolaus followed her lead, leaping for the chain, but losing his grip with his right hand. After just a few moments of suspension over the moat, the chain had become coated with a slick, transparent slime which made it very difficult to maintain a solid grip. He managed to recover and tried to edge his way forwards, but if anything began to slide backwards slightly. He was too close to the moat. Iolaus realized that higher up, the chain would not be anywhere near as slippery, that if he could just make it a few paces forward he would be safe, but that prospect became dimmer and dimmer as he felt the thick haze coat his own skin with a greasy film as it diffused up from the water's surface.

Knowing that panicking would only make things worse, Iolaus tried to suppress his fears and focus his determination. This task, however, was made significantly more difficult as he heard the sickly hiss of the sea monster, apparently having dealt appropriately with the offending hammer, slithering along the water's surface towards him. The air around him tensed as the creature prepared to attack, and when it sprang towards him Iolaus pulled his whole body upwards, hoping to give himself just enough altitude to evade the vicious jaws. Unfortunately, the effort was not quite sufficient, and the cadet felt a stab of pain as the ball of his left foot was pierced by one of the beast's gruesome fangs. He tried to gasp, but the breath caught in his throat, sending a jarring impact through his lungs and stomach. All Iolaus could think about was that he had to maintain his grip on to the chain. No matter what.

Dangling from the chain several paces above him, Nexa looked on with concern, desperate for some way to help her partner. In hopes of pulling him to safety, she began cautiously backing towards him.

"No! Stop!" yelled Iolaus sharply. "It's too slippery down here. You'll bring us both down."

"Well what am I supposed to do?" the bounty hunter cried in response, her voice fraught with helpless frustration.

"Nothing. Just keep going. I can make it." The words had originally been uttered merely as an empty reassurance, but Iolaus now found that his grip was somewhat sturdier. With a relieved sigh, he realized that the upwards momentum he had gained from the creature's attack had propelled him far enough that he could actually begin making progress on his climb.

As Iolaus began to inch forward, Nexa looked back at him thankfully. The sea monster had vanished and the moat was once again deceptively placid. They were engulfed by an odd silence, and the only sound Iolaus could hear was the faint plunk as drops of blood fell from his wounded foot and connected with the glassy surface of the water. It was a chilling calm, but they pressed forwards, anxious for the security of solid ground beneath their feet.

Suddenly, the chain was jarred with an unnatural vibration and Nexa and Iolaus looked back in horror to see that the sea monster had somehow managed to leap onto the chain and was now entwining its snake-like body around it. The afternoon sun reflected dully off of its moist skin and its body rippled eerily as it crept towards them, closing the distance at an alarming rate. Iolaus swallowed hard and tried to accelerate his pace, but could tell by the increasing amount of slack from above that the bolt that secured them to the fortress was beginning to buckle under the strain.

"It can't support all this weight," Nexa cried, looking apologetically over her shoulder. "We're going down."

Iolaus frowned grimly. "Yeah," he said, "I figured."

"Look, when we hit the water, we're going to have to separate: you go left and I go right. It won't be able to catch both of us before we get to shore, so one of us might make it out of this alive."

Wincing, the cadet realized that the sea monster wasn't his only problem. "I can't swim," he barked.

Narrowing her eyes, Nexa regarded her partner soberly. "Believe me," she said, "with that thing after you, you'll learn quick. Now brace yourself!"

Squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath, Iolaus followed his partner's command. Moments later there was a resounding splash and he opened his eyes, realizing with surprise that it hadn't been him that had fallen. He looked up at Nexa and saw that she, too, still hung securely... for the moment at least... from the chain. Behind him, the sea monster appeared equally puzzled by the noise and its eyes stretched obstinately in opposite directions, each hoping to win the glory of being the first to discover the source of the splash. The creature looked up at Iolaus for a moment, torn by indecision, before deftly leaping off of the chain, disentangling itself with surprising agility, and speeding off in pursuit of the moat's newest intruder.

With no little relief, Iolaus and Nexa continued their ascension hastily. They could now clearly see the crossbow bolt dangling tenuously above a modest opening in the fortress wall which had been utterly invisible from the ground. The bounty hunter was just reaching for the ledge when the bolt gave out, leaving the chain and its cargo to fend for themselves mid-air. With inhuman reflexes, Nexa managed to catch the ledge with her left hand and the chain with her right.

Iolaus' fall was halted abruptly when Nexa seized the chain and he tried to push the sickness brought on by the dizzying altitude to the back of his mind as he carefully climbed up to the opening. He grasped the ledge and hauled himself up into a highly constrictive tunnel which gave him barely enough room to turn around and offer a hand to his partner, helping her to safety.

Once securely inside the drain, Nexa peered over the edge at the surface of the moat far below, which still rippled from the impact of the chain where she had dropped it. "Well," she said, glancing over at her partner with a relieved smile, "at least we're done with the easy part."


* * *


"Disgusting." Autolycus peered into the obsidian waters and shook his head ruefully. Standing at the edge of the moat, the thief was steeling himself for the most lucrative theft of his life, but found his focus dwindling in the reek of the glutinous fluid. He couldn't *believe* he was actually going to have to dive into that stuff. Again.

Unfortunately, the underwater grate that lead into the castle's submerged dungeon was the only way he knew of to effect an entrance. While the thief had become exceedingly adept at bluffing his way into fortresses and palaces through the front gate, he could not take that risk now: not when the guards were actually *expecting* a break in. As such, he had no other choice but to use the same route he and his partner had employed the first time he had made off with the Star of Norn. Swimming in through the moat was about as unglamorous as an entrance could get but it had worked before and it would again. At least it was better than scrambling through a drain. *That* was the lowest of low.

With a resigned sigh, Autolycus fished around in his tunic and produced a flat, transparent piece of crystal to which he had affixed a circular strip of tough leather. Placing the apparatus over his eyes, he used another two strips of leather to fasten it tightly to his face. He turned away from the moat and took a few last breaths of fresh air, fortifying himself with the thought that the next time he would be outside these castle walls, he'd be patting himself on the back with the Star of Norn in one hand and the Accadian Fire Ruby in the other.

At last ready to take the plunge, the Prince of Thieves took a few quick steps to gain momentum and dove into the moat, doing a triple somersault mid-air as he did so to add a bit of panache to his otherwise low-brow entrance. He immediately made his way to the mire-coated fortress wall and began feeling his way along it several paces below the surface, looking for the worn ridge that hung just above the dungeon grate. His mask was little help as the water was far too murky to see, but it *would* come in handy when he had to pick the rather tricky lock on the iron gate that barred his entrance to the dungeon once inside the moat grate.

"Ah ha!" said Autolycus through closed teeth when his fingers brushed nimbly across the chipped corner of the ledge. His words were muffled by the thick water but his voice resonated loudly in his head, the sound seeming to emanate from inside his ears. The thief dove deeper and gripped the thick bars of the grate, working it loose with substantial effort. He braced his legs against the castle wall and with one final pull yanked the grate free, releasing it to sink sluggishly to the floor of the moat.

'Well,' thought Autolycus, 'this is it. One more breath of air and we're going in.' He pushed off against the lower ledge where the grate had been, propelling himself upwards and letting the water do the rest of the work as he buoyed to the surface. When he broke through the plane, the thief took a deep breath and unsuccessfully tried to shake some of the viscous moat water out of his hair. Suddenly he sensed that he was being watched and slowly turned away from the wall, blinking in alarm at the sight that confronted him.

Several paces in front of him was an enormous... thing. Its thick body jutted almost a dozen paces out of the water, concealing no doubt countless more lengths beneath. The creature regarded Autolycus curiously, and as it cocked its head to the side its stalked eyes remained level with the horizontal. And then there was the teeth. Autolycus didn't even want to *think* about the teeth.

Suddenly, the creature seemed to make up its mind about the newcomer and hurled itself directly at him. The thief dove out of the way, barely managing to elude the attack, and gazed up at the human skull-sized eye above him which clenched in pain as the monster's blunt forehead struck the fortress wall.

'Well, that's new,' thought Autolycus grimly. The creature drew back and shook its head violently, trying to recover from the shock of impact. Knowing he had to take advantage of this temporary respite, the thief availed himself of the closest thing he had to a weapon: his grappling hook. Holding himself steady against the castle wall, he spun the grappling hook over his head a couple of times and let it fly at the still dazed monster. As usual, Autolycus struck his mark perfectly and the hook wrapped itself around the creature's jaw three or four times, clamping it conveniently closed.

"Now what?" asked Autolycus, looking first at the thin rope in his hands and then at the enormous creature it harnessed. The answer was immediately forthcoming as the monster recovered from its daze and, suddenly aware that it couldn't open its mouth, began to flail wildly, carrying the thief along with it.

As he flew through the air chaotically, Autolycus tightened his grip on the rope and began pulling himself towards the creature's head. He wasn't sure what he was going to do once he got there, but it would certainly be safer than being yanked about like a toy on the end of a string. He nearly lost his hold on the rope when the writhing creature flung him against the fortress wall, but managed to recover his senses just as his last finger was about to let go. Finally, he managed to reach his destination and straddled the monster's jaw, gripping tightly with his legs and grasping the two tall fangs for further security.

Despite the amount of energy it was expending, the panicked creature showed no signs of tiring and continued to thrash about violently, causing the murky waters that surrounded it to generate a turbid brown froth. In contrast to its body, interestingly enough, the monster's eyes were coping with the situation with a modicum of sanity. When they noticed Autolycus seated comfortably on their jaw, they made the astute assumption that he was the cause of their current predicament. The eyes looked at each other and blinked, nodding in agreement before clamping shut and lunging forward to pummel Autolycus brutally in the back.

Autolycus had been completely unprepared for this unlikely assault and in his surprise he loosened his grip with his legs and let go of the fangs, swatting behind him to ward off the ocular assailants. One final buck of the creature's head did the trick, sending the thief hurtling several stories into the sky.

Suddenly cognizant that he was mid-air, hovering momentarily at the peak of his trajectory, and realizing that the trip down was going to be substantially more unpleasant than the trip up, Autolycus looked around him frantically in hope of a plan for salvation. His search revealed that he had, in fact, been flung over the unscaleable stone wall and would shortly be plummeting to the ground within the confines of the fortress' conical interior.

"Hmmm..." said Autolycus thoughtfully as he reached into the back of his tunic and produced a second grappling hook. "This is doable. Good thing I carry two of these."

As he fell, the thief wound up his grappling hook, noting with amusement that the sentries he had seen disappear earlier were actually crouching down at the battlement so they couldn't be seen from the ground. They peered through narrow slots which allowed them to survey the land that surrounded the fortress at a distance, but did not permit enough breadth of view in the vertical for them to see the moat. They obviously had been completely oblivious to his encounter with the sea monster and as a result, none of the men even noticed the Prince of Thieves' neighborly wave as he dropped silently past.

Selecting one of the upper-tier balconies, Autolycus calmly threw his grappling hook, wincing slightly at the burn as the rope slid a small distance through his hands once it pulled taut. His fall stopped, the thief silently landed on the inner wall of the fortress feet-first, cushioning the impact with his knees. He swung deftly into one of the nearby balconies and disengaged his grappling hook from the level above, tucking it daintily into his left sleeve.

"There," said Autolycus, straightening his tunic with a self-satisfied smile. "Just like I planned."


* * *


"What exactly do you *mean* you'd rather 'keep me?'" Hercules glared suspiciously at Marcus, who smiled back at him demurely, completely unaffronted by the inquiry. Before he had a chance to respond, however, the door at the other end of the room flew open and a dozen armed men came streaming through. Hercules recognized their leader by the jagged scar across his cheek and realized that these were the same thugs they had fought that morning. Jason drew his sword just as another group of warriors arrived through the side door.

"Watch out!" yelled Hercules, instinctively reaching out and pushing Marcus behind him.

"It's okay," replied Marcus calmly, "they're with me." With a sudden motion he seized the back of Hercules' jerkin and flung the startled demigod into the bizarre chair they had been examining. Immediately, a metal strip clamped down over the cadet's lap and he found that he was unable to get free. While the restraint was loose-fitting, it pressed him into the chair with some invisible, insurmountable force.

"Traitor!" yelled Jason, lunging at Marcus with his sword. The young king's blade never hit its target, however, as the thugs swarmed over him before he could slay his generous host. At Marcus' command, the goons forced Jason, still struggling violently, into the available seat in the chair. Once the two prisoners were securely restrained back to back in the grotesque apparatus, Marcus dismissed the warriors, instructing the leader to post two guards at each entrance.

"Traitor?" mused Marcus innocently once his peons had departed, standing back so he could admire both of his captives at once, "I think not. Your friend is the one that's trying to kill me, after all. I'm merely acting in self-defense."

"You?!" Jason's voice was rife with wounded astonishment. He had thought something was a bit odd about their host but had never suspected the secret he harbored was anything so vile... or dangerous. "So then *you're*..."

"Marcus," the young man replied with a dazzling smile, "Marcus Revilius. Pleased to meet you, Jason."

"Call me 'Your Highness,'" Jason snorted bitterly.

Hercules was just recovering from the shock of betrayal. "So," he managed to stammer, "that means you're..."

"The Bad Guy? Well, I suppose, but I don't believe in imposing such generic social roles on people. It's so narrow-minded and restrictive, don't you think?"

"So this morning you..."

"Were fighting my own men. Correct. Keeps me fit and them humble, I find."

"And you actually..."

"Killed my own father? Well, it was unavoidable, I'm afraid."

Jason growled in frustration. "You're..."

"A psychopath? Yes. I believe that's what people are calling it these days."

"Psychopath!" squawked Hermes, jumping up and down on his master's shoulder in excitement.

Hercules was still processing the significance of the events of the last few moments, and was suddenly struck with a new and horrible thought. "So if you're Revilius," he whispered, "Iolaus is..."

"Walking right into my trap. I'm afraid so. My goodness, you two are good at this game!" Marcus smiled with calm benevolence and approached Hercules, leaving Jason to crane his neck just to get a glimpse of the conversation.

"Just try and see it from my perspective," Marcus pleaded, gently laying his hand on Hercules' shoulder. "You're friend and that bounty hunter of his are coming to kill me. *I'm* the victim here." He raised his eyebrows hopefully, but received no sympathy from the enraged demigod.

"I'm thinking you deserve it," hissed Jason from the other side of the chair.

With a wounded expression, Marcus clicked his tongue at the young king. "Oh, I'm sure you don't mean that," he declared, sniffling slightly. "Besides, that bounty hunter is the *real* villain, not me. She's tried this before, you know... broke in and made off with half of my treasury. Then she went and betrayed her partner. A very messy business, that." He shook his head and grimaced mournfully.

Hercules closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. He *knew* there was something sinister about that bounty hunter. He should never have let Iolaus go off with her alone. "You just *had* to have lunch, didn't you, Jason?" he grumbled through the back of his chair. "We could have caught up with them otherwise."

Jason's jaw dropped and he blinked in affront. "Oh, no," he protested, "don't you go blaming this on *me*, Mister 'Sure, Mysterious Stranger, we'll go back to your castle with you so you can capture us.' This one's all you."

"Boys, boys!" cried Marcus, clasping his hands together in concern. "You can't go blaming yourselves for this. Your friend should just learn not to be quite so trusting of strangers, that's all. One must be terribly careful about whom one picks as friends nowadays."

"Tell me about it," snorted Hercules.

"Oh, not that I meant to impugn either you or His Highness," the crime lord added, walking dreamily around the chair until he was in front of Jason. "You two have been the picture of gentility... well, except when His Highness tried to run me through with his sword. I would have thought that the leader of Corinth would be trained to employ a somewhat more prudent form of diplomacy. Never mind, though, we each have our little flaws, don't we?" He winked at the infuriated young king who struggled violently against his bonds despite being perfectly aware that it was a futile gesture.

Marcus grinned as he watched Jason struggle. "Like those chains?" he asked casually. "They're forged by Hephaestus; work as well on gods as they do on demigods and kings. I never thought I'd actually get to use them, though. Isn't it wonderful how life is full of these delightful little surprises?"

"Yeah," sneered Jason, "Right. A dream. Now, look, why don't you just let us go? We'll find Iolaus and talk him out of it, no harm done."

Marcus laughed graciously as if Jason had actually intended the statement to be a joke. "Oh, I wouldn't hear of it. You boys are much more valuable to me here for two *very* important reasons."

"Oh yeah?" spat Hercules defiantly. "And what are those?"

"Well," responded the crime lord, pacing thoughtfully around his captives as he spoke, "first of all, I already *know* how your friends will be getting in here. That bounty hunter thinks I'm unaware of her 'secret' entrance through the dungeon but when she and her partner emerge from the underwater tunnel, half of my castle guard will be waiting for them. That is, of course, if Hestia doesn't get them first."

"Who's Hestia?" asked Jason sharply, unsure whether he really wanted the answer.

Beaming, as if hoping all along that someone would ask that, Marcus responded eagerly. "I'm not sure exactly *what* she is," he said with a wistful sigh. "Some kind of stunted sea creature, I think. Or maybe a giant eel. She sure does like to eat intruders, though."

Hercules glared at his captor. "Does the *real* Hestia know you've got some midget monster named after her? I don't think she'd be too happy..."

"Remember," Marcus reminded him, "she *could* be a giant eel. And in response to your question, yes she probably does know but the gods have a delightful tendency of letting me get away with things like that. Besides, I don't know what that goddess would have to complain about. At least *my* Hestia is a virgin... at least I *think* she is..." The crime lord knitted his brow pensively, pondering this important new question.

"Okay, okay," said Hercules hastily, anxious to get on with things, "so they'll be devoured by your virgin sea monster. So what's the other reason you need us here?"

"I told you before," responded Marcus, "I'm keeping you for my collection."

"Keeping me? You don't mean *keeping* me. You mean *KEEPING* me?"

"Of course," said the young man frankly, "a Son of Zeus is a hot commodity in the collection business. My rival collector in Thrace is going to be *so* jealous!" A wicked grin played about his lips as he relished in the triumph of his new acquisition.

"What about me?" asked Jason, hoping that a change of subject would keep the demigod from hyperventilating.

Marcus regarded him apologetically. "Well," he said, "no offense, Your Highness, but I'd rather not keep *you*. Fledgling kings are a dinar a dozen these days, even ones as noble and heroic as yourself. The Golden Fleece, however, now *that* is a prize. I'm sorry if this hurts your feelings, but I'm planning on trading you in."

"You're ransoming me for the Golden Fleece?!" gasped Jason, aghast.

"Absolutely. It will look *marvelous* on the floor in front of the fireplace in my bedchamber. And speaking of the Fleece, I'd better go send a message off to Corinth. Now to whom would you suggest I address the message?"

The young king was too horrified to reply and Hercules was still gibbering over the prospect of becoming a museum exhibit.

"Well," said Marcus with disappointment once it became evident that he would not get a response, "it doesn't matter. When a palace receives word that its king has been taken hostage, the message usually finds its way to the appropriate individuals quickly enough."

Marcus made his way to the side door and then paused, fishing a cracker out of his robe and handing it to the bird on his shoulder. "You stay here, Hermes," he said, "and keep these nice boys company." Bowing with a flourish, the crime lord departed, leaving Hercules and Jason to mull over their predicament in peace.

Well maybe not *quite* in peace. Hermes flapped over to the captives and alighted on the tall chair-back between them. Holding his cracker over Hercules' head, he began to devour it with deliberate sloppiness, sending a cascade of crumbs to rain down on the miserable demigod.

Jason snorted grimly. "It's a good thing we showed up to rescue Iolaus," he said, his voice dripping with irony, "otherwise he might have gotten into trouble."


* * *


"I *can't* believe you're bringing this up at a time like this." Nexa huffed irritably as she crept forward along the narrow stone passageway. They were traveling single file in the confines of the drain and were completely engulfed in darkness. There wasn't even enough light for the bounty hunter to make out a dim outline of Iolaus' boots just ahead of her but that didn't keep her from glaring at them disdainfully.

"What?" asked Iolaus, a hint of indignity in his voice.

"I can't believe you're critiquing my social graces while we're on our hands and knees crawling along a slimy, disgusting drain. A *drain*."

Iolaus snorted. "Oh, like we have anything *better* to do while we're crawling through a drain? Perhaps you'd like to teach me the newest Athenian dance craze." He attempted a facetious shimmy but since the passageway was actually slightly narrower than his shoulders, the effect was principally lost.

Suddenly the cadet was distracted by a distant noise and stopped inching forward, causing Nexa to unwittingly press her face against the bottom of his boot. "Hey!" complained the bounty hunter as she hastily wiped a clump of a thick, sticky substance - she didn't want to know what - off of her cheek. "What's the big idea?"

"Shhh!" hissed Iolaus, straining his ears. A faint gurgle seemed to be emanating from somewhere in the darkness ahead of them. Gradually it got louder and soon the gurgle transformed into a distinct slosh. "Incoming!" he shouted, covering his head with his arms.

Moments later, the wave hit. It was brief but disgusting in duration, and when it was over Iolaus reached up and picked a few limp, stringy vegetable strands out of his hair. "Lovely," he said, wiping his lips on the inside of his vest, "apparently *somebody* had leek soup for lunch."

"Be grateful that came from the kitchen," snorted Nexa, fishing some soggy parsley out of her top and flinging it to the ground in a wet clump. "We're in a drain. It could have been a *lot* worse."

"If you say so," said the young hunter with a shudder. He *really* didn't want to think about it. "So as I was saying... about your bedside manner..."

Nexa pushed the soup-soaked hair out of her eyes, sighing in frustration. "Are we *still* on that subject?!"

"Look," Iolaus said, pressing himself against the left wall of the passageway to avoid crawling through an unidentifiable gelatinous blob, "all I'm saying is that the fact that you kill people for a living doesn't mean you can't be civil."

Nexa swore under her breath as she crept forward and accidentally put her hand directly into the pile of ooze that Iolaus had deftly avoided. As she shook the thick substance off of her skin, she fervently hoped that some of it had hit her partner. She took a deep, restorative breath before continuing forward. "You say, 'kill people for a living' like it's a bad thing," she said indignantly.

Iolaus raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying it's not?"

With a shrug, the bounty hunter reached forward and patted her partner's boot. "All I'm saying is that it's a pretty ironic statement coming from a cadet at Cheiron's Warrior Academy. What do they teach you there? Pottery? Basket weaving? By the way, there should be an opening coming up on your right."

"I think I've found it," said Iolaus, "it's significantly narrower than this passageway, though."

"Good," replied Nexa with a nod, "that means it's the right one. Go on in. It shouldn't be too much further now."

The cadet crawled into the new passageway and found that he had to angle himself diagonally just to fit inside. The new crawlway was significantly drier than the one they had just been in, implying that it would eventually open up into one of the less frequently used rooms in the fortress. It was almost a shame, actually: a good coating of slime might have made their progress a little quicker.

Once Iolaus heard Nexa struggling along the tunnel behind him he continued the conversation. "Of course we don't learn basket-weaving, but you just can't make that comparison. What *we* you and what *you* do are completely different."

"I couldn't agree more," said Nexa, grunting slightly with the exertion of pulling herself through the smaller space, "but let's hear *your* explanation."

"At the Academy we learn to fight... to kill... for a noble cause. We kill to help and protect people; we kill for justice. But you? You just kill." Iolaus winced as his lower shoulder connected with a sharp rock lodged in the corner of the passageway. "Watch out, there's a rough spot here."

"Thanks," responded the bounty hunter, feeling her way slowly along the passage until she encountered the obstruction her partner had mentioned and then carefully negotiating her way around it. "You're right, Iolaus. I just kill. But at least I can do my job with the knowledge that the people *I* kill deserve what they get. They're all brutal criminals, crime lords, murderers. I finish with them and they're in the express lane to Tartarus. But you? Who do *you* kill in those 'just' wars of yours?"

"We kill the enemy. That's what war is."

"Sure," spat Nexa with a bitter laugh, "but the man you kill is only the enemy to *you*. In truth, he's just an ordinary man, loyal to his kingdom. He's just like you, except for the fact that he probably has a wife and kids back home who will see their last decent meal the day you run your sword through his gut. He's just another man who will join the throngs of the fallen innocent that populate the Elysian Fields. Now *you* tell *me*: which of us is the one killing for justice and which one of us 'just kills?'"

Iolaus frowned, wondering how an innocent discussion of his partner's interpersonal skills had become twisted into an attack on the morality of his chosen way of life. He squinted and noticed that for the first time since they entered the drain he could actually see his own hand, dimly illuminated from somewhere up ahead. Finally, they would be able to get out of this miserable drain... but not, apparently, before concluding their debate. "You just don't get it, Nexa," he muttered. "War is about fighting for the greater good. You can't consider the individual or the significance is lost."

"Perhaps. All I know is that I couldn't sleep at night knowing I'd taken the life of an innocent man. For me, no just cause is worth that."

Iolaus stopped and bowed his head to look down the passageway at the bounty hunter. There was just enough light to see by now and her face was earnest, but free of judgment. "All, I'm saying," she said, "is that before you become a warrior for real you should take a good, long look at what that *really* means. This isn't about whether *I* could sleep at night after taking an innocent life. It's about whether *you* could."

As they reached the end of the corridor, the cadet still had no response to the challenge his partner had set forth but was secure in the knowledge that one was neither required nor even expected. He pulled himself out of the drain, which was situated in an out of the way corner of a hexagonal chamber about ten paces on each side, and stood, wincing in pain as he put weight on his wounded foot for the first time since the injury. Favoring his right side, he leaned over slightly to offer a hand to his partner as she, too, emerged from the rather inconspicuous hole in the floor.

"Where are we?" Iolaus asked, looking around the sparsely furnished room in puzzlement. It contained only a desk and a small cot, and in one corner rested a suit of armor and a solitary sword.

"This is Revilius' inner sanctum," Nexa replied, wiping her hands along the thighs of her leather pants before using them to smooth back her hair. "It's for emergencies, you know, in case the fortress ever gets invaded by an angry mob or something. But more importantly, it's the only way into the main castle that isn't going to be crawling with guards."

Iolaus frowned and glanced around the room skeptically. "I probably shouldn't ask, but why, exactly is that?"

"Because of the booby traps." Nexa flashed her partner a playful smile as she brushed past him towards the wide iron door at the other side of the chamber.

"Oh," muttered the former thief, throwing up his arms. "Booby traps. Of course. You know, I should have known. If this place were *just* revolting drains and hideous monsters, simply *everyone* would be breaking in." He stepped beside his partner as she took hold of the heavy ring that adorned the vast iron door and began to pull.

"I think it's stuck," she gasped after struggling for a few moments. "Give me a hand, will you?"

Iolaus compliantly grabbed the ring and braced his good foot firmly against the floor. It took several moments of strenuous effort from the pair working in concert before, with painstaking sluggishness, the door swung open. The instant the passage beyond was fully revealed to the room, however, there was a loud clunk and a sound which approximated the frenzy of dueling serpents as an array of barbed darts flew from the wall opposite the entrance into the corridor with blistering speed. From behind the door, Iolaus and Nexa blinked at each other with a combination of relief and alarm.

"Think those were poisoned?" he asked, grimacing as he examined one of the darts that had bounced off of the molding and skittered to the floor.

The bounty hunter shrugged. "Doesn't matter. If they hit you, you don't live long enough to find out."

Cautiously glancing around the room in search of other potential traps, the pair approached the corridor. Peering inside, they could see that it was a straight shot to the next door, one hundred... maybe one hundred fifty paces away. Whether that door lead to the interior of the fortress or yet another series of traps they could not tell but at this point it didn't really matter. They had to press forward.

"After you, Madam Bounty Hunter," said Iolaus, gesturing gallantly at the corridor with a low, sweeping bow.

"Thanks," snorted Nexa, stepping forward to examine the wall immediately inside the corridor. She ran her finger lightly along an almost invisible crack in the wall and then leaned in, using the more sensitive skin on her lips to detect a hint of air wafting through the opening. Pulling back, she looked over at Iolaus with a pensive nod. "These walls are designed to close in as you're walking through the passageway," she said. "I can feel the breeze from the chamber behind them."

"Can we get past?" Iolaus looked up at the walls, a concerned frown darkening his countenance.

"Yeah," replied the bounty hunter with a smile, "no problem. The one thing we have going for us here is that these traps were designed to prevent people from *entering* the inner sanctum, not leaving it. So we'll be finding all the traps before we find the triggers. As long as we're careful and keep as close to each other as possible we should get through this just fine."

"Whatever you say, Boss," said Iolaus with a shrug and, following his partner's lead, stepped carefully into the passageway.

They traveled a significant distance before encountering the trigger that caused the walls to close in on each other. The pair had tried to broad jump over the trigger in hopes of leaving the passageway open as a possible escape route, but it spanned too long a stretch of corridor and as they struck it the walls moaned closed, rasping harshly against the stone floor. Iolaus and Nexa paused for a moment to watch the passage shrink into non-existence, wincing involuntarily at the resounding thud as the walls closed with a foreboding finality.

"Good trap," mused Nexa with a low, appreciative whistle. "It's much too long to traverse before it closes on you, and even if you manage to avoid getting crushed by the walls, you're stuck on this side and can't get past. That, alone, would suffice to stop any invading hostiles."

Breath drawn in, they proceeded slowly, scanning the surfaces of the corridor for an indication
of the next set of traps. They had only gone a couple of paces when Nexa held her arm out in front of Iolaus, barring his progress. The gesture was unnecessary, though: he had seen the signs too.

Several long, vertical slots flanked the passageway ahead of them and Nexa crouched down to examine the first of them at its base. "These are probably bladed pendula," she said thoughtfully. "They're closely spaced, too, so you can't stand between them. This guy *really* knows what he's doing."

Iolaus peered down the corridor to where the series of slots finally ended, a disheartening distance away. "This looks like it would be *impossible* to time," he said.

"It most likely is," the bounty hunter responded. "They're probably triggered individually so you don't even have a chance to get a sense of the rhythm. We can make it through, though. You see how this slot ends slightly above the floor? The pendula travel in an arc, which means that if we keep to our stomachs and crawl along as close to the corner as possible we should be safe."

Iolaus frowned, scrutinizing the floor and walls. His hunter's instincts told him that something was not quite right. "Wait," he whispered to his partner, who was already on her stomach preparing to venture ahead. At his word, she halted her progress, looking up at him in puzzlement.

The young hunter knelt down beside Nexa and pressed gently against the ground in front of her. The entirety of the floor displaced at his touch, swinging slightly downwards at the edge of the wall where he had applied the pressure, and ramping up across the corridor to where the floor at the opposite wall had been displaced upwards by an equal amount. "Just like I thought," said Iolaus with a consternated frown, "this whole part of the corridor is set on a giant fulcrum at the middle. If we stack too much weight on either side, we'll upset the balance and drop down to the level below. If that happens, I'm pretty sure we're dead."

Exhaling sharply, Nexa contemplated the situation for a few moments. "We're going to have to split up," she pronounced. "Here, give me your pack, we'll need it to balance the weight."

Shouldering the offered bag, Nexa returned to her stomach and positioned herself at the threshold of the hinged floor. At the other side of the corridor Iolaus did likewise and with an exchanged nod of agreement they edged forward.

Their progress was slow and shaky and it took them quite some time to find their proper balance, frequently having to catch themselves on the stone walls to keep the floor from tipping and sending them plummeting to some unknown doom. After a while, however, they got the hang of it and pushed forwards with more stability and confidence, able to sense when the balance was slightly off and adjust for it nearly instantaneously.

Once they had passed the third slot on the wall, the pendula were triggered, three ahead and three behind. Iolaus winced as he heard one of the razor sharp blades whistle over his head. "If I lose any more hair on this mission," he said, stealing a glance at his partner, "I'm going to be very upset with you."

"Don't talk," she hissed, "it makes your ribcage expand and we don't have that kind of room to give. Gods, I'm glad I didn't pick that beefy king friend of yours to be my partner. He'd be mincemeat by now and I'd be lying mangled at the bottom of a pit."

"Not at all," Iolaus quipped, "you'd both still be stuck in the drain. Jason *never* would have fit through that tiny crawl space. If you'd picked Hercules, on the other hand, that wouldn't be a problem. You two would probably still be wandering around in the woods somewhere trying to find North." The cadet started to snicker despite his best effort not to, but the pain of one of the pendula grazing the top of his shoulder blade brought him back to sobriety. The wound was shallow, barely a scratch, really, but it made the reality of the situation come thundering down.

They continued to inch along the corridor in silence, triggering new deadly blades as they passed each slot on the wall. Iolaus tried to concentrate solely on keeping himself as small as possible and maintaining the tenuous balance of the hinged floor but a thought at the back of his head was nagging at him. The mention of his friends had struck a worrying chord. Both Hercules and Jason had disapproved of his taking on this job and he had fully expected them to show up and try to talk him out of it, but there had been no sign of them. Not that *that* was a surprise, there's no way those two could have kept up with him and Nexa in the woods, but that wouldn't have stopped them from trying. Yes, they would almost certainly have come to Oeniadea with some ridiculous plan to save him. Iolaus sighed. The dogged protectiveness of his friends was as irritating as it was endearing, but at least it was harmless... most of the time. The young hunter winced, suddenly remembering that Hercules and Jason were the only ones that knew about the planned raid on the fortress. That, combined with their likely presence in Oeniadea and the fact that Revilius was clearly expecting an attack of some kind spelled trouble. Big trouble.

Iolaus pushed past the final pendulum with a heavy heart, rising slowly once he and Nexa were clear of the delicately balanced floor.

"What is it?" asked the bounty hunter, deducing from her partner's countenance that he had more on his mind than merely preventing his own death.

"It's my friends," Iolaus sighed mournfully, "I think they might be..."

"Here?" suggested Nexa. "Yeah, I suspected as much. I knew there had to be *something* up if Revilius didn't have any guards posted, and what's the likelihood of there being *two* attacks on this fortress in one day? Not to mention the fact that that skinny blonde kid looks at you like he's your mother or something. Let me guess: they came charging in to rescue you."

"Probably, yeah."

"Well if Revilius knows about us that probably means he's captured them somehow. This will make our job slightly more complicated, but it can still be done. We'll just have to clear a little more space on our agenda for rescuing their sorry hides." Nexa stepped forward and began to inspect the corridor ahead for the next set of traps, but Iolaus caught her arm.

"Thanks," he said with an apologetic smile.

"Don't mention it," the bounty hunter replied. "Just make sure they get a stern talking-to when this is all over, okay?"

The pair continued on through several more sequences of traps, each of them feeling that the corridor must be some sort of optical illusion that was substantially longer than it had initially appeared. Above and beyond the usual flames, spears and darts, they encountered some particularly nasty spring-loaded floors designed to fling trespassers directly into a wall of barbed spikes, and a set of pipes that assailed them with some sort of corrosive powder which in small amounts burned their eyes horribly and in large amounts managed to sear a substantial hole in Nexa's vestments, eating its way through both her boot and her leather pants in a matter of seconds. Even after they had doused the affected area with water, her calf continued to sting painfully. All in all, it was not a fun experience and it was with great relief that they dove through a combination high-low attack from yet another set of barbed darts to find themselves only twenty paces away from the door with no sign of anything else to inhibit their progress.

Iolaus took a few cautious steps forwards and paused, looking warily at the walls of the corridor which, yet, seemed to bear him no ill-will. He frowned. There just *had* to be one more trap. Something seemed amiss, but he couldn't quite place it and he chewed his lip distractedly, brow furrowed in thought. The young hunter looked over at Nexa, who was busy prodding at the ceiling with a spear from one of the earlier traps, when suddenly it hit him: his *foot*. Since they had emerged from the drain, Iolaus had been favoring his right foot and his wounded left now rested lightly on the floor. The numbness of the initial injury had worn off, and the nerves in his foot were electrified, dramatically over-sensitized to the slightest sensation. As a result, he became dimly aware of an unnatural set of pinpricks in the wound and realized that the floor below was vibrating. The motion was slight, almost imperceptible, but now that he had noticed it, it was unquestionable.

"Nexa!" Iolaus hissed, gently laying a hand on the girl's arm and pulling her towards him as he backed against the wall. "Quick. Put your arms around my neck."

The bounty hunter eyed him dubiously. "Iolaus, I hardly think this is the time for..."

"Just do it!" he snapped urgently. Then, his voice softening, he looked appealingly into her eyes. "Trust me."

Warily, Nexa did as he instructed, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck.

Iolaus folded his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly to him, causing her to draw in a sharp, startled breath. "Hold on tight," he whispered. Turning his palms outwards, he clasped the hilts of two of the larger daggers that hung from her belts and with a quick, fluid motion flung his hands upwards, thrusting the daggers forcefully into the stone wall above his head. In that same instant, the floor beneath them shuddered momentarily before dropping away, crashing against the unfeeling walls of the blackened abyss below.

The pair listened for a moment as the sound faded into the distance, Iolaus supported only by his grip on the daggers above his head and Nexa dangling perilously from his neck. She looked at him wide-eyed, impressed. "You're good," she said emphatically.

Iolaus smiled pruriently and raised and eyebrow. "That's what they say."

Not about to let him get away with such a trite proclamation, the bounty hunter grinned wickedly. "Who says that?"

"Oh, you know, 'They.'"

Nexa regarded him with a look of innocent inquiry. "What 'They?'" she asked. "I want names."

In the face of this insistent question Iolaus began to babble, shifting his eyes from side to side,. "Well not so much a *specific* 'They' as a sort of broad-sweeping, general 'They.' Kind of a universal, 'They,' if you will."

"Uh huh," snorted Nexa, shaking her head. She rolled her eyes momentarily, but then stopped, raising them earnestly to meet his. Still clinging to his neck, she pulled herself up until their eyes were level. "Well they're right," she whispered.

Without breaking the gaze, Nexa shifted her weight so that her left arm completely supported her and reached behind her shoulders with her right, finding the crossbow which hung from her pack. She shot a bolt, rope already attached, into the stone just above the door at the end of the corridor and soon the pair had swung to the safety of the narrow ledge in front of it, the only solid ground that had survived after the floor's sudden disappearance.

Nexa cautiously placed a hand on the iron door handle and pushed, narrowing her eyes with nervous expectancy. When no steel mallets came hurtling towards her head, she emboldened slightly and pushed the door further open, revealing a large, darkened chamber. She looked questioningly at her partner and at his shrug stepped forth, grateful to see that this was, indeed, just a regular room. That is, it was regular in the sense that it wasn't attempting to kill them. This particular room did, however, manage to distinguish itself from its many generic peers by its rather unusual contents.

At the center of the chamber was a broad, marble table, its legs carved into Ionic columns and its surface a tessellation of interlacing spirals. Resting at the epicenters of the two largest spirals were red and white velvet pillows, each trimmed and tasseled in gold brocade. It was too dim to see very far, but as Iolaus and Nexa crept towards the table and caught a glimpse of its contents, they looked at each other in alarm. At the center of the red and white pillows respectively were a diamond and a ruby, each easily the size of Nexa's fist.

"Holy..." Iolaus struggled for a moment trying to think of a deity he had not yet lost respect for before finally giving up and moving on with his thought. "Those can't be real, can they?"

"Oh they're real all right," Nexa murmured, eyes wide. She looked at her partner expectantly. "So... you going to take them? It's your prerogative as thief, you know."

Iolaus shot her a stern look, "I believe you mean, 'Personal Property Extraction Expert.'"

"Whatever," said Nexa with a shrug. "Are you going to take them, or not?"

"I told you," muttered Iolaus, a hint of regret in his voice, "I've given up that lifestyle."

"Sure, but this is a unique situation." The bounty hunter put a hand on his shoulder and regarded him earnestly. "Once we take out Revilius, this whole fortress will go into complete chaos. His underlings are going to *loot* the place. Somebody's going to steal these gems no matter what we do, so why not take them?" She glanced again at the jewels. "Look, Iolaus, if you don't, I will."

"Okay, okay," Iolaus griped, rolling his eyes as if nagged to plow the fields one too many times. "I'll take the jewels. We'll decide how to split them up later." He procured the gems and tucked them into the hidden pockets woven into the inside of his vest, pockets he hadn't used in years.

"Good man," said Nexa with a smile. "Now then, I propose we split up and search the place. Considering the time of day, Revilius is probably in his study, which I'm pretty certain is a few levels above us. The floors spiral upwards, so we should be able to sweep through them pretty quickly, getting a feel for the layout and taking out any guards we happen to run into. We'll use the rooms on the outer circumference as our base of operations with me scouting ahead and you scouting the chambers that shoot off to the side. Sound reasonable?"

"What about Hercules and Jason?" asked Iolaus with concern.

"We can't take the time to look for them until after we've taken care of Revilius," Nexa replied. "If we happen to come across them we'll break them out but, honestly, they're much safer where they are... Wherever they are."

"If you say so," said the young hunter, the disappointment apparent in his eyes. Deep down he knew his partner was right, but he also knew that it would be terribly difficult for him to concentrate on the task at hand knowing that his friends were in trouble.

"Okay, then," announced Nexa decisively, trying to fortify Iolaus with a slap on the back and a bright smile. She pushed back her hair and straightened her dagger belts. "Let's do it!"


* * *


"The next time I decide to take a tour of this place, I've got to remember to bring a chariot." Autolycus grumbled to himself as he ducked behind a tall scroll cabinet to avoid a passing guard. He felt like he had been wandering through Revilius' fortress since Cronos was in charge of the universe. Starting near the top of the castle, he had worked his way along a downward spiral, traveling first through scores of servants' quarters, then a series of small, unoccupied guest rooms. Further down were sitting rooms and lounges of various levels of luxury and then larger bedchambers, apparently reserved for the host's more distinguished visitors. Now he was passing through a chain of libraries, each stacked to the ceiling with meticulously categorized scrolls and the thief found himself marveling that a solitary man, even one as rich as Revilius, would feel the need for so much space.

As he dove beneath a reading table just in time to obscure himself from yet another pair of passing guards, boasting to each other congenially about their planned exploits for the coming weekend, Autolycus arched an eyebrow and suavely smoothed it back with his thumbnail. 'I must be getting close,' he thought, 'the guards are getting more numerous - and dumber looking - every second.'

The thief crept from room to room more warily now, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. All of the rooms were more or less the same pattern: elongated and sloping downward slightly with a doorway at each end. Occasionally there would be a side door centered on the curved, inward wall to Autolycus' left but he knew none of these would lead him to his prize. Oh, no. Revilius liked to keep *his* most precious belongings on display in the main stream of traffic. All the better to make his guests bitterly jealous of his wealth.

As Autolycus arrived at the doorway to what looked like yet another library, he heard the sound of footsteps and flattened himself against the door frame. When the oncoming guard stepped through, the thief did a quick roll behind his back and stopped short just beyond the archway, concealed by the narrow strip of wall between. The guard stopped for a moment and raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder curiously but, seeing nothing, continued on his way.

Autolycus noticed the man's egress with a heavy sigh of relief but as he turned to continue his expedition he found himself staring directly at the thickened neck of a second guard whom he had failed to notice, probably because the guy looked more like an unwieldy piece of furniture than an actual person. He smiled up at the giant nonchalantly but further polite exchange was arrested by a slow, deliberate double tap on his shoulder. Calmly, the thief turned around to discover yet another guard of comparable enormity and homeliness. Between the two of them, the huge men seemed to have no interest in allowing Autolycus any personal space. He shifted uncomfortably between them and winced at the stench as their respective breaths seemed to mingle and amplify in foulness as they encountered his face.

"Sorry, guys," said Autolycus, raising his eyebrows apologetically and offering a dramatic shrug, "but if you'd like to dance, I'm afraid you're going to have to take turns."

The thugs, apparently unappreciative of the sentiment, growled angrily. Autolycus tensed, tuning himself to the impending attack, and when he felt the guards begin to lunge forward he dropped abruptly to the ground, sliding facilely between their legs and away to relative safety along the polished marble floor. In the absence of the intruder, the attacking men rammed their heads together forcefully, knocking each other out.

Autolycus got up and brushed the dust off of his hands, allowing it to settle upon the unconscious forms at his feet. 'Why is it that crime lords never hire *intelligent* body guards,' he wondered. 'Are there no intellectual barbarians left in Greece?'

Apparently, the answer was no. As Autolycus surveyed the room he had just entered, a combination library/lounge, he was struck by the brightness of the light streaming in through the archway at the opposite end and realized that the two guards he had just defeated had been maintaining an extremely important post. Contrasting starkly to the dim illumination of the libraries, this new light which poured forth held the promise of adventure, intrigue, and good fortune. Through that door would lie the pathway to the treasures that would make his career.

The thief crept forward and crouched behind the archway, peering around it cautiously. The glint of a shimmering curtain on the other end of the new chamber caught his eye but he could detect no sign of incoming danger beyond. He scanned the room for guards and was startled to see one of the boys he had seen come out of the inn, the one who had carried himself with such an apparent air of nobility and confidence, strapped into a chair looking substantially irritated to say the least. It was clear that he was not there of his own volition and when Autolycus noticed the mark of Hephaestus engraved into the chair's high, imposing back he understood why.

Knowing the young man posed him no threat, Autolycus stepped boldly into the room. Beyond the first prisoner he could see that the other half of the chair was also occupied. The tall chair back prevented him from seeing any of the second captive's features other than a long, skinny arm whose fingers drummed impatiently on the armrest. The thief concluded that this second individual must be that uncommonly strong blonde lackey.

At the thief's entrance, Jason's head snapped up and he regarded him warily. Something about the young man's demeanor suggested to the king that he wasn't the enemy but wasn't particularly a friend either. The newcomer approached him, a look of infuriating superciliousness on his face.

"Well, well, well," said the dark youth, ambling up casually, "Chains of Hephaestus. You two really know how to get captured in style."

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

Behind the young king, Hercules gripped the armrest anxiously, craning his neck to try and see who Jason was talking to. "Who's there? What's going on? Tell him to rescue us!"

Autolycus beamed in amusement at the panic in the young man's voice but then became extremely confused when the lackey suddenly shouted, "Ow! Get away from me!" The lanky arm disappeared from view and there was a loud flapping and the sound of flailing limbs. A few feathers, hued in sapphire and crimson, fluttered up above the chair back before floating lazily to the floor. Moments later a large, disgruntled bird flew out from behind the chair and alighted haughtily on the back. "He bit me!" complained the lackey, still panting heavily from his scuffle. "I can't believe that stupid bird actually bit me! Hey, new guy, can you *please* just get us out of here?"

The thief sighed, offering a contrived look of apology. "Sorry, but no. Look, I feel for you guys, I really do, but I'm in a bit of a hurry. I've got places to go, people to burglarize... You know how it is."

Jason set his jaw and glared at the thief furiously. "Just shut up and set us free," he barked. "We'll make it worth your while."

Chuckling, Autolycus shook his head. "Sorry, Skip, but you're not my type."

Face reddening in anger, the young king spoke through clenched teeth. "Watch it, pal. I'm royalty, you know."

"Oh yeah? Join the club." The thief raised his eyebrows, looking deliberately unimpressed.

"You are *so* dead when I get out of here..." Jason was at the end of his patience and through the back of his chair he could feel Hercules struggling against his bonds, hopefully with the intention of throttling this insipid thief. The king had a sneaking suspicion, though, that if the demigod actually *did* get free he would probably make a point of taking out Hermes first.

Autolycus stepped back and chuckled at the threat, an action which infuriated the young man in front of him even more. " Sorry, buddy," he said, making it clear from his expression that he wasn't *remotely* sorry, "but there's only one person in Greece that scares me, and that's... YOU!"

"That's better," said Jason with a nod, pretending not to notice that the thief was gaping past the chair at someone who had just entered the room, his eyes wide in terror.

"Get away from them!" a female voice commanded, and Jason heard Hermes squawk and flap out of the way as a leather-clad blur came hurtling over the chair back. Nexa's flying side kick landed the thief square in the chest and the instant he hit the floor she grabbed his tunic with her left hand and pulled him to his feet, only to slam him forcefully against the wall behind him, her forearm braced firmly across his sternum. Jason couldn't help but allow himself a wicked smile at the panic in the dark young man's eyes as the bounty hunter, easily two heads shorter than him, held him solidly in place with one hand, using the other to brush the sharpened tip of one of her daggers against the wall next to his head.

"Not the face!" pleaded Autolycus, glancing fearfully over at the gleaming blade.

Nexa rested her dagger gently against his cheek. "What were you doing with them?" she demanded.

Autolycus swallowed nervously. "Oh," he stuttered, "are they friends of yours? My, my, who would have guessed? I was just passing through here, you see, on the way to get the Star of Norn which, of course, I was going to give to YOU. Right away. It was a surprise. Your birthday's coming up, right?"

Unwilling to betray her confusion, Nexa narrowed her eyes. "Shut up," she barked.

"Ah... Ravenica..." sighed the thief, his panic after the initial shock subsiding somewhat. "I see your bedside manner hasn't changed."

'So that's it,' thought Nexa, smiling inwardly. 'If this poor jerk has had a run in with my sister, it's no *wonder* he's terrified of me.' She steeled her gaze, doing her best to look even more ruthless than usual. "Let them go."

"Sorry," responded Autolycus earnestly, emboldened by the fact that Ravenica hadn't killed him yet, "can't do that. I'm terribly late for an important engagement, you see, with a couple of lovely ladies: Diamond and Ruby. Perhaps you've heard of them..."

Nexa tightened her grip on the thief's tunic and rolled her forearm upwards slightly so that it pressed against his windpipe. "Oh, yes," she cooed with sinister sweetness, "I had the pleasure of making their acquaintance just a moment ago, in fact. Charming girls. My partner's with them right now... escorting them on a little tour of the castle."

Hercules, who had been listening to the conversation in extreme confusion, huffed irritably. "Oh, that's just great," he muttered. "Only Iolaus would think to pick up girls during a raid on a crime lord's fortress."

Jason rolled his eyes, unable to believe that the demigod could be that clueless. "Pay attention," he hissed, elbowing the back of his chair forcefully.

"What?" asked Hercules in a wounded tone, pouting for a moment until the facts of the situation dawned on him. "Oh."

Meanwhile, Autolycus had recovered from the initial mortification of learning that his burglary had been beaten to the punch. He looked down at the bounty hunter with an offended expression. "You went and got another partner?" he chided. "I'm hurt."

"Get over it," Nexa growled. "Just get these two out of their chains!" She pressed gently down on his windpipe and rolled her dagger onto its edge against his cheek, letting him know she meant business.

"I really can't do it" gasped Autolycus through his constricted airway, "I swear. Those chains are forged by Hephaestus. I'm the Prince of Thieves, not the God of Locksmiths, you know. It's impossible."

The bounty hunter released her grip on her captive and stepped backwards, flipping the dagger back into her belt. "Then you're just going to have to go steal the keys."

Autolycus' eyes widened. The keys to those chains would not be left in the hands of anyone but Revilius himself, and he had come into this job with the deliberate intention of avoiding that psychopath at all costs. He raised his palms in protest. "No way."

Nexa narrowed her eyes and fingered her dagger belt. "Oh, yes you will," she snarled, "and you'd better not fail me. You *know* what I do to people who fail me."

Autolycus gulped, knowing that if he fled now, Ravenica would be able to hunt him down eventually. Getting himself back on her enemies list was something he definitely wanted to keep off of his agenda. It seemed that he didn't have much of a choice.

"Revilius has them," prompted Jason, jerking his head towards the side door. "He went that way."

"You heard the man," said Nexa, raising her eyebrows at the thief expectantly, "now get going. I'll even help you past the first part."

Leading the unwilling thief to the door, Nexa opened it quietly. The guards just outside were completely oblivious to her presence, so she gave them each a quick tap on the shoulder. As they turned around in surprise, she laid them both out with a quick double palm strike, a lightning fast hand connecting sharply with each of their noses. She then rolled the prone forms out of the way with her boot and gestured grandly at the path she had cleared.

Autolycus gave the bounty hunter a mournful look which was promptly ignored and skulked off into the chambers beyond.

"Who in Tartarus was that?" asked Jason, looking at Nexa incredulously.

"Damned if I know," she said with a shrug, raising her eyebrow in surprise as Hermes, who had been eyeing her admiringly since she entered, flew over and alighted on her shoulder.

"Psychopath!" squawked the bird.

"Wonderful," grumbled Hercules, shaking his head in disbelief as Hermes nuzzled his head lovingly along Nexa's jaw, "now that you and that demon-spawn fowl have been formally introduced, would you kindly tell us where Iolaus is?"

"He'll be along any second. He's just finishing off some of the guards in one of the side rooms." She carefully lifted the colorful bird from her shoulder and replaced him on his perch atop the chair.

Hercules gaped at the bounty hunter. "You just *left* him to fight the guards by himself?"

Glowering, Nexa walked around to the demigod and, placing a hand on each of his armrests, leaned over him reproachfully. "Iolaus is a big boy," she admonished, "he can take care of himself. He's a good fighter. *Really* good. Maybe if you weren't always so busy clucking over him you might actually notice that yourself."

Cheeks flushed with anger, Hercules glared back at her. Who in Tartarus did she think she was? "Well," he spat bitterly, "I might be a little over-protective but I don't go around abandoning him."

"And *I* don't go around trying to keep him in my purse."

"Guys!" shouted Jason, his tone sharp and authoritative. "Knock it off. This isn't the time for this."

There was a moment of tension during which Hercules and Nexa glared at each other in silence, each longing to continue the argument but knowing deep down that the young king was in the right. The only words spoken were the faint monotone of the demigod dejectedly muttering, "I don't even carry a purse."

The bounty hunter whirled away from Hercules in a huff and began pacing the room impatiently, becoming a little concerned herself about what was taking Iolaus so long. He *was* an incredible fighter. They'd taken out enough of Revilius' men in their tour of the museum for her to know that much. She had no doubt that he could handle himself. On the other hand, she couldn't ignore the fact that he was wounded and while the injury was completely imperceptible in battle, he walked with an obviously painful limp which had become more pronounced as they had pressed forward through the fortress. She bit her lip. If something happened to Iolaus she would never forgive herself.

The strained silence continued for quite some time, giving everyone present the unwelcome opportunity to mull over their greatest fears. The two captive boys, in particular, bemoaned the helplessness of their current predicament and both just desperately wished that that arrogant thief would return with a means to free them.

Some wishes, it seems, are actually granted for moments later a triumphant Autolycus marched calmly through the door, twirling an oddly shaped key on a ribbon around the end of his finger.

"Here you are, my dear," he said, offering the bounty hunter a blisteringly bright smile.

"You sure that's the right one?" asked Nexa, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Absolutely. This design is distinctive to Hephaestus."

"Okay," she said, gesturing at Jason authoritatively, "get him out."

"Hey! What about me?" Hercules complained.

The bounty hunter scowled at him. "Wait your turn!" She stood over the thief, watching him carefully as he slid the unusual key into a thin slot on one of the armrests of Jason's chair. "Did you have any trouble lifting that off of Revilius?" she asked.

"None at all," replied Autolycus, lips curling into a boastful smirk. He stepped back, allowing Jason to rise gratefully out of his restraints. "He was a little distracted by watching some curly-headed shrimp take out half his army."

"What?!" No one present was exactly sure who it was that had verbalized the exclamation, but the sentiment spoke for all of them. In one fluid motion, Nexa snatched the key away from Autolycus and tossed it to Jason who sprinted to free the demigod from his bonds. Before the thief could react, the agile bounty hunter grabbed his arm and flung him into the chair that Jason had occupied, clamping the restraint over his waist.

"Ravenica..." Autolycus protested.

"Name's Nexa," she pronounced. "You've got the wrong sister. Now just wait there and I'll come back and deal with you later." She drew a dagger out of her belt and handed it to Hercules who was just rising out of his chair. She hoped the weapon would be accepted as a temporary offering of peace.

The demigod received the blade with an appreciative nod. "Let's go," he said, "we've got to get to Iolaus before..."

"... before something 'awful' happens?"

All eyes turned to the open doorway where stood a tall, platinum-haired young man bearing a polite, amiable grin. His right arm encircled Iolaus' throat, restraining him firmly, and while the cadet gripped the imprisoning forearm with both hands, the dagger at his throat prevented him from struggling too enthusiastically.

Delighted by the disheartened faces his arrival had elicited, Marcus beamed. "This, I assume, is the Iolaus I've been hearing so much about." He tightened his grip around the younger man's throat, causing him to wince with discomfort. "You really were correct, Your Highness," he said, looking over at Jason appreciatively. My tapestry doesn't do him justice. The artist really must have caught him on a bad hair day."

Iolaus glanced inquisitively over at Jason who merely shook his head grimly.

"Let him go!" shouted Hercules, realizing that this was a perfectly ludicrous thing to say but unable to come up with anything better.

Marcus laughed brightly, nodding at the demigod in appreciation. His mirth desisted as suddenly as it had begun and he looked at Hercules sternly. "I wish you had informed me," he chided, "that this little friend of yours was also a practicing thief." He opened his right hand slowly, careful not to lessen his hold on Iolaus, to reveal a pair of enormous gems, each glittering mesmerizingly in the candlelight.

"Iolaus!" Hercules scolded, forgetting the gravity of the situation. "You stole those?"

The captive cadet did his best to shrug innocently beneath the crime lord's iron grip. "It's complicated," he said in a placating tone, "I'll explain later."

Smirking, Marcus tightened his grip and pressed the dagger a little closer into his throat, breaking the skin slightly so that a trickle of blood ran down his neck to his collarbone where it mingled with a few droplets of sweat that had collected there. "Sure you will," he said. Returning his gaze to Hercules, he reestablished his gentle smile. "You," he cooed, "Son of Zeus. Kindly take your seat, if you will. And please do it quickly if you don't want this friend of yours to get any more blood stains on his very lovely - albeit *painfully* last season - patchwork vest. I just can't have demigods running wild about the place, you know. Who *knows* what might get broken? I mean, look what almost happened to my beautiful Gorgon's head! And you..." He jerked his head at Nexa. "Ravenica... Or whatever it is you're calling yourself these days... You know the drill: you're on my team now. I'll see that you are amply rewarded."

Nexa narrowed her eyes, exhaling sharply in disgust. 'Gods,' she thought, 'does my sister know every lowlife in Greece?' Well, it didn't matter. All the bounty hunter knew was that she couldn't let Iolaus come to any harm and that she would do whatever it took to get him out of this alive. With a curt nod she drew herself up and moved to stand at Revilius' side.

"Wait," said Marcus, frowning. "Make sure that demigod is properly secured first."

Nexa strode over to the chair and lifted up the metal restraint, glaring at Hercules with impatient expectancy. Resignedly, the demigod took a few slow steps towards her, refusing to take his eyes off of Iolaus. He gradually eased himself into the hated chair and caught his breath as Nexa closed the restraint over his lap.

Marcus observed the scene with increasing delight, laughing joyfully when he saw Hercules struggling against the invisible force that imprisoned him. "There," he said with a smile, "this story might have a happy ending after all!" With a contented sigh, he relaxed his grip around Iolaus' neck and the cadet seized his one opportunity, elbowing his captor sharply in the ribs and then diving to the floor when, in his surprise, the crime lord released his hold.

"Now!" Iolaus shouted as he rolled to safety.

Reacting instantly, Hercules leapt out of the restraint which Nexa had carefully prevented from closing completely and launched his dagger at the disoriented crime lord. Simultaneously, Nexa had drawn her own weapon and done the same. The two blades struck their target with uncanny synchronicity, landing a hair's breadth apart and both driving deep, breaking through the ribcage and piercing the flesh of Revilius' heart.


* * *


Iolaus got up and dusted himself off, crinkling his nose at the crime lord where he had fallen, shallow breaths gradually slowing to a halt. He offered Hercules and Nexa a dubious look. "And you guys accuse *me* of being over-dramatic," he said with a quiet laugh. "That looked like something I saw on stage in Athens once."

Hercules smiled, immensely grateful to have his best friend back at his side. Above and beyond getting captured by a psychopathic, if friendly, crime lord, these last few days without Iolaus had been his longest at the Academy. The constant worry had really worn him out. The demigod took a few steps forward to offer his friend a welcoming handshake but stopped when he saw that Nexa had beaten him there.

"We did it!" said Nexa with a smile as bright and genuine as Iolaus had ever seen. As she walked up to him she clapped a hand on his shoulder and then stepped in to encircle his neck with her arms and offer him a warm hug. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around her waist and relaxed into the embrace, sighing deeply as he closed his eyes and relished in the sensations of the moment: the relief of having survived, the satisfaction of a successful mission, and the incomparable feeling of the silken skin of Nexa's cheek resting against his.

From a few paces behind them, Hercules regarded the scene with a sinking heart. He saw something unusual in his best friend's smile, an emotion that, despite his constantly cheerful demeanor, Iolaus didn't seem to encounter that often: total contentment. With a mournful sigh, Hercules realized that the battle to keep from losing his best friend in the world might not yet be over.

Moments later, Iolaus and Nexa released each other from the embrace, and the young hunter stepped forward, the pain in his foot doing nothing to darken his dazzling smile, taking the demigod's forearm into a warrior's grip and shaking it vigorously. "Thanks for coming after me, big guy," he said with a laugh, overjoyed at the reunion. Hercules accepted the handshake gladly, setting aside his concerns about the future and just being happy for the moment that things had turned out as well as they did. "You too, 'Your Highness,'" Iolaus added, reaching over to shake hands with Jason and squeezing his shoulder warmly.

Once the giddy thrill of the initial reunion was over, Nexa reached over and smacked Iolaus on the side of his head. "I can't believe you let him capture you," she scolded. "Didn't I *tell* you not to go after Revilius alone?"

"Yeah, yeah," responded the young hunter, rolling his eyes. "It's just that... Well, I wanted to try and find Hercules and Jason, so I explored a few extra rooms... You know how it goes. Pretty soon I was in the middle of a fight fending off about eight guys at once. When I had finished off the last of them, that jerk Revilius jumped me from behind. I'd kind of noticed him, but figured he was just another guy. When no one was left standing I just assumed I'd taken him out already. How was *I* supposed to know he was the Main Bad Guy."

Nexa regarded her partner dubiously. "Here's a hint, the Main Bad Guy is *always* the one in a different outfit from everybody else."

"Sure," Iolaus laughed, "usually. But the guy's name was 'Revilius.' I expected him to be old and fat and ugly with lots of jewelry. You know the type."

"Yeah!" prompted Hercules, throwing the bounty hunter a look of mock scorn. "It was a natural mistake. Don't be so hard on him."

Jason grinned and chimed in. "Exactly... Not that *we'd* ever make a bone-headed mistake like that, of course."

"Oh no," agreed the demigod, shaking his head earnestly, "not us."

Arching an eyebrow at his friends, Iolaus decided to let the comment slide. "By the way," he said, walking over to Revilius' body and nudging it with his foot, "I don't know if this has anything to do with you, Jason, but just before a couple of guards jumped me I overheard something about sending a messenger off to Corinth."

The young king's face went white. "Gods, they hadn't already sent the message out, had they?"

"Sounded like it, yeah."

Jason grew sullen and closed his eyes, frantically trying to think of a plan to prevent the message from going through. For a brief moment he even wondered whether Nexa would let him hire her to track down the messenger and take him out before he got to Corinth. Eventually he determined that he would just have to send a messenger of his own letting Ophistus know that he was safe and sound. It would most likely arrive at the palace a couple of hours after the ransom note, but hopefully early enough to arrest any widespread panic. The king sighed morosely. More painful than the prospect of how much trouble he was going to be in when he returned to Corinth was the knowledge that in thoughtlessly rushing off on an adventure with Hercules he had let his kingdom down. Good intentions aside, his selfish act of irresponsibility had almost cost his people the Golden Fleece. The very thought of it sickened him with regret. There and then, Jason vowed to himself that he would never let something like that happen again. From that day forward he would be king first, human second.

While Jason was coming to grips with the repercussions of his actions, Iolaus had been picking over Revilius' body in search of the gems, hampered slightly by Hermes who stood over the corpse protectively, plaintively squawking his master's name. Hercules and Nexa, meanwhile, stood looking at each other uncertainly.

At last, the bounty hunter spoke. "Thanks for trusting me back there," she said, offering Hercules a grateful smile. "I know you could have taken me out pretty easily if you'd thought I'd really betrayed you."

"What can I say?" shrugged the demigod, his faint grin slightly lopsided. "I'm a trusting kind of guy. I'm just glad that trust turned out to be well placed."

Any further reconciliation between the two was interrupted by an astonished cry from Iolaus, who still knelt beside the fallen crime lord. "The jewels!" he shouted, looking back at the bounty hunter. "They're gone!"

Nexa's eyes widened quizzically and with prophetic apprehension she slowly turned to investigate the chair behind her. On either end the metal restraining strips lolled uselessly to the side, both seats unoccupied. "So's the thief," she gasped, smacking her forehead in self-reproof. "That little son of a hydra picked the lock on the Chains of Hephaestus!"

Jason's voice cut through the ensuing silence. "Um, guys?" he said grimly, "My money pouch has disappeared too."

At this proclamation, all four of them turned to gape incredulously at the empty prison chair. How did he *do* that?!


* * *


Obscured within the darkening forest at the periphery of the wide clearing which surrounded the fortress, a solitary figure crouched among the branches of one of the taller trees. He had looked on for nearly an hour as whatever members of Revilius' castle guard remained conscious poured out along the drawbridge, laden with whatever trinkets they had managed to scavenge from the once prestigious collection of their former master. A few of them had been too greedy, availing themselves of so much loot that they could barely walk straight, and gone plummeting off the drawbridge into the moat below, where the lurking sea monster was gifted with a much welcomed snack.

The flow of newly unemployed guards had long since ceased and now, from his high perch, Autolycus looked on as four figures emerged followed by a brightly colored bird which lagged a respectful distance behind. The taller blonde boy had the body of Revilius flung over his shoulder and the young thief couldn't help but laugh. "So they stuck him with the corpse," he mused. "I knew that kid was the lackey."

Before long, the four figures had disappeared around a bend in the road and Autolycus found himself alone in the hastening onset of dusk. Well, not *entirely* alone. He opened his hands to reveal the sparkling fruits of his labor, the diamond resting gently in his left palm, the ruby in his right. "Well here we are, ladies," he murmured, "together at last."

The thief closed his fingers over the gems and when he opened them, found that the diamond had migrated to his right hand and the ruby now glittered enticingly in his left. He smiled, impressing even himself with his sleight of hand and leaned forward to grace each of the jewels with an ardent kiss.

"Autolycus," he announced as he tucked the gems into the invisible pouches in his tunic, "today has been your greatest triumph. In fact, I think you deserve a promotion."

The thief took a deep, satisfying breath and looked up at the sky, across which a pearly white strip of stars was just beginning to make its presence known. Autolycus straightened his tunic and gave himself a congratulatory punch on the shoulder. "Henceforth," he said, "you are no longer the Prince. It is my great pleasure to announce that from this day forward, you, Autolycus, shall be known as the *King* of Thieves."

With a bright, supercilious smile, the King of Thieves emitted a jubilant yodel and, casting his grappling hook, swung off into the night.


* * *


The mirthful hum of a typically busy evening at Kora's Inn fell largely on deaf ears as Hercules sighed and dropped dejectedly into the chair across from the King of Corinth. They had parted ways with Iolaus and Nexa at the inn at Oeniadea, as Jason was anxious to return to the Academy and collecting the bounty on Revilius was going to add at least half a day to the journey. Without Jason's money pouch they were almost completely broke and had only been able to scrape together enough dinars to send an extremely vague and almost cryptically brief message to the palace at Corinth: "Not kidnapped. Explain later. Regards, J." Hercules and Jason had arrived at the Academy only an hour before and, after briefly checking in with Cheiron, had headed straight to Kora's. Now each of the young men toyed distractedly with his food, immersed in his own rather disconsolate thoughts.

Hercules' doleful sigh, however, roused Jason out of his introspection. "He's coming back, you know," offered the young king, casting a sympathetic look at his obviously miserable friend.

"How can you be so sure?" the demigod responded. "You saw the way he and that bounty hunter..."

"Nexa..."

"Whatever... The way he and that bounty hunter looked at each other."

Jason sighed, shaking his head. "Come on, Hercules. It's not like he would just take off without coming back to say goodbye."

"So you think he's going to go off with her?" Hercules sat up, his eyes pleading to the king to offer a stout denial.

Unfortunately, Jason knew he couldn't make a definitive statement either way. "I don't know," he said, "but I want you to send a messenger to Corinth the moment you find out."

"What do you mean?" the demigod asked, his expression one of abandonment. "Your original itinerary gave you another four days here!"

"I know," replied Jason with a sigh. He avoided his friend's inquiring gaze, knowing that seeing the disappointment in his face would make his decision all that much harder. "It's just that... well... I'm the king now. I guess it's time I started acting like it."

"I see," murmured Hercules, the forlorn tone in his voice nearly breaking the young king's heart.

The pair sat in silence for several minutes, neither even bothering to feign interest in his food. Suddenly, however, their reflective tranquility was disrupted by a stir at the entrance. "King Jason!" yelled an unfamiliar voice, and both boys looked up to see a middle-aged soldier, clad in Corinthian armor, come running towards their table.

"King Jason!" the soldier repeated, breathing heavily. "Thank the gods you're okay!"

"Of course I'm okay," responded Jason with a frown. "Didn't Ophistus get my message?"

"I don't know anything about a message from you, Your Highness," panted the soldier. "I was dispatched here the moment the ransom note arrived in the hopes that it was a hoax of some kind. I'm overjoyed to see that it was, although the palace was in quite a frenzy when I left."

"Wonderful," moaned Jason, leaning one elbow on the table and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

The soldier's relief at having encountered his king alive and well was suddenly replaced with confusion. "So if you weren't *really* kidnapped," he said, "who sent the message?"

Uncertain where to begin, Jason's voice faltered. "Well, you see... I... that is..."

"I sent it," came a voice from behind the soldier's right shoulder. It was Iolaus.

"You?" gaped the soldier in puzzlement. He recognized the youth as one of His Highness' friends, but beyond that wasn't sure what to make of him.

"Yes," said Iolaus confidently, then buckling somewhat under the soldier's reproachful glare, added, "Well...kind of. You see we were playing a bit of a prank on Jason. You know, trying to make him *think* that someone was trying to kidnap him. But then... well... our ransom note got mixed up with the outgoing messages and, well, you know how messengers are. The note got sent out before we could do anything about it."

"Right," agreed Jason, winking at Iolaus in thanks for the rescue. "And all we could do was send a second message to correct the earlier mistake. Terribly sorry to make you come all this way."

The soldier still looked skeptical and glowered at Iolaus. "That wasn't a very funny joke, young man."

The young hunter returned the soldier's gaze with innocent, apologetic eyes. "I know sir," he said contritely, "I am brimming with remorse." He fluttered his eyelashes for additional effect.

"You see," added Jason, "he's really quite sorry so it's only fair that all be forgiven. Please return to the palace and notify Ophistus that I will be departing for Corinth this evening."

"Yes, Your Highness," replied the soldier, still dubious but unsure of any other recourse to take. With a respectful salute, he turned on his heel and, casting one last reproving glance at Iolaus, retreated from the inn.

"You're back!" cried Hercules the moment the soldier had departed, leaping up to welcome his friend with a quick, awkward hug.

"Yep!" said Iolaus brightly, "We sure are!"

The demigod's face fell. "We?"

"Sure," said a familiar female voice. "We." Iolaus stepped aside to reveal Nexa standing beside him, Hermes bobbing happily on her shoulder.

Hercules gasped. "What's *that* doing here?"

"What?" Iolaus asked, "you mean the bird?"

Under his breath, the demigod muttered, "Yeah. That too." Iolaus hadn't heard him, but Jason had to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh.

Iolaus shrugged. "Well," he said, "after we dropped off Revilius' body and collected our bounty, the poor little guy seemed kind of lost so he started following us. He's taken quite a shine to Nexa, you know."

"Nexa!" Hermes squawked happily.

"Delightful, isn't it?" Nexa grumbled, clearly not as exhilarated with the relationship as her feathered friend.

Noting the downtrodden look on Hercules' face, Jason decided to try and avoid an uncomfortable situation by making an attempt at conversation. "So," he said, "where are you off to next?"

"Not sure," replied the bounty hunter, glancing meaningfully over at Iolaus. "That depends on a lot of things. Regardless, though, we're planning on staying here for the night."

"I see," said Jason quietly. He looked down at his untouched plate of food. "Oh," he sputtered, realizing his lack of basic etiquette. "I'm sorry. Have you eaten? Please join us."

"No, thanks," responded Nexa with a faint smile, "we were just stopping by. Iolaus wanted to show off some of the local scenery."

"Yeah," added Iolaus, shrugging. "Sorry!"

"No problem," said the king, offering the pair the most genuine smile he could muster as they turned to depart. He glanced over at the demigod who sat staring into space. "You okay, buddy?"

"He's not going to stay, is he?" murmured Hercules, resting his chin disconsolately on the table.

"No," Jason responded, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't think he is."


* * *


Early evening had fallen upon the treetops of Artemis' woods and Iolaus and Nexa paused to admire the Great Waterfall as it captured the pale brilliance of the moonlight. They had been walking in silence for some time, each weighing their options, searching their souls, and projecting present decisions into future regrets. There were serious matters to discuss, but both Iolaus and Nexa were wary of broaching the subject, uncertain of the other's true feelings.

At length, the bounty hunter spoke. "Iolaus," she began tentatively, "do you believe in destiny?"

The young hunter regarded her searchingly. "Only in that we each make our own. Why?"

"Just wondering. As for me, I have never been much for acknowledging the power of the Fates. I've always felt that we each hold our destiny inside ourselves." Nexa took a seat along the riverbank, splashing some of the clear water on the tender burn she still bore on her calf, a gift of Revilius' booby traps. "I believe that sometimes all you have to do to unlock the secrets of your future is to turn your sights inward."

Iolaus joined her on the riverbank, acutely aware of his heartbeat as it hastened in his chest. "And when you look inside yourself for your destiny... what do you see?"

"I see us." Nexa blushed but maintained her composure, gazing earnestly at the former thief. "We make a great team, Iolaus, and we could do a lot of good together. Join me - become a bounty hunter. We can spend our lives making the world a better place, making sure murdering scum like Revilius get what they deserve."

Iolaus smiled. "Is that a proposal?"

"It's a prophesy... at least of the future as I'd like to see it. Make of it what you will. So now, I guess it's up to you. What do *you* see when you look to your destiny."

Nexa bit her lip and regarded her partner as he contemplated her question, trying to read his thoughts through the closed lids of his eyes. At this moment, it seemed that the world itself was balanced tenuously on his response. In her heart she felt that his answer alone would foretell a future of misery or one of bliss. In her head, logical and unjaded by lovelorn imaginings, she knew that should he reject her proposal she would get through it somehow. No matter what atrocity life threw at her she had *always* gotten through it. And what would be the logical outcome if he took her up on her offer? Well, actually, her head agreed with her heart. Unquestionably a lifetime of bliss.

Iolaus sat back against the dewy grass of the shore and pondered the question, perhaps the most important one he had ever been asked. So many factors to consider. So many emotions clouding his judgment. So many innocent lives he could touch, or protect... or take. He was at the crossroads of the future with no obvious choice and no place to look for guidance save his own soul. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind, his whole body falling into the calm of his mental serenity. Moments later the tranquility of his thoughts unexpectedly produced an answer. Iolaus opened his eyes, startled by the sudden revelation and smiled faintly at his partner. He reached out and stroked her cheek, taking a moment just to admire her features in the pale moonlight, before leaning forwards and gently brushing his lips against hers.


* * *


"Are you guys going to pay or what?" Kora stood over the table and glared at Hercules and Jason, who sprawled across it disconsolately like a couple of melted candles. The prospect of not seeing much of Iolaus any more, in addition to Jason's new awareness of his responsibilities and Hercules' realization that he was suddenly utterly alone at the Academy, had hit them much harder than they expected and, three hours after they had ordered them, their dinners lay largely untouched. Kora hated to see them in this depressive state but since no one had bothered to clue her in on what the trouble actually was, she wasn't quite sure what to say.

They boys looked up at her blankly as if "pay" were a foreign word to them.

"Put it on my tab," said a voice from the doorway.

"You don't *have* a tab," Kora sneered, regarding the newcomer with amusement.

"Very well then, I'll pay in cash." Iolaus stepped past the threshold and pressed several dinars into Kora's hand. "Keep the change."

The innkeeper gaped at the dinars and then at the cadet. "Whatever you say, Mister Moneybags." She flashed the cadet a wry grin and, flipping a coin into the air, hurried back to the kitchen, sensible enough to know that the boys probably needed to sort out their problems in private.

"I'm back," said Iolaus, sliding onto the bench next to Hercules. He beamed at his friends, but both could detect something forced in the gesture. There was a distinct sadness behind his smile.

"Where's that boun..." out of the corner of his eye, Hercules caught a reprimanding look from Jason and decided to amend his original statement. "Where's Nexa?" he asked quietly.

Iolaus' face darkened. "She... She had to go. There's some assassin running rampant in Sparta, taking out a lot of their high ranking officials. Nobody can seem to catch him so she's going to give it a shot."

"Didn't she need a partner?" asked Jason, furrowing his brow and trying to decipher the myriad emotions that flashed across the young hunter's face.

"Nah," replied Iolaus dismissively, trying to reassemble his smile. "After the last few days, that job will be a piece of cake."

Hercules bit his lip. "So you're back? Like, *back* back? Back for good?" He regarded his best friend with pleading eyes, almost afraid to believe it might be true for fear of later disappointment.

"Yep," Iolaus laughed. "You're stuck with me."

The expression of relief on the demigod's face was so over-dramatic, so ridiculous that Iolaus found himself grinning in spite of himself, his smile genuine for the first time in the long hours since Nexa's departure.

"This calls for a celebration," Hercules beamed, leaping up from the table with excitement, "I'll go tell Kora to fix us up something special."

"It's on me!" yelled Iolaus at the retreating figure of his friend as he sprinted to the kitchen.

When Hercules had gone, Jason leaned forward across the table, his features dark with concern. "Iolaus," he murmured, noting that his friend had drawn a small dagger out of his vest which he recognized as one of Nexa's, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," the cadet replied, keeping his eyes on the dagger as he turned it over in his hands. "I'm fine."

Jason paused, wondering if he should probe further. "You love her, don't you?" he asked quietly, hesitantly.

At the kings words, Iolaus froze, halting his distracted toying with the dagger and after a few moments of silence gently laid it on the table in front of him. He closed his eyes briefly and then lifted them to meet Jason's. "Yeah," he whispered, barely audible. "Yeah, I do." His eyes fell again and he picked up the dagger, carving abstract patterns into the rough wood of the table top.

"Then why didn't you go with her?"

Iolaus drew in a deep breath and looked up. He furrowed his eyebrows and cleared his throat uncomfortably, the halting words passing slowly across his lips. "She told me that we can each learn our destinies by looking inside ourselves, so that's what I did. I cleared my mind and closed my eyes and my memory immediately flew to that pivotal moment in Revilius' fortress, the moment that could have been my last. I relived the events in my mind, remembering how full of faith I was as I leapt away from him that everything would be okay. I knew that my partner would save my life."

"And?"

"And that moment when my life was on the line and I looked to my partner to throw the dagger, the person that I saw was Hercules."

Jason nodded soberly and offered his friend a faint smile as the table fell into silence.

Hercules broke the stillness moments later when he arrived at the table with three brimming goblets.

"Wine," he said, smiling sheepishly as he handed a goblet to each of his companions.

Jason and Iolaus raised their eyebrows and accepted the beverages hesitantly, looking at the demigod in surprise.

"I know, I know," said Hercules, raising his free hand to ward off the shocked expressions, "I don't usually touch the stuff but what with Jason going to Corinth tonight and Iolaus... well... *not* going to Sparta tonight... It's a special occasion, that's all."

With a shrug, Jason raised his glass. "To us!" he said.

"To us!" the others echoed, offering their own goblets forth to meet the king's.

The three fell into one of the joyful, worry-free conversations of old, talking about gods and monsters, heroic acts completed and those yet to come. They exchanged secrets and local gossip and embarrassed each other with rekindled memories some might have hoped forgotten. They chided each other over ridiculous pranks and did their very best to ignore the lingering shadow of knowledge that such things were swiftly becoming deeds of the past. They were standing on the threshold of the future and it didn't look nearly as fun.

As his friends chatted and laughed, Iolaus leaned back in his chair and thought about Nexa, closing his eyes as he attempted to recapture every detail of their reluctant farewell. She hadn't tried to change his mind, although it was clear that she wanted to, and her selfless behavior had made his choice all the more painful. He thought of the final kiss, the final embrace the final brush of his thumb against her cheek and, lastly, his final glimpse of her, golden hair shining as she vanished into the woods. He had watched her as she retreated along the dim path, Hermes happily in tow, and continued watching for quite some time even after she had disappeared. Taking a sip of his wine, Iolaus laughed quietly as he remembered the words that had wafted back to him on the evening breeze:

"Psychopath!"

"Shut. Up."

The young hunter sighed. Letting Nexa walk away from him had been the most difficult decision of his life but, deep down, he knew it was the right one. Despite the undeniable appeal of a lifestyle of love and larceny, Iolaus couldn't help but keep faith in the notion that, ultimately, his one true destiny was to be a hero.



End.