The storyteller speaks:

Now, where was I? Ahh, yes, our first visit to Haven—the first of many over the years. When we set forth the day after the battle, Ice and Mallory, and the children, headed first to the Temple of the Three Goddesses, to pick up the boy, while the rest of us headed into New Athens. While I packed up some clothes and a few books, Cat and Moira made arrangements for the rest of my things to be sent to Haven after the harvest. We debated staying in town overnight, but decided against it. I think that's when I first realized how much Cat disliked large crowds of people. How she ever managed to survive in New York for all those years is still a mystery to me.

Alone, Cat and I could have made the journey to Haven in a week or less; with six children it took us twice that long. We started late, stopped early, and took frequent breaks. But finally, after fifteen days on the road, we arrived.

Haven was not yet the thriving town it is today. Then it was a small village, well away from anything resembling a road, consisting of a smithy, a communal mess hall, two large bunkhouses, and about three dozen private homes. Total population? A hundred men, women and children, give or take a few. Many of the women were dressed like our Amazon companions, and the men mostly wore jeans or buckskin pants and no shirts. But they were friendly, and treated the Amazons like honored visitors.

Moira and Jetahn spent half an hour with the village "elders" explaining all that had occurred, and petitioning acceptance for Ice, Mallory and the children. When they returned all were smiling, and the former Hell-Hounds and slaves were made welcome. Both of the bunkhouses were unoccupied at the time, and one was given to Ice and Mallory as a temporary residence, until more definite plans and arrangements could be made.

We spent the night in the other bunkhouse, the Amazons and Cat and myself. Cat and I discussed staying in Haven for a few days, so she could spend some time with her brother, but that was not to be. The next morning a messenger arrived from the Amazon Queen, with a formal invitation for Cat and I to attend a feast in our honor that night. Moira explained that while the Amazons were generally a fairly relaxed and casual people, certain customs and traditions were taken quite seriously, and an invitation from the Queen was one of them.

I was not surprised in the least when an honor guard dropped out of the trees a few miles from the village, nor was I surprised by the feathered masks they wore. What did surprise me was how familiar some of the patterns on those masks seemed; I almost expected to see Solari or Eponin behind one. When we got to the village the Queen was waiting to receive us. Whether it was by fate or happenstance, we had arrived right at dusk, the usual time for such celebrations to begin.

The Queen spoke formal words of welcome and friendship, acknowledging Cat and myself as the spirits of Xena and Gabrielle. Something about her voice seemed familiar, though it was somewhat distorted by the mask. The greeting was spoken first in Greek-classical Greek, not the modern version-and then repeated in English. Once the formalities were done, the Queen rose and stepped down to speak with us. Again, something about the way she moved seemed familiar, and I searched my, no, Gabrielle's memories, thinking maybe this was the spirit of Ephiny, or even Melosa.

But when the Queen removed her mask I saw a face I recognized. Me, not Gabrielle.

Angie stared, speechless, into eyes almost as familiar to her as her own. The Queen smiled at the look of utter confusion on the storyteller's face.

"It's good to see you again, Angie." The Queen stepped forward, wrapping strong slender arms around her friend.

"Myla?!" Angie willingly returned the hug. "How?...Why?...What are you doing here?"

"C'mon, I'll explain everything during dinner." Queen Myla led the astonished storyteller and a thoughtful Cat to the dining hall, where a spectacular feast was awaiting their arrival. Within minutes the Amazon community, some two hundred women, was enjoying the efforts of their best hunters and cooks.

"I take it you know Angie from her time in Greece?" Cat decided to get the conversation rolling.

"Myla was my best friend while I was there," Angie explained. "Her mother, Elena, gave me my first lessons in Classical Greek. And my first staff lessons."

"Maybe I'd better start at the beginning." Myla picked up a wine pitcher and reached for Angie's goblet. "Oh, you have got to try this, Damia makes the best honey mead."

"The beginning?" Cat prompted.

"The beginning . . . ." Myla filled Cat's goblet and her own before setting the pitcher down. "Many centuries ago, not long after the Queen's Mask passed from Gabrielle to her daughter, the Amazons realized that their time as a nation was ending. A young priestess was called before the Queen, and a set of scrolls was given into her keeping. The scrolls had been written by Gabrielle, and contained a detailed account of the traditions and customs of the Amazons, as well as a concise history. They also contained numerous illustrations of clothing, masks, weapons, architecture - in short, everything required to rebuild the Amazon Nation. That priestess swore that her family would never forget what it meant to be Amazons." Myla's eyes met Angie's. "We never did."

"You're right, the mead is excellent." Cat took another sip, then looked at the young queen. "So, you are descended from that priestess?"

Myla nodded.

"For generations the women of my family have continued to serve Artemis, even though until recently she has been silent. My mother has had strange dreams all her life, including dreams of a blonde woman holding the Mask of the Queen. Then, about a year before the Storm she started having stranger dreams, telling her of the Storm and the changes it would bring." Myla sat back so that she could look at both her guests. "Included in the scrolls was a prophecy: A time would come when the gods would fall silent. Many generations would pass before they returned to the people, and at that time the world would be reborn. The return of the gods of Olympus would herald the return of an older entity, a great evil, but it would also bring the return of two of the Amazons Nations greatest legends, the Warrior and the Bard."

"Xena and Gabrielle." Angie nodded in comprehension. "Your mother knew who I was, didn't she? That's why she taught me Classical Greek, and how to fight with a staff."

"Exactly." Myla grinned. "Of course, the fact that she really liked you had a little to do with it."

"Did you know who Angie was?" Cat interjected.

"Not until just before the Storm." Myla turned to Angie, reaching for her friend's hand. "Everything between us was real," she assured the storyteller in a softer voice. "No prophesies, just you...and me."

"I know." Angie gently squeezed the Queen's hand. Cat found herself unwilling to look at the two women, certain that there had been something more than friendship between them, yet she was unable to look away. A long moment passed as the storyteller and the Queen looked into each other's hearts, confirming the soul-deep friendship that would always bind them. With a sudden clarity of insight that part of Angie that had been Gabrielle recognized the soul that had once been her Regent.

"By the gods!" Angie leaned forward as she grasped Myla's shoulders, her face aglow with joy an d wonder. "Ephiny!"

So caught up in their reunion were the two women that they never noticed the warrior leave.

The smooth surface of the pond reflected the sky above with crystal clarity, the white light of the full moon seeming to radiate from the still depths. Stars twinkled above and below, but Cat could see none of it. Blinded by unwelcome tears she fought futilely to control, the warrior did not even notice the pond until she felt its cool waters seeping into her boots.

Stupid stupid stupid! Cat berated herself as she stepped back onto the shore. Why am I getting so upset over an old friend? Okay, a beautiful friend and probably lover. The warrior sat on a convenient stump, holding her head in her hands. What's happening to me? How did she get under my skin like this? Why can I no longer imagine a day passing without seeing her face, hearing her voice? Cat's fingers clenched around raven locks of hair as she contemplated her dilemma. An image flashed thru her mind, a pair of emerald eyes filled with relief, a smile lighting the young woman's face, and she heard the storyteller's soft voice calling her name, asking if she was alright. Her mind kept replaying the sound of Angie's voice calling her name again and again, reliving every time her name had passed her companions lips, and suddenly Cat understood.

This was the person who spoke the name written on Cat's heart and soul. The one who held the key to Xena's memories. But what will she offer that I must accept? I've already accepted her as a partner and a friend. Cat shook her head, still resting in her hands, as she finally admitted her own feelings toward the storyteller. And the gods know – or they should – that I would do anything to keep her in my life. But I saw how she looked at her friend, the Queen. If only she'd look at me that way.

Cat saw again in her mind's eye the moment the Amazon Queen had removed her mask, revealing nut-brown hair, golden brown eyes, and a flawless, well-tanned olive complexion. Angie's face had practically glowed as she recognized her … friend. Cat sighed as the unfamiliar feeling of jealousy came over her again.

Okay, big bad ninja-babe, admit it. You're in love with Angie. And she's not in love with you. Cat's restless nature asserted itself, and she rose from the stump to pace along the water's edge. Not that she should be. She's kind, friendly, compassionate … face it, she's everything that's good and decent. Why would she – how could she – love someone with as much blood on their hands as me? It's miracle enough that she's willing to be my friend. The first real friend I've had since they sent Phillip away.

Cat knelt to wash the tracks of tears form her face.

Okay, Cat, get a grip. Just friends, and partners against Callisto. Nothing more. The warrior allowed herself a minor concession as she gracefully stood and started back for the Amazon village. Well, maybe something more. But only in my dreams.

Cat stopped at the edge of the clearing, taking a moment to examine the village. No sentries were visible, but she heard one fidgeting in the tree above her. Anyone approaching had to cross a fifty yard wide "kill zone" before reaching the nearest structures. The most important buildings, such as the dining hall and the Queen's residence, were near the center courtyard. All in all, she had to admit, it was not a bad set-up.

The warrior heard movement above her as the Amazon sentry moved to another tree. Cat started to enter the village, but could not shake the feeling of being watched. She turned slowly, scanning the surrounding woods for danger. The sound of something large moving through the trees drew her attention, and as she readied her sword a large figure stepped out onto the path. Cat froze.

The horse was beyond doubt the most beautiful specimen of the species she had ever seen. The creature stood over sixteen hands – sixteen-two, Cat judged – and its golden coat and white mane seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. Her coat, Cat corrected herself, certain that the magnificent animal before her was a female of the species. The mare lowered her head, and Cat found herself falling into the most beautiful, intelligent, amber eyes she had ever seen on an equine.

The mare stretched her neck and inhaled, taking in Cat's scent. Satisfied, the mare stepped closer and rested her head on the warrior's shoulder.

"Well, aren't you the friendly one?" Cat submitted to the mare's demands and began running her hands over the elegant neck and head. "Now who forgot to put you up for the night? Or did you let yourself out?" The warrior ducked out from under the mare's neck, stepping around to the side and gently grabbing a bit of mane. Her voice remained soft but firm. "C'mon, girl, let's get you back where you belong."

The mare willingly followed Cat as the warrior made her way to the building she had identified as the stables. She found the doors barred from the outside; even the small side door was latched. The mare waited patiently while Cat opened the doors, and walked into the stables on her own. A flick of a Bic was all that was needed to light a waiting lantern, then Cat looked for an empty stall -- only to find the mare stepping into a large box stall on the end, a stall that showed every sign of being previously unoccupied. Cat was about to move the mare when she realized that it was the only empty stall in the barn.

"Where did you come from, girl?" Cat set about making the stall habitable. Within minutes the mare had a bed of clean straw, water to drink, and some hay to hold her until morning feeding. Almost without thinking Cat picked up some grooming supplies and started combing the golden coat. She felt a wave of déjà vu sweep over her as she quietly groomed the mare, not understanding the bond she felt with the animal, knowing only that here was a friend she could share everything with. So she did.

Angie stood on the porch of the empty guest cabin, wondering where Cat could have gone. Though she had missed the warrior's departure from the feast, she had quickly noticed her absence. Angie knew that Cat, like Xena, felt uncomfortable at large gatherings, and assumed that to be the reason her companion had left the Amazon celebration. Myla had been able to distract the storyteller somewhat, explaining more about the prophesies and legends surrounding the return of the gods, and attempting to renew their previous relationship, but Angie's thoughts kept returning to a raven-haired warrior.

"You're thinking about Xena, aren't you?" Myla asked, noting the distracted look on her friend's face.

"Cat, not Xena." Angie sighed as she turned to her friend. "I'm sorry, Myla. I am glad to see you, really I am, but....

"But, you've fallen in love with her?"

Angie felt the words strike home, and could no longer deny the truth in her heart. She had already accepted the reality of the legendary link forged by Aphrodite millennia ago. But now she finally admitted to herself that she was head-over-heels hopelessly and completely in love with Cassandra Alexandra Thornwell. A single tear escaped as she nodded silently.

"Don't cry, sweetie." Myla slid a comforting arm around the blonde's shoulders. "Everything is as it should be. I've known for almost four years that you were destined to spend your life with another."

"Then, why . . . ?" Angie looked at her friend in confusion.

"How else were you going to finally realize the truth inside your heart?" Myla gently asked. "Angie, I will always treasure the two years we had together. We were each others firsts, and I love you. But your heart, and your soul, will accept only one person as your life-partner, and that person is Cat."

"But, she doesn't have Xena's memories, all she knows about her life as Xena is what I've told her. I know she'll stay until Da..Dahok is taken care of, but afterwards….."

"Honey, the Goddess of Love personally blessed the union of your two souls for all eternity." Myla brushed the rogue tear from her friend's cheek. "Not even Cat will be able to resist that bond."

"But I don't want her to love me because she has to," Angie objected. "I want her to love because . . .she loves me."

Angie sighed and stepped off the porch. She followed the path into the village, and started toward the pond she had noticed earlier. The unmistakable aroma of the stables drifted into her awareness, and a memory arose: Xena, confused or hurt or frustrated, spending hour after hour sharing her fears and her tears with her patient steed. Angie followed her instincts and stepped into the barn.

The sight that filled her eyes brought her to a standstill, so perfectly did it match the image in her head. There stood Cat, her back to the door, gently combing out a white mane. The horse looked up, its gaze meeting Angie's, and the storyteller's heart skipped a beat.

"Argo?"

Cat turned as the soft whisper reached her ears. Her breath caught as she took in the storyteller's beauty. The mare broke the moment by nudging the warrior, who had not yet removed all the snarls from the white mane.

"She looks just like Argo," Angie commented, moving beside her companion. "Guess we're not the only ones the gods brought back."

"Guess not." Cat started working on the last tangled area. "Party over?"

"Pretty much. Myla filled me in on some things that Gabrielle never knew, prophesy stuff that the various priestesses had recorded after Gabrielle and Xena's passing." Angie leaned against the stall door. "I think you were right – we need to blend our past memories with our present skills to win this one."

"Then we had better get some sleep." Cat pulled the comb one more time through the flowing mane then tossed it into the grooming bucket. "Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

"What are we doing tomorrow?" Angie asked as they walked back toward the cabin.

"First, you're going to fill me in on those prophesies. And then we find out what kind of fighters these uber-Amazons really are."

Cat watched contentedly as the mare munched contentedly on an apple. Though it was only half an hour past dawn, she had already spent an hour on the mare's back, putting her through her paces. The mare showed every sign of having been trained specifically for Cat; every cue the warrior had used with Demon, whom she had trained herself, the mare responded to promptly and correctly. Though Cat's initial reaction to the idea that a horse had been reincarnated was amused disbelief, she was now seriously considering the possibility.

"But I'm NOT going to call you Argo," she told the mare.

"So, what are you going to call her?"

Cat turned to see one of the Amazons leaning against the barn door. Dark blonde hair framed a friendly face, and grey eyes met Cat's without hesitation. The woman wore a blacksmith's apron over jeans and a T-shirt, and held a half-eaten pear in one hand.

"And how did you manage to catch her? She showed up the day after Moira left to find you, and hasn't let anyone get near her."

"Looks like she was waiting for me," Cat answered with a wry grin. "And I think I'll call her Gekkani. It's Japanese for 'in the moonlight,' and that's how I first saw her."

The Amazon nodded in approval.

"By the way, I'm Ceejay – resident blacksmith and weaponsmaster." Ceejay took a bite out of her pear. "I've arranged a special training session for this afternoon, if that's alright with you. Our warriors are eager to test themselves against a legend."

"I'm not a legend." Cat stepped up to the weaponsmaster, looking down at the shorter woman. "I'm not Xena."

"You're a legend reborn, and you'd better get used to being treated like one." Ceejay held Cat's gaze. "We all believe in the reality of the past, in the truth of the prophesies Most of us have at least ghosts of memories of being part of the Amazon Nation; some more than others. Mine surfaced with crystal clarity in the days following the Storm. But to all of us, you and Angie are two of our greatest heroes, returned to us by the grace of the gods to fulfill your destiny. And you'll just have to deal with that."

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear." Cat took another step forward, forcing Ceejay back against the door. "I may be one of your legends reborn. But I do not hold Xena's memories, only my own. So don't expect me to suddenly don a mask and become part of your little community. Is that clear?"

"Crystal." Ceejay waited until Cat had turned to leave. "But Cat, there's something I think you should know."

"What's that?" Cat asked without stopping.

"You may not remember being Xena. But you sure sound like her."

"So three scrolls full of prophesy and we don't know any more than we did before?" Cat buckled the last strap on her bracer. "That's helpful."

"At least we had our theories about Callisto and everything else confirmed." Angie munched contentedly on a fresh ham and cheese kolache. "One thing is bothering me, however."

"What's that?"

"Uber-Amazons?" Angie reached for the pitcher of milk. "You called them Uber-Amazons last night."

"Well, that is an appropriate reference, isn't it?" Cat took the offered glass of milk and drained it in one long swallow. "Umm, thanks." She looked up sharply as Angie began giggling. Unable to contain her laughter, the storyteller just ran one finger along her top lip. "Oh, milk mustache." The warrior took a moment to wipe the stray milk from around her mouth. "As I was saying, I had a . . . an acquaintance who was into Xena and the fan thing; she would occasionally rattle on about this subculture of amateur writers who posted their stories on the Internet. I picked up a few of the buzz words, I guess."

"Oh." An acquaintance, hmm? "Some of that fanfiction was pretty good; I even kept up with a few writers' works. And, yes, Uber-Amazons would be a correct reference, as far as those stories are concerned. But I doubt they'd appreciate being called that."

"Okay." Cat picked up her sword and looked at her companion. "Let's go find out what kind of fighters these Amazons are."

Two hours later an exhausted Cat called a break on the practice field. It had taken every ounce of skill and energy at her disposal, but the raven-haired warrior had managed to hold the field against every fighter in the village. Sitting against a tree with a mug of fresh water, Cat settled in to observe her companion take her turn against the Amazons. Rare were the moments when she could just sit back and watch the storyteller, and Cat intended to take advantage of the opportunity. But the sound of quiet footsteps interrupted her solitude.

"That was an impressive demonstration." Myla sat down next to the warrior. "Mind if I join you?"

"Would it matter if I did?" Cat's eyes never left the blonde figure sparring with Moira.

"Yes, it would." Myla noted what held the warrior's attention. "She's good, maybe better than Gabrielle was at her age."

"You really remember that clearly?" Cat turned to look at the young queen.

"Hon, it took me almost six months of daily meditations to put those memories on a back burner. For two days I thought I was Ephiny; I couldn't speak or understand English, and I kept looking for my mask!" Myla chuckled. Fortunately our priestess, Shalamar, speaks Greek, and was able to keep me calm." The Amazon queen looked thoughtfully at the warrior. "You know, I'm not sure which one of us is the lucky one: me for my memories, or you for your lack of them."

"I just wish she didn't remember." Cat's voice was soft, with a hint of bitterness. "I . . . ."

"Your Majesty!" A young Amazon came running up, skidding to a stop on her knees in front of Myla. "A messenger from Haven, your Majesty. She says she has an urgent message for the Warrior and the Bard."

Myla looked past the panting runner and gestured the waiting messenger forward. The messenger's arrival was noticed by those on the field, and soon a small crowd was gathered around the Amazon queen. Angie quietly slid past the taller women and stood leaning against the tree next to Cat.

"Your Majesty, I bring a message from Ice and Mallory." The messenger looked at Cat and Angie. "The message is this: 'The silent orderly has spoken. That which killed Callisto is within reach. Come at once.' That is all."

Cat rose in one smooth motion and turned to face Angie.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" the storyteller asked. Cat nodded.

"Hind's Blood."

Angie yawned and stretched, trying to summon enough energy to get back on her feet and back on her horse. She thought she recognized the rest spot; if she was right they were almost halfway to Haven. They had maintained a fast pace since leaving the Amazon village, but now the sun had set, and exhaustion was starting to set in. The horses may have had a restful day, but Angie was ready for a few hours of sleep. She considered asking Cat if they could stay here for a while, but then she remembered their conversation in the stables.

"You can't be serious!"

Cat ignored her companion's outburst and adjusted the cinch on Gekkani's saddle.

"Cat, we've only got about three hours of sunlight left. Wouldn't it make more sense to wait and get a fresh start in the morning?" Angie walked around to the other side of the patient mare. "Well, wouldn't it?"

"A child who hasn't spoken a word in over three years starts talking about Hind's Blood, and you want to wait until morning?" Cat started loading the rest of her gear behind the saddle. "As soon as I fill the waterskins I'm leaving. If I push straight thru I should be there by midnight. You can either come with me, or not. Up to you."

"You'd leave me behind?"

Cat was definitely not prepared for the pain in the storyteller's voice. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the answering ache in her own heart. "No. I . . . I couldn't leave you behind." Another deep breath. "And that's something I think we need to talk about." There, she'd said it.

"I agree," Angie responded softly. "Why don't we talk about it on the road?"

Angie knew that if she told Cat she was exhausted and needed to sleep, the warrior would probably agree to setting up camp. But Cat was right, they needed to get to Haven and talk to that girl as soon as possible. Besides, they still had something to talk about.

"Ready?" Cat stood behind her companion, Gekkani's reins held loosely in one hand, and BeeBay's in the other.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Angie grumbled as she rose to her feet. BeeBay nuzzled her affectionately as she took the reins from Cat. "C'mon, boy, time to get going."

Moments later the two women were back en route to Haven. The moon, only a few nights past full, lit there way along the well-maintained road. For the better part of an hour they traveled in silence, as they had since leaving the Amazons. But then boredom, weariness, and curiosity brought an end to Angie's patience, and she decided that it was time she and Cat had that talk.

"Cat?"

"Hmmm?"

"Did you mean what you said in the barn? That you could never leave me?" Angie held her breath as second after second passed. Finally, she summoned enough courage to look at her silent companion. At the same time Cat turned to look at her, and for a long moment the two women looked into each others souls. A brief eternity later the moment passed, and both women slowly realized that their mounts had stopped walking.

"Yes." Hearing that one word somehow made Angie's world complete. "I don't know where this is going, but I do know that right now I can't imagine my life without you in it."

"Funny, isn't it?" Angie reached out, gently caressing her companion's cheek. "We finally find each other, and we can't even take the time to . . . ." Angie's voice trailed off as Cat turned her head and softly kissed the storyteller's palm. "Damnit, Cat, I wish we could just ride off somewhere and forget all about Callisto and Ares and . . . ."

"So do I." Cat reached up and took Angie's hand in her own. "But we can't. We're heroes, remember? We have to save the world. " Cat's grin was infectious, and Angie could not resist smiling in return.

"Then we'd better get to Haven." The storyteller reluctantly pulled her hand from Cat's and picked up her reins. "But when this is over, Cassandra Alexandra Thornwell, we are definitely going to talk about this again."

"You can count on it."

Shortly after midnight the two women rode into Haven, heading straight to Ice and Mallory's temporary residence. To their surprise light showed thru the shutters, and Ice was sitting outside waiting for them.

"I didn't think you'd be here until tomorrow evening, but Ruth insisted that you'd be here at midnight." He hugged his sister, and then Angie, much to the storyteller's surprise. "I'll take your horses around to the stables. Mallory and Ruth are waiting for you."

Gekkani snorted and tossed her head as Ice reached for her reins.

"Whoa, there." Ice stepped back from the mare. "That's some horse you found, Lexie."

"Guess I'd better introduce you," Cat said laughingly. "Gekkani, this is Ice. He's a friend."

Ice watched in amazement as the mare, responding to no apparent physical cues from his sister, stepped forward and took in his scent. Then the horse looked back at Cat and snorted before picking up the fallen reins in her mouth and offering them to Ice.

"You're right, little brother. She is some horse."

Ice just laughed as he led the two animals toward the stables. Laughing themselves the tired companions stepped onto the porch, and Cat rapped softly on the door.

The door opened almost immediately, and there stood Mallory. Her Hell-Hound uniform had been exchanged for jeans and a sweatshirt, and her sable hair fell loose around her shoulders. She held a small white cat in one arm, and a larger calico sauntered out the door, detouring to rub against Angie's ankle before disappearing into the darkness.

"I see you've found some friends," Cat commented.

"Come on in." Mallory stepped back, holding the door open for her guests. As they stepped inside Cat notices several more felines lounging around the bunkhouse. "Actually, I think the cats are here because of Ruth." Mallory gestured toward the fireplace, where a small form sat surrounded by several cats. As the young girl looked up, one of the cats rose and jumped into her lap. The girl's eyes suddenly seemed to glow in the firelight.

"This is Nuru." The girl's voice was still hoarse from three years of disuse. "He helps me talk."

The cat, an elegant Abyssinian, looked once at the newcomers as they pulled up chairs, then settled down for a nap.

"I had a dream last night." Ruth's eyes seemed to focus on a point just above their heads. "I saw a woman who looked like Callisto holding a knife. She poured some blood out of a small bottle onto the knife, then she poured some of the blood into another bottle, it looked like blue glass. Next I saw someone who looked like Cat holding the knife and it was covered with dried blood. She stabbed Callisto. Then I saw the blue glass bottle sitting inside a chest with a lot of jewelry and stuff. The chest was someplace different; I saw some people carrying the chest, and all of them were black, wearing really strange robes." Ruth paused, and Mallory handed her a cup of water. The girl took a few sips, her eyes still focused on nothing. "The last things I saw were the chest surrounded by a bunch of other stuff, with one of those big red ropes between two poles in front of it, and a sign that said "display closed" hanging from the rope, and then I saw this really neat building from the outside." Ruth blinked a few times, and smiled as Mallory brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face.

"When Ruth told us about her dream, we realized that she had seen Callisto hiding some of the Hind's Blood," Mallory explained. "And Ice recognized her description of the building."

"Your message said it was close." Cat turned to look at her brother, who had just returned from the stables. "How close? And do you think Callisto knows where it is?"

"She doesn't have a clue," Ice responded. "If she did, she'd already have it."

"Let me take a wild guess here," Angie interrupted, "but the vial is somewhere in Boston?"

"In a museum of African arts and culture, about ten blocks from Callisto's fortress."

A week later Cat and Angie arrived in a small town a long day's ride outside of Callisto's Realm. They both laughed when they read the sign still standing outside the town:

"I'm surprised Callisto hasn't destroyed this place just on general principle," Cat commented.

"Well, from the looks of things, I'd say their population is closer to two hundred than two thousand." Angie's eyes quickly examined the dozen buildings still standing. "That old motel looks like it might still be in use."

"And that looks like a trade caravan camped over there." Cat nodded off to the south. "With any luck they'll be heading into Callisto's territory."

"Room first, then dinner." Angie turned BeeBay toward the motel. "I'm hungry, and the trade caravan will still be there in the morning."

Cat laughed as she followed her partner to the motel, which proved not only to be in use, but almost full; it took all of Angie's not inconsiderable verbal skills to convince the manager that one full butane lighter was indeed a fair trade for his last room, a meal, and stalls for their mounts. She wasn't able to get the manager to included feed for the horses, but Cat had sufficient grain to get them thru the night. While the warrior went to get BeeBay and Gekkani settled, Angie nursed a mug of ale and reviewed their plans.

Cat and Angie had spent hours discussing possible infiltration plans with Ice and Mallory. They reluctantly agreed with Mallory's assessment that they would be safer travelling separately thru Callisto's Realm. The former Hell-Hounds were able to put together a uniform for Cat, having decided that it would be easiest for her to disguise herself as one of Callisto's soldiers. Wearing a Hell-Hound uniform and a courier's armband, she should have no trouble passing herself off as a messenger carrying reports back to Boston.

How to get Angie to Boston took significantly more brainstorming. The most obvious choices were quickly discarded; Angie could never pass as a soldier, and while there were travelling storytellers in Callisto's Realm, that was too big a risk. Finally the four conspirators agreed that the only reasonable option was for Angie to travel as a trader -- or rather, with a trader. Mallory had assured them that, contrary to their initial belief, many people wanted to move into Callisto's Realm, willing to trade some small freedoms for the security provided by Callisto's military regime. A number of merchants conducted trade across the border (paying a hefty border tax, of course), and often provided transportation for solitary travelers.

The town of Zena was as close as they dared get to the border before splitting up, and Cat had started wearing the Hell-Hound uniform earlier that day. Ice had assured them that many couriers found "companionship" for part of their journey, at least outside of Callisto's borders. Neither woman looked forward to their imminent separation, but they realized that it was the safest way. By Cat's calculations, she and Gekkani should reach Boston in seven days, if the weather stayed clear. Angie, on the other hand, would not arrive until anywhere from three to five days later, depending upon how fast the trade caravan was travelling and how often they stopped. Ice and Mallory had several suggestions on a meeting place, but Cat had decided it would be easier if she just kept an eye out for Angie's arrival, since there was only one main road coming into Boston from the west.

"Hello, pretty." Angie looked up to find a grungy, bear-like man leering down at her. "What's a pretty young thing like you doing here all alone?"

"I'm not alone." Angie cursed herself for taking a seat against a wall; she had no room to maneuver. "I'm waiting for a friend."

"And you found one."

Great, Angie thought. I'm in here for five minutes and I get hit on by a Romeo whose lines are older than I am!

"Uh, I really wouldn't sit down if I were you," Angie suggested as 'Romeo' reached for a chair. "My friend might not like it."

"Oh, is that a fact?" the man asked sarcastically.

"Yes, it is." Giving a further indication of his limited mental prowess, 'Romeo' failed to recognize the menace dripping from Cat's voice as she approached. Turning to find the source of that voice, he suddenly went pale at the sight of the red and black uniform.

"Uh, sor…sorry, I…I didn't realize . . .please, I didn't know!" The man knocked over a chair as he tried to get away from Cat. The warrior took a single step towards the terrified local, who proceded to knock over several more chairs as he fled the inn.

"I'm not sure what he was more afraid of, you or the uniform." Angie's comment prompted a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk. "Got the horses settled?"

"Uh-huh, and talked with one of the caravan guards. The caravan is headed south, but there is one trader leaving for Boston day after tomorrow."

"Well, I would have preferred the caravan, but at least someone is going in the right direction."

"That's him." Cat nodded toward a man who had just entered the dining room. The trader was a tall, gaunt man, with wavy brown hair falling past his shoulders. Angie judged his age to be somewhere between twenty and thirty. He wore a deep green tunic belted over brown pants, which were tucked into knee-high soft leather boots. His eyes met Angie's, and for a brief moment it was as if she could actually see the goodness in his soul.

"Angie, what is it?" Cat grew concerned about the look on her companion's face.

"I . . . I don't know how to explain it, but . . . I trust him." Angie looked once more at the trader, who had taken a seat on the other side of the room. "It was as if I could see a bit of his soul, and it was all light and goodness."

"You did ask the gods for help," Cat reminded the near-speechless storyteller. "Maybe they . . . ."

The warrior was interrupted by the arrival of a waitress, and dinner. Conversation paused as the two women enjoyed their meal in silence. Finally the dishes were cleared, the mugs were refilled with ale, and both women were too comfortably stuffed to think about anything more serious than a bath, and sleep.

"Tell me again about Xena's memories." Callisto stopped her pacing to look down at Ares, comfortably ensconced in her throne. "And get out of my chair."

"Now, Calli, is that any way to talk to your patron?" The patronizing expression disappeared off the God of War's face as Callisto grabbed his arm and hurled him across the room. Furious, Ares whirled on his disciple. "Remember your place, mortal! Xena may have created the first Callisto, but I created YOU and I can break you just as easily!"

"My, my, did we get up on the wrong side of the foxhole this morning?" Callisto settled herself on the throne. "Really, Ares, why don't you go get laid or kill somebody or something? You are entirely too uptight."

"Callisto . . ." growled the fuming god, as energy gathered in his cupped hand.

The blonde tyrant intercepted the hurled energy with a bolt of her own, creating an explosion of light in the center of her throne room.

"I've been practicing ever since you gave me that little down-payment on my new godhood," Callisto informed a stunned Ares. "Such an elegantly simple use of power. Now, tell me about Xena's memories, and how she can get them back."

"Zeus insisted that I include a way for her memories to be restored, so I did." Ares gestured and his own throne appeared opposite Callisto's. "But I threw in a little twist." He sprawled across his throne with a self-satisfied smirk. "First, she has to truly believe that she IS Xena. Second, she has to accept that irritating bard as her life-partner."

"You've can't be serious!" Callisto interrupted incredulously. "So, where's the twist?"

"If you'll let me continue . . .where was I? Ah, yes . . .Third, this is the good one, she has to NOT want the memories back. If she wants to remember her life as Xena, she never will." Ares looked at Callisto expectantly. "Well? Am I good, or am I good?"

"Do I get a third option?" A totally fake expression of I-was-just-joking flashed briefly across Callisto's face. "Now, back to business. The Hell-Hounds should be arriving within the week with Xena and her little sidekick. You're sure I won't need special chains to hold her?"

"Positive, her strength came from her father, and the blood is so diluted now that she's no stronger than your average mortal. No need to worry on that account." Ares looked thoughtful. "You'd better keep her dry and warm; I don't want her catching pneumonia."

"Don't you mean her strength came from YOU?"

Ares shook his head.

"Contrary to rumors, I am not Xena's father. But neither was that pathetic excuse of a soldier her mother was married to. Her father was . . . not mortal. I am forbidden to say more."

Callisto was stunned.

"Forbidden? Since when did you willingly obey any edict of Zeus's?"

"The ban comes not from Zeus, but from the one power that even we gods must occasionally yield to." Callisto had never seen Ares look so serious. "The Fates. The Fates have decreed that any being, mortal or god, who reveals the true parentage of Xena of Amphipolis will permanently and forever cease to exist."