My Soul,...My Choice
Chapter Two: A New Beginning

Iolaus turned to face the two women walking toward them, one a Celtic Druid of Justice, a woman he'd wondered a lot about, wondered if she was Hercules' new partner. Morrigan, a demigod in her own right, someone who had to be important to Herc. How important, he didn't know. They hadn't talked about it�not yet anyway.

The other woman, Queen of Sumeria and former pirate, Nebula�the woman he'd loved and died to save and, in dying had unleashed an unfathomable evil upon the world while he spent almost a year in his own personal hell.

Morrigan, never shy, marched straight up to him, looking him up and down with one brow quirked in curiosity. "So�you'll be the famous, Iolaus. I've heard a lot about you from these two and I'm pleased to be able to make your acquaintance." She held out a hand instinctively to grip his arm, then realized it was foolish�though she could see him, and he was real enough, in some ways, he was also an illusion.

Iolaus saw the gesture and cocked his head a little, uncomfortable as well, but then he conjured up a grin and nodded, as he replied, "I'm glad to meet you, too, Morrigan. I�well, you helped Hercules when he needed someone most and I'm grateful to you."

Hercules shifted a little at the unexpected comment wondering how much Iolaus knew about his relationship with Morrigan, wondering how he knew, while the Druid looked surprised, then pleased. Nebula was fast finding it all very frustrating. She stared at the place where it seemed Iolaus must be, and she knew he was speaking by the way the other two listened, but she could hear nothing. Iolaus saw the tight expression on her face, her discomfort, and murmured, "Herc�tell Nebula I'm sorry that she can't see or hear what's going on right now."

Hercules looked from Iolaus to Nebula, and relayed the message. She floundered a bit, her arms a little wide and almost helpless, a gesture that few ever saw in her presence. "It's just that I don't know what's going on. Iolaus�damn I wish I could see you! I wanted to tell you, wanted you to know�I'm sorry. Sorry about everything."

Iolaus swallowed and looked away, emotions surging within him, frustrated and angry that he couldn't answer her directly, that what needed to be said between them had to be relayed through others. He didn't realize what was happening until she gasped, and his eyes sought hers, and found them looking straight into his. Her hand had come up to her mouth and there were tears in her eyes�so much there she wanted to say.

Understanding now, given the experience of traveling with Timeron, a young ghost with unfinished business with Sisyphus, Iolaus gave her a wry smile as he observed, "Guess you can see me now, huh?"

When she nodded, speechless, he moved toward her, cocking his head to the side, as he suggested, "Walk with me?"

Hercules and Morrigan watched them walk a little away, the Druid biting her lip. Turning to Hercules, she said, "I think, maybe, you and I also have some things we need to be saying."

"What's going on, Iolaus?" Nebula asked, her voice low, as she gazed at him with wonder and trepidation.

Iolaus looked at her as he answered, "I've decided not to go back to the Other Side, and Hades has agreed to let me remain here. I�well, I know Herc needs me and, frankly, I need to be with him."

Swallowing, she nodded a little and looked away. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "This should never have happened to you."

He reached out unconsciously, then let his hand fall, useless and helpless, to his side. Speaking with a low, intense tone, he replied, "Nebula�there isn't anything for you to be sorry about. You were a victim of Dahok every bit as much as I was. I'm not sorry I chose to save your life. I loved you�you know that. Part of me still does."

Tilting her head up to give him a sideways glance, she licked her lips and sighed. "I love you, too, Goldilocks. And I miss you. But�I knew even before�well, I knew you belonged at his side. Your heart�your life, would never have been with me in Sumeria."

Iolaus looked away, nodding, acknowledging the truth of that, though he'd felt confused at the time. "I guess I just can't see myself as a King," he quipped back with a slow grin.

"Well, 'King Monkeyboy' does have an odd ring to it," she joked back, then had to bite off a sob. Turning to him, she said simply, "You would have been a magnificent king�but that was never the point. Never will be, I guess. But�how will you manage like this? Invisible most of the time?"

Iolaus chuckled ruefully as he answered, "Hey, I felt invisible most of the time even before this happened!" But, sighing, he continued, his shadowed eyes revealing his own uncertainty, "To be honest�I don't know. But, I do know we'll find a way to work it out. We always do."

"If there's ever any thing I can do to help�you know I will," she vowed, then whispered again. "I love you." But, knowing there was nothing either of them could say to make this any easier, she raised her chin, every inch the regal queen. "It's time I sailed back home. My people need me."

"I know," Iolaus replied, softly. "Thank you for coming here, to help Hercules fight Dahok. I know�I know how terrible it was for you. That facing him couldn't have been easy. You're a brave woman, Nebula. Your people are lucky to have you for their Queen."

She bit her lip and looked away, wanting nothing so much as to grab hold of him and never let go. But it wasn't to be, wasn't possible in any way. Looking back to where Hercules and Morrigan were talking, she knew she couldn't stand a protracted farewell. Best just to be gone. "Will you tell the big guy I'll always have room for the two of you in the palace if you ever come back to Sumeria?"

"I will," Iolaus replied, smiling softly, deciding this wasn't the time to point out he didn't take up much space�or that neither of them would never, ever want to return there. "Be well, Nebula."

She lifted her arms helplessly, signaling her desire to hug him and he nodded, understanding. She gazed at him a moment longer, noticing he was already beginning to fade, tears in her eyes, then nodded and strode away.

"I'm thinking that since you got your Iolaus back, you won't be needin' another partner, Hercules," Morrigan began briskly, looking him straight in the eye.

"Morrigan, I�" he began, feeling helpless, hardly able to deal with this after the last harrowing hour, knowing this wasn't fair to her, but also knowing she was right.

But, she cut him off. "And I'm guessin' you won't be coming back with me to Eire," she continued, wanting this done, like lancing a painful wound. Best to just get it over, quick and clean.

Hercules looked away, then back at her, lifting his hands to rest them on her shoulders, as he answered, sincerity ringing in his voice, "Thank you for coming here with me, to fight Dahok. And�thank you for so much more. You helped me start to find myself again�gave me reason to keep going on. But�you're right. Iolaus is a part of me and the two of us belong in Greece."

She tightened her jaw and nodded. The Druid of Justice didn't cry�got mad maybe, but didn't cry. Taking a deep breath, she finished it. "Well�I'll be goin' then. I have responsibilities to my own people, as you do to yours. Be well, Hercules�and know that Eire will always remember you."

She made to pull away, but he tugged her close, hugging her gently as he rested his lips on her forehead for a moment in a gesture of remembered tenderness. Pulling back, his voice husky, he murmured, "And you, Morrigan�you be safe. I will never forget you."

She nodded tightly, then pulled away, a determined, forthright, fiery force for Justice, blinking rapidly but her head up as she marched away toward the port at Corinth.

Iolaus turned back after Nebula had disappeared into the forest, heading toward her ship at Napthlion, and saw Morrigan striding off the other way, over the rolling plain toward Corinth. Hercules turned to face him and they regarded one another silently for a moment, suddenly awkward. Iolaus rubbed the back of his neck then moved to join his partner. "So, you want to head anywhere in particular?" he asked.

Hercules shrugged as he looked around. The day was ending and they'd not get far before sunset. "Tomorrow will be soon enough," he replied as he gazed back at Iolaus, marveling that he had his partner back, still hardly able to grasp it. "There's a clearing over there, a stream nearby. We could stay there tonight and head out in the morning."

Iolaus nodded, looking past Hercules, a sober expression on his face. "There's something you have to do before we go," he said, tilting his head toward the object of his attention.

Hercules half turned and froze, swallowed hard, and then nodded. "I'll take care of it," he answered, his voice tight, his face turned away. In a daze, he headed toward the forest to gather dry wood with which to build a pyre�and wondered how he could ever bring himself to strike the flame.

Iolaus got his first taste of feeling useless as he stood by and watched his friend pile wood over the body. Hercules was moving stiffly, as if holding himself under rigid control. Finally, he'd stacked enough and knelt to spark a flame on the kindling at the base of the funeral pyre. He hesitated for a long moment, then his shoulders again tightened and he clashed his gauntlets together, creating the essential spark. When it caught, the demigod stood back a step, his back toward Iolaus, his arms crossed tightly while he silently watched the flames lick at the wood, catch and burst into a bright, hot fire.

When the warrior soul saw the demigod's head bow, and his shoulders tremble, he moved forward to stand beside his friend, his eyes on the now raging fire. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

Hercules turned his head a little away, his jaw rigid as he swallowed hard, trying to maintain some vestige of control. Unable to speak, he shook his head, feeling the tremble of grief sweep up through his chest.

"I'm sorry, Herc�I know this is hard on you. But I just couldn't�" Iolaus murmured, his voice fading away.

"I know," Hercules choked out, his voice barely a broken whisper. "And�it's crazy I guess�you're here. But�." What could he say? That it was killing him to burn the body that had fought beside him, reminded him how to laugh when he'd forgotten how�that had bounded across hills toward danger, just to back him up, that had shown him how to hunt�that had been his constant companion and best loved friend for the whole of his life. He knew it didn't make any sense, that it was ridiculous, and he wanted to respect Iolaus' decision. But he felt such an overwhelming loss that he could hardly breathe.

"Come on�let's go make camp," Iolaus suggested, with a quick, sidelong look up into his friend's face, wincing at the tears that glittered in Hercules' eyes, and the track of one which had escaped to slip down his cheek. "That's not me, Herc�that's just an empty, used up shell. Let it go."

Gripping Hercules' arm for a moment, his touch cool and feathery, he turned and headed across the meadow toward the trees, relieved when after only a brief hesitation Herc turned and followed him.

Not long after, Iolaus sat on a log by the campfire Hercules had laid out, waiting for his friend to come back from gathering something for his dinner. Looking back toward the now smoldering pyre, he wondered if he'd made a mistake. Wondered if he should have swallowed his revulsion and made do�but he knew it would have been too much. To look at those hands, knowing what they had done. To have walked around in the body of a demon�the thought of it made him sick.

But, he too mourned the loss of what he'd once been. Strong. Capable. Gods, today he hadn't even been able to touch a woman he loved, let alone his grieving friend. Sighing, he looked around their spartan camp, wishing he was out there hunting�not just sitting here. Chewing on his inner lip, he stared at a leaf on a nearby bush and narrowed his eyes. 'Might as well learn what I can do,' he thought, concentrating on the leaf, frowning with effort, cursing softly when it barely moved at all.

"Something wrong?" Hercules asked, coming to sit by the fire, his back to the smoking ashes behind them, trying for normalcy. Iolaus jumped with a muttered oath�he'd been so focused on the leaf he hadn't heard Hercules returning. Frowning now, Herc asked again, "What is it?"

Iolaus rolled his eyes as he waved toward the bush. "Just checking out my repertoire of tricks," he said sarcastically. When Herc looked confused, he added, miserably, "I was trying to move the damned leaf, and not doing very well I might add."

"Oh," Hercules replied, his eyes straying to the leaf in question. "Well, it looks mean and stubborn. A little like someone I know." A shadow of grin played around his lips as he bit into an apple.

Iolaus cut a scathing look at him, then sighed and grinned a little as he shook his head. "Sorry�I'm just having a little trouble adjusting."

"Give yourself a bit of time, Iolaus," Hercules encouraged. "You've only been back, what, less than a day. You'll figure it out."

Uncertain, Iolaus searched his friend's eyes, as he asked, "Was I wrong? Did I make a really big mistake refusing to go back into that�"

All expression bleached from Hercules' face as he looked down�but then shook his head. Iolaus couldn't even refer to his old body without a tone of revulsion. He could never have been comfortable inside it again. "No," the demigod assured him quietly, looking back up at his best friend. "No. It was hard for me to�and getting used to this will take us both some time. But, I thought about it, when I was looking for something to eat, and I realized you'd made the only decision you could live with. The important thing, the only thing that really matters to me is that you are here."

When Iolaus looked away, wondering what good he'd be, Hercules continued as if reading his mind, almost babbling with awkward reassurance, "Besides, there are some advantages this way. I get to sleep all night since you'll be standing watch�I assume you don't need to sleep? And, if we aren't constantly having to stop someplace to find food for you, we'll be able to travel a lot faster�."

Iolaus chuckled softly as he caught the teasing glint in his friend's eyes. Rolling his own, he replied with a long-suffering look, "You're right�you'll be able to get your beauty sleep." But, he didn't mention the crack about eating�he didn't want to risk revealing how much he wished he could enjoy one of those apples Herc had carried back to the camp.

Eating was going to be one more thing that he was going to remember that he missed, now that he was back.

Hercules moaned in his sleep that night, tears slipping unconsciously down his face. Iolaus watched, but didn't wake him. The guy had a right to the privacy of a few bad dreams. When Herc settled into an easier sleep not long after, the warrior soul relaxed and looked up, admiring the clear night sky, the glittering stars and the incredible moon that seemed to smile down upon them.

A few minutes later, he went back to working on the leaf.

They started out early the next day, while the morning was still new, the light gentle on the hills and the air soft, with just the hint of a breeze. They'd decided to head first to Corinth, to see Iphicles, and then up to Thebes, to let Jason know all that had happened. Despite his misgivings of the evening before, Iolaus was almost rapturous with pleasure at being back in the world. Striding along, a step and a half ahead of Hercules, as usual, he eagerly took in everything around him, stopping every once in a while just to admire a view he'd seen a thousand times before. Whistling as he went along, he'd toss the occasional observation or question back to his buddy and would throw a look over his shoulder every once in a while, touched by the grin that seemed to have settled permanently on Hercules' face as he watched his best friend enjoying himself.

They encountered other travelers that day, lots of them. People who had been driven from their homes in fear of the demon marching toward them, farmers who'd been afraid of seeing their fields destroyed, soldiers on patrol, merchants drawing wagons of goods for trading�and all recognized Hercules, stopping, wanting to thank him.

"You saved us, Hercules, no doubt about it, killing that terrible demon. We'll never be able to thank you enough," affirmed a sturdy farmer, pushing a handcart of produce to the market. The lean, weathered man regarded the demigod with a kind of awe.

Awkward, not wanting praise for what he'd done, uncomfortable with being heralded as the sole hero of the encounter, Hercules glanced at Iolaus as he replied for the first time that day�but not the last, "Thank you�but, I didn't do it alone. My partner, Iolaus, came back from the Other Side to attack Dahok. He's the one who deserves the real credit."

Iolaus grinned a little and shook his head, one brow cocked as he waited for the farmer's reply. "Your partner? Oh, the man whose body the demon took. Came back did he? Well, good for him. He'll rest easier now, I've no doubt."

Hercules was about to explain when Iolaus cut in with a voice the farmer couldn't hear, "Leave it, Herc. You'll only confuse him and probably scare him silly to think there's a ghost stalking the land." It had gone like this all morning and into the afternoon. 'Iolaus who?', 'Partner?', 'Yes, well�I'm glad if he helped a little�'. At first Iolaus had been amused, thinking he'd often felt invisible but this was something else. But, as the day had worn on, amusement had faded to patience. And those had been only the pleasant comments.

There'd been others that showed lots of folks blamed him for having let Dahok loose in the world�hated him for the loved ones they'd lost to the demon. At those times, he turned away, only to have to turn back and pull Hercules away from lengthy explanations and angry defenses that it hadn't been Iolaus' fault. That he'd defeated Dahok�forced him out of his body. Those folks hadn't wanted to listen, didn't care, their own loss too great. On one occasion, Iolaus thought Hercules was really going to lose it, as he raged at a tinker who'd slandered Iolaus' memory, his courage and what he'd given to save the world for Dahok, disparaging, not believing. Hercules had gone bone white, his eyes thunderous but the idiot wouldn't back down�the gods know why. When Iolaus saw his friend's fists clench, his muscles bulge dangerously, he knew he had to stop it. Calling out to the demigod didn't work, and finally he had had to walk right through the guy that Herc was nose to nose with, shouting almost incoherently about the cost Iolaus had paid, startling his partner, shocking him actually, to get his attention and draw him away.

"I'm sorry," Hercules had murmured that time once he'd regained his control.

"Just be glad they can't see me or they'd be throwing rocks." Iolaus had waved off the apology, his tone wry, but he'd kept his face turned away so that Hercules couldn't see his expression. Anger. Guilt. Profound regret. Frustration. All of those emotions and more kept roiling around inside of him. And worry about Hercules who was clearly still wracked by grief and fury.

It definitely took the edge off what had started out to be such a perfect day.

That night, Hercules was tormented by a hideous nightmare. Fragmented images of Iolaus being killed, of killing him, plunging the knife into his chest, of chasing through forests, trying to find him, of shrieking out in horror, knowing he was gone�flickering moments of overpowering loss and grief�of guilt and fury. He thrashed in his sleep, crying out�tears on his cheeks.

"WAKE UP, HERC!" Iolaus called again, ineffectually trying to shake his partner awake, to free him from whatever was tormenting him. This nightmare was going on 'way too long. "Dammit! WAKE UP!"

Hercules twitched and went still, groggy, "Wwwha'?" Seeing Iolaus, the terrible images still etched in his mind, he blanched, then his eyes lit with hope as he whispered, "Iolaus?"

"Easy, I'm here�you were having a doozie of a nightmare," Iolaus explained quietly. "You okay?"

Recollecting himself, Hercules blinked, and muttered, "Yeah�." Forcing himself up onto his elbows, then shoving himself up to sit with one hand rubbing his forehead, he muttered, "Sorry�"

"Well, it's not like you woke me up," Iolaus replied, frowning as he studied the trembling demigod. Hercules shook his head as if trying to clear away the images that still haunted him, and wiped his cheek, looking dazedly at his damp fingers. "Want to tell me about it?" the warrior soul offered, concerned.

Cutting his partner a quick look, then shifting his eyes to the dying fire, Hercules shook his head. "No�no, I don't think so. It's�I'm alright," he replied, lying but really not wanting to talk about it.

"Sure you are," Iolaus replied, his voice dry. But, there was no pushing Hercules if he didn't want to talk. "Go back to sleep�it's a few more hours before dawn."

Nodding, Hercules laid down, one arm over his eyes. "Don't worry," he murmured as he drifted back to sleep. "I'm fine."

Raking fingers through his hair, Iolaus studied his friend, his face lined with worry. "No�you're not," he whispered into the darkness. "Not yet, anyway."

Sighing, Iolaus went back to working on his kinetic power. He'd gotten quite good at pushing leaves around and had worked up to trying to levitate small sticks and then holding them in the air.

The next day, avoiding the roads and more well traveled trails, they strode across fields, along the edge of a meadow and into the forest, still bearing north toward Corinth. They passed fewer people, but still encountered some of the local people, a young woman gathering wild herbs, a hunter with a brace of pheasant, his bow slung over his shoulder, and both recognized Hercules, both almost inarticulate in their shy but heartfelt gratitude for what he'd done. Iolaus shook his head in weary amusement of Hercules' still evident discomfort at getting all the credit, while Hercules barely nodded, as he acknowledged their thanks and moved on.

Deeper into the forest, along a rutted trail, they came across a wood-cutter, just finished with filling his wagon with his harvest. "By Zeus!" he exclaimed, looking up at the tall man striding toward him, the light slanting through the trees illuminating his features. "Why, bless me, it's Hercules!"

The demigod nodded pleasantly as he approached, while the burly, middle-aged man waited for him, then reached out to grab his arm, his face almost fierce and his voice husky, as he said, "I he'rd what you done, below Mycenae. T'was a miracle, saving us from that unholy monster. I thank ye, Hercules."

Embarrassed, Hercules nodded, tired of forever hearing the thanks heaped upon him, no one understanding what his partner had risked�and lost. "I didn't do it alone," he replied, seeing Iolaus' head flash up at his words, his buddy rolling his eyes and throwing up his hands in a pantomime of amused disbelief that Hercules insisted on persisting with explanations no one wanted to hear. "My partner, Iolaus�."

"That bastard!" snarled the wood-cutter, spitting onto the ground. "Betrayed ye, betrayed us all, he did. Joining with that evil demon�."

Hercules' eyes widened at the bitter venom of the stranger's voice, only too aware of the look of stricken pain that knifed across Iolaus' face, as he hastily countered, "Wait�you don't understand�"

"Aye, I unnerstand," the man raged, tears in his eyes. "Too well. The beast burned our village, killed my whole family�my brother, gods, his eyes melted in his head, and then he was nought but a pool of steamy oil at my feet. Just because he dared say 'no' to Dahok. No. He would not kneel to the monster, so pure in his white robe�so arrogant and cruel. Aye, I unnerstand. Too well." His voice cracked then, and he turned away, gruffly brushing at his eyes as he climbed up into the wagon and flicked the reins. "Yer 'partner' betrayed us all when he chose the evil of power, and I'm sorry for ye. Gods keep you, lad."

The wagon lumbered away down the trail, leaving Hercules breathing hard, feeling sick as he turned to Iolaus. He'd wanted to protest, wanted to rage that the man didn't understand, could never begin to understand what Iolaus had sacrificed to defeat Dahok�but he couldn't. In the face of that haunting misery, his own rage had faltered. Then, the demigod's face creased with sorrow, when he saw his partner had turned away, his arms tightly crossed and his head down, trembling with guilt and horror. Moving to stand beside him, Hercules lifted a hand, as if to comfort him with his touch, but then helplessly, his throat thick, he let his arm fall to his side.

"Iolaus?" he murmured, but his partner just shook his head and moved a little away, to stand alone. If he'd been mortal, he'd have been violently ill, on his knees to rid himself of the roiling disgust and sick loathing, the guilt and immeasurable grief that raged through him for what that man had suffered. But, he was not mortal�so he could only endure.

Hercules' eyes swept the forest, not knowing what to say, how to alleviate his best friend's suffering, how to make him understand that none of that had ever been his fault, his responsibility. His eyes lighting on a massive fallen oak, he said quietly, his voice low and husky with emotion, "Iolaus�when an strong oak falls, bitten to the heart by a sharp blade it can't resist�and it's hauled away, to be the fuel to burn a town, or a dam across a river to flood out fields and villages�or shaped into a ram, to batter down a city's walls �it's not the tree's fault."

Iolaus pressed his eyes closed, his lips compressed against the desire to scream out his fury and regret, but as he heard Hercules' voice again, strong, compelling, "None of that was your fault!", his trembling eased, and his muscles gradually relaxed. Finally, he turned and wordlessly gazed back at his friend, his eyes full of gratitude for the understanding, and the affirmation of his innocence. But, his eyes darkened again at the shadows of grief and guilt that still haunted the eyes that gazed back at him. Quietly, with sharp insight he murmured, "It's not the axe's fault either, Herc."

Then, he turned and continued through the forest. Hercules blew out a long shuddering sigh, understanding now why Iolaus could not return to that body, his heart aching for the terrible burden his friend bore. But for the first time, a little of his own hidden horror at having driven that blade at such terrible risk deep into his best friend's body, eased.

They made it to Corinth later that afternoon.

"Hercules!" Iphicles greeted his brother warmly, rising from behind his desk to move around and hug the demigod, a warmth of welcome that was unusual. "I heard what happened below Mycenae�and you were just in time. Those horrors were about to storm our gates. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Hercules replied, but his gaze shifted away, as if he was looking at something his brother couldn't see. "Iphicles�you don't know the whole story."

"I'm sure I don't," acknowledged the King, concerned that Hercules seemed so weary. "Come with me, we'll go to my quarters, order a flask of wine, and you can tell me all about it."

Not long after, they were settled by a small fire, pewter goblets of red wine in their hands. Iphicles leaned forward, encouraging, "So�tell me. What happened out there?"

Hercules looked down into his goblet for a moment, then across the room, a smile playing across his lips. Turning to Iphicles, he said quietly, "Iolaus is here, Iph�just over there, in that chair."

The King stiffened, gazing reflexively at the indicated chair, his eyes flashing back to Hercules when he saw it was empty, a concerned frown darkening his visage. He wondered if his brother had finally lost his grip. Though he'd seen Hercules only once since the demigod had returned to Greece, on the trail of the demon, it had been long enough for Iphicles to learn that Iolaus had been killed almost a year before in Sumeria. The demigod had been in bad shape, barely holding himself together. Knowing what Iolaus had meant to his brother, Iphicles had been amazed Hercules had been functioning at all.

Understanding the look of concern, Hercules grinned more broadly. "Don't worry�I haven't lost my senses. Iolaus helped me defeat Dahok, going back into his body to distract him, fight him, giving me time to stab him with the hind blood. When it was over, Iolaus refused to go back to the Other Side and Hades agreed he'd earned the right to stay. So�he's back. And, he says, 'hi!'.

His brows lifting, his expression quizzical, Iphicles again turned to the empty chair. Raising his goblet to the soul he couldn't see, Iph nodded and smiled tentatively. He'd heard crazier stories in his time, and with these two, you never knew what might happen next. But�a ghost? Clearing his throat, he said as normally as he could manage, "Well, uh�welcome, Iolaus. I�it's truly wonderful to have you back. The gods know, Hercules was lost without you. But�if it's not rude to ask�why didn't you bring your body with you?"

Hercules choked on the wine he'd just swallowed, then brushed the back of his hand across his mouth. "That's�a long story," he rasped.

Taking his time, keeping it as simple as possible, one eye on Iolaus to ensure he wasn't telling anything his buddy didn't want shared, Hercules told his brother why his best friend had chosen to leave his body behind. Iphicles listened, casting an unreadable glance from time to time to the 'empty chair', especially when Hercules seemed to be checking or listening to something Iolaus wanted to add. It was frustrating� and it hurt. Though they'd had difficult times, largely Iphicles acknowledged to himself because of his own insecurities, Iolaus had always stood by him when it mattered, even at the risk of his own life�even against old friends and comrades. Over the years, he'd come to think of Iolaus as a second brother, someone to count on, to know would always be there, someone to respect� and to love for all the enthusiasm, laughter and sheer decency that the warrior brought into the world.

When Hercules had finished his difficult recounting of events, Iphicles nodded once somberly, ducking his head to take a sip of wine. There was a long silence, then Iphicles looked up and back at the empty chair, tears in his eyes, as he said, "I'm sorry, I can't seem to find the words�." His voice cracked and he swallowed, trying for control. Sniffing a little, blinking, he sighed and continued, "When Hercules told me you'd been killed, I felt as though part of my world had died�I guess because it had. I've missed you, missed knowing you were in the world, somewhere, backing this big lug up when he bit off more than he could chew. I'm�I'm glad you found a way back. But�I'm also selfish enough to be sorry I can't see or hear you. And�," he sighed again, shaking his head, still not able to find the words that could convey all that he felt, "you deserve so much more than to be locked in the shadow of silence. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you�I wish so much that there was something I could do�." When his voice cracked again, he looked away, down toward the fire in the grate. When he felt a cool touch on his shoulder, understanding, he reached up to lay a hand over the place, nodding a little in acknowledgement but unable to speak.

Hercules had to clear his own throat, before he said, "Iolaus says not to feel so bad, 'cause it could have been a lot worse!" Despite himself, Hercules chuckled a little, conveying some of the wry warmth Iolaus had put into his words and expression. "He also says, 'thank you'�and, he'd like to point out, it's probably time to eat."

Iphicles laughed even as the tears still glittered in his eyes, nodding again as he looked up to the empty space beside him and then to Hercules. "He's right. C'mon�let's see what the kitchen has prepared."

Over dinner, Iolaus sat and watched the two brothers, at first trying to participate as best he could, appreciating that Iphicles tried so hard to include someone he could neither see nor hear. But, after a while, as they fell to reminiscing, he leaned back against the chair, careful not to slip right through it. Though he didn't feel hunger for the sake of nourishment, as he watched them enjoy the warm red wine and the meal the kitchen had sent up, and listened to stories he'd couldn't contribute to, he began to hunger almost desperately for the sensations of life. Taste and touch, speech�simple things, things he'd always taken for granted. Keeping the aching need from his face, he concentrated on other things. Like moving the salt cellar, and feeling both embarrassment and a thrill of pleasure when it slid along the table, startling the servants.

Iph and Hercules had laughed and even congratulated him on the progress he was making in developing his capacity to impact on the world, but the servants were nervous. At first, they'd thought the King and his brother had taken leave of their senses, talking to an empty chair, which was bad enough. But now they did believe a ghost was in the lofty dining hall, and that was a whole lot worse. Though they'd known Iolaus, the idea of a ghost, even a friendly one, woke all their superstitious biases. It wasn't natural for a soul to walk the earth�and it was very frightening. The two brothers didn't notice the reactions of the silent servers, but Iolaus, having nothing else to do but observe, saw fearful glances and regretted them.

Monster�ghost�either way, he seemed destined to frightened and alienate the living mortals around him.

When the evening drew to a close, and the others went to bed, Iolaus climbed up to the ramparts to study the stars and to think. He was where he wanted to be, back in the living world. And, he was glad he was back, had no inclination to regret the decisions he'd taken.

But, he hadn't known it would be so hard to be surrounded by life and not be able to be a part of it.

The next morning, Iphicles watched Hercules amble off through the wide arch to the marketplace beyond the palace grounds, trying to picture Iolaus striding along beside his brother. Sighing, he felt deeply sad. Though Hercules had been better last night than the last time they'd seen one another, and he'd seemed happy enough to have Iolaus back, even if not the way he'd been, Iph had caught the haunted shadows that passed through the demigod's eyes whenever he was turned away from the chair in which Iolaus supposedly sat.

'Damn it," Iphicles thought, sorrowed by the cost Iolaus had had to pay, what with dying and now being left to wander the earth as a shade�and worried about his brother. Hercules was putting on a good show, but he was obviously far from the relaxed and confident man he'd been before all this started. Last night, Hercules had assured him that the two of them would work out the kinks of the new situation�but Iphicles suspected it would be far from easy.

Sighing, he turned back into his castle. 'They'll work it out,' he consoled himself. Shaking his head, he realized they hadn't much choice.

Once they'd crossed the isthmus into the mainland, they ran into fewer people who had a personal awareness of the depredations of Dahok, and relaxed a little when encountering strangers. Iolaus had gone back to whistling or chattering aimlessly as they ambled along, determined to enjoy what he did have. Herc could hear him, he consoled himself, and see him and when it was just the two of them, he could forget the rest of it.

Passing through a village sometime after the sun had reached its zenith, Hercules decided to stop in at the tavern for something to eat, and a mug of ale. Heading to the bar, the demigod hailed the taverner as he scanned the chalked board of the daily fare. "An ale, and a bowl of the stew with some bread and, ah�" he ordered then unconsciously turned to Iolaus, not thinking, to see what his partner wanted, but froze when Iolaus just looked at him with brows raised in amusement and shook his head. "Ah�I guess that'll be all, thanks," he finished awkwardly, fishing in the pouch on his belt for the coins to pay for the fare.

The bartender looked at him a little oddly, but nodded pleasantly enough. Passing Hercules a clay mug of ale, he said he'd bring the food to the table. The two travelers turned and noticed the small establishment was still quite busy, and chose a table in the back, taking a seat on the benches that ran along either side of the rough plank table. Iolaus leaned forward, grinning teasingly at his buddy across the table. "You're going to have to remember that I don't get as hungry as I used to," he chuckled.

Hercules nodded, chagrined, as he replied good-naturedly. "I know�I guess I just forget sometimes."

Waving off the explanation, Iolaus replied, "Yeah, so do I�don't worry about it."

Hercules had just begun to eat when more customers came in, and moved to the only seats that were still available. "Don't mind sharing, do you?" one husky man said in passing, as he and his comrades slid into the empty places.

"Whoa! Do you mind?" Iolaus laughed as the heavy-set man sat down on top of him. Hercules choked as Iolaus scrambled out of the way, moving through and out of the man to stand giggling at the side of the table. The newcomer looked a little disconcerted at the odd feeling he'd just experienced, but shrugged and went back to the conversation with his friends.

Hercules looked from Iolaus to the stranger, and almost offered a protest that his friend had been sitting there. But Iolaus could see it coming and laughing even harder, he advised, "Don't do it, Herc�they'll haul you off to the local lock-up in case you're dangerous as well as crazy!"

Hercules found himself with his mouth open. If he answered�Iolaus was right. They'd all think he was crazy. He cast a look of frustrated helplessness at his buddy, looked down at his stew and, after toying with it for a bit, decided he wasn't really hungry anymore. One long swallow of ale, and he stood, ready to go. He'd thought being in taverns before had been difficult, always imagining he was hearing Iolaus' laugh or good-humoured shout, knowing it was impossible, that Iolaus was gone. But, this was even more disconcerting. To have his friend there, to not be able to talk to him or acknowledge his presence was unsettling in the extreme. Shaking his head as he led the way back onto the street, he realized he was going to have to think of a way to deal with this�or give up eating in taverns.

As they headed out of the village, back into the countryside, the demigod was thinking about how difficult this must be for Iolaus. He'd caught his friend's wistful look at the pretty serving wench, and he hadn't missed the look of longing in Iolaus' eyes before he'd quickly hidden it last night at dinner. Iolaus loved the sensuous pleasures of life�eating, drinking, flirting with the hope of more, and telling tall tales to amuse the locals whenever they'd stopped for a brief respite from the road. This had to be driving him crazy, much as he was pretending to only find it all outrageously funny.

Finally, as the afternoon began to wane, Hercules decided he had to ask�had to know if Iolaus regretted his decision. There might still be time to change his mind. Clearing his throat, feeling a hollow emptiness at what he was about to suggest, he waited until his buddy had stopped his latest stream of chatter and offered quietly, "Iolaus�it might not be too late."

Caught by the tone, the warrior soul turned with a puzzled look at the sun and then back to his friend. "Too late for what?"

Hercules looked away. "I know Hades said the gates were barred to you," he explained, his voice strained, "but�this is still only the third day since you left the Other Side. If you asked, he might let you back into the Elysian Fields�."

"What?" Iolaus squeaked, startled, wondering where this had come from. His face creased as he concentrated, then asked, "Just because that guy sat on me, you think I want to go back there?"

Shrugging uncomfortably, casting a quick glance at his friend and then away again, Hercules replied, "No �not just because of that. But, gods, this has to be driving you nuts. You can't eat, drink�flirt. Tell stories, entertain the crowd�and you want me to ignore you whenever we're around people who don't know you're there�how can you stand it?"

About to wave off the concerns, Iolaus paused and thought about it a little more. He could see it had been hard for Hercules to even suggest that he give up on this. His buddy deserved a straight answer. "Okay," he allowed, his hands on his hips, "I'll admit this takes some getting used to. But, it's just stuff�not important, not really. I'll get used to it�we both will. I'm not going to petition Hades for entrance to a place I don't want to be."

Hercules felt a surge of relief, but he still felt more was needed. This was too unfair to Iolaus. Like being denied, time after time, day after day. He deserved better than that. Straightening, Hercules nodded as he replied, "All right, if you're sure about it. But�that was the last time�"

"The last time for what? That we talk about me going back to Elysium? Good� 'cause it's a dead subject," Iolaus giggled, "if you'll pardon the pun!"

Unable to resist a pained grin in return, almost giddy with relief to know Iolaus clearly wasn't having any second thoughts, Hercules shook his head. "No," he answered, "that's not what I meant. And that was a really bad pun, if you don't mind my saying so. No�I meant that was the last time I'm going to pretend you're not there. I'm going to keep telling people you've come back to travel with me, to keep helping them, until all of Greece knows my partner is around, whether they can see you or not."

Iolaus grinned as he shook his head. "They'll think you've lost it," he teased.

"Maybe so�but I don't care about what anyone else thinks. They'll get used to it," Hercules replied, stalwart and loyal to his boots.

"Right, I can see it now," Iolaus snickered lifting his hands as if to encompass a large sign, as he turned to resume their journey, "Hercules, the Legendary Basket Case."

"Won't be anything new," the demigod countered, keeping a deadpan expression and flat tone, "most people always did think we were crazy."

Iolaus broke up, but the look he cast his friend over his shoulder was as full of gratitude as it was of laughter. Nodding succinctly in reply, Hercules felt better for having decided to make Iolaus as 'visible' as he could.

The nightmare came again, as disturbing and violent as all the other nights, drowning him, tearing at his soul until he moaned for the pain of it, struggling against the horror that haunted him. Worse even than before, for the fact that he'd dreamt it alone the night before in his chamber in the castle, not being drawn out of it by Iolaus' calm and reassuring presence. In the midst of the anguish and sick terror, and the utter, desolate sense of having betrayed his best friend, he heard Iolaus' voice�distant, but calling him, insistent, growing louder, until he reached for it, hungering for the consolation and assurance that none of it was real�none of it.

Finally, Hercules thrashed a last time and muttered incoherently, waking feeling dazed and disoriented. Once again, his searching gaze found Iolaus, hovering over him, concern etched in his face. "Iolaus?" he whispered, with a renewed thrill of startled hope, and when his friend nodded, reaching out to grip his shoulder with that light, cool touch he was coming to know, he sighed, remembering. Rigid muscles eased, and his breathing slowed. The images of the nightmare were no less true or wrenching�but the reality of Iolaus' presence brought relief. "Thanks," he muttered, for having woken him from its terrible grip�for being there.

"You need to talk about it, Herc," his buddy said quietly, but firmly. "It's not going away, whatever it is." Though he could guess.

Shaking his head, Hercules took a deep breath. "No�I'm alright now."

"Liar," Iolaus countered, his gaze direct and uncompromising. "It's about me, isn't it? You keep calling my name as if you'll never find me again."

Hercules flicked a look up at him, bit his lip, then pushed himself up, to sit cross-legged next to his friend. Swallowing, pushing still trembling fingers through his hair, he finally nodded, his voice tight, "Yeah. Mixed up memories. Sumeria�Mycenae."

Iolaus closed his eyes for a moment, and shook his head. Just a few simple words that said it all. Grief. Guilt. Anguish. Horror. Unendurable loss. Maybe even a little anger toward a friend who'd done all that to him by first jumping into a flying dagger, and then by forcing Hercules to�. The soul sighed quietly. "You have to let it go, Herc. All that's over�done. We've gone past it."

Looking out into the night, his jaw tight with the difficulty of talking about this, Hercules replied softly, "It's not all over. You're not whole�you're still paying the price of it all."

"I'm not paying it alone," Iolaus countered. "Every time you remember that others can't see me�every night, after one of these nightmares�I see it in your eyes. You pay it over and over again. It has to stop."

"How?" Hercules replied, turning to look at his partner. "How do I forget that I�"

A flare of irritation flashed into Iolaus' eyes. Licking his upper lip, he looked away, then stood to pace, his arms gesturing to expression his frustration with all of it. "Damn it," he sighed, "Will you stop�will you just STOP feeling so damned responsible! Gods, Herc�how many times do I have to say it? I chose to travel with you�I still choose to do that. You didn't shove me in front of that blade�I jumped. You didn't push me into Dahok's body�I moved in because I wanted to, needed to."

Turning to face Hercules, his voice compelling, almost pleading, as he continued, demanding something he wasn't sure he had the right to ask. "You have to forgive me for that. I couldn't, wouldn't even if I could, not save Nebula�or not help you rid that world of that horror. Gods� every time I see it in your eyes, I'm reminded of what I did to you�how I almost destroyed you. I can walk this earth as a ghost without regretting it, but I can't stand seeing what I did to you almost every time I turn around. I can't make it right�I can only be here, now, like this. Yeah, I'm a ghost�so that means you have to live for both of us. And you have to forgive me for that too, I guess. Or we'll drive each other crazy."

Hercules looked away as he murmured, his voice strained, "You forced me to almost destroy everything that you are, forever. You didn't�trust me enough to do it on my own."

"Ah no, Herc," Iolaus almost moaned in dismay, "that's not it�it wasn't ever because I didn't trust you. Nothing would ever make me not trust you. Gods, Herc�please understand. Dahok violated everything that I am�he took my life when he overpowered Gilgamesh and directed the knife. He took my body and used it for things I can't stand to think about. And," his voice cracked, "he would have killed you. I knew him�I'd been part of him for one horrible, unforgettable moment. I knew he'd use your hesitation because it was my body�he'd use me to kill you. I had to fight him, don't you see? I couldn't just let him�" Iolaus broke off, the words choking him�the idea of what Dahok could have done to Hercules ripping him apart, the idea of what he'd, himself, almost done to his best friend hurting just as much.

Regaining some measure of control, Iolaus murmured, "I'm sorry�I had to destroy him myself. Thank the gods, Hades specifically�and that other guy, whoever it was, for saving us both from what I couldn't stop myself from doing. I hated him with everything that I am�I couldn't exist, in any form, any longer, not so long as he roamed free. I just couldn't bear it any more. I'm just so grateful you did what you had to do anyway, risking your own sanity to do it�without the impact of the hind's blood, he'd have beaten me for sure. Herc�you didn't hurt me�you saved me."

Hercules' brow was creased in thought as he gazed intently at Iolaus throughout the lengthy revelation of how his buddy perceived it all. For so many long months, the demigod had been consumed by his own perspectives, his own beliefs about his culpability�his own overwhelming guilt. When feelings of abandonment and betrayal had surfaced, he'd embraced them, telling himself he deserved it�that it was something lacking in him that had driven Iolaus to the decisions he'd made. When he'd felt anger at Iolaus for having quit on him, for having died and left him alone�for having forced him to that final act in Mycenae, he'd directed it at himself, as only right and just, because it had all been his fault in the first place.

He'd never, ever, not once, really looked at any of it from his friend's perspective. And the idea that Iolaus believed that he was the one who needed to be forgiven was so unexpected, so foreign, it was earth-shaking. From Iolaus' perspective, he was the one who had done no wrong�had only been the innocent, hurt by things over which he'd had no control. He was the hero.

Iolaus waited, his head turned away�waited for the forgiveness he could only hope for. Hercules shook his head, smiling wryly, then chuckling wearily as he finally said into the silence, "Gods, we're good at beating ourselves up."

Iolaus looked up at that, and seeing the faint smile playing about Hercules' lips, he dared one of his own� tentative, but warily hopeful. "Does that mean you forgive me?" he asked, a trace of the old impishness in his cajoling voice.

Laughing, Hercules looked up at his friend fondly. "No," he replied, "it doesn't." At the flash of confusion in Iolaus' eyes, he added, "Because there isn't anything to forgive. You're right. You did what you had to do�what was right to do. Sighing as he studied his friend, he began the harder process of letting some of his own guilt go. "And�I guess I did, too," he murmured quietly.

Iolaus did smile then, relieved beyond words, as he once again settled into place on his side of the fire. Hercules pushed fingers through his hair, feeling his own relief at finally having found a way to begin forgiving himself. The memories would always be there. But he could live with them now. "And, you were right about the rest of it," he added. "It's over�done. We go on from here. If I'm the only one anyone can see�well," he grinned teasingly, "too many never seemed to notice you before anyway. So�like before, I'll just have to point out that I don't do any of it alone."

Iolaus laughed softly as he replied, "Yeah? Well, be prepared�they really are going to think you're crazy!"

"'They' always did," Hercules replied, laughter in his eyes.

Nodding as he chuckled, Iolaus agreed, "And, for the most part� 'they've' always been right."

"Is that so?" Hercules countered, lying down, one arm under his head as he settled to go back to sleep. "Well, as the only person I know who is definitely crazier than I am�you should know."

At peace, for the first time in almost a year, Hercules drifted off to sleep with the sound of Iolaus' giggles in his ears. And, he smiled in quiet contentment.

The shadows were lengthening, the sun almost lost in the west, but they'd decided to press on. It couldn't be more than another hour at most and they'd be home�back at the cottage where Herc had grown up and Iolaus had learned what love really felt like, both to give and to receive, and where Jason now lived on his own. They'd amused themselves for the last few miles by imagining how Jason was going to react to finding out Iolaus was back�well, sort of. They could just picture the look on his face when Hercules told him and Iolaus did something outrageous like pluck a rose petal and waft it past Jason's face. Giggling, Iolaus was wiggling his fingers in front of his eyes, imagining how he'd make the petal dance. Because he could�the endless nights of practice had strengthened his capacity to move small, light objects virtually at will.

Laughing like kids, they didn't hear the signs�a snapping branch, the rustle of long grass against the wind. Not until it was too late to prepare when the shadows on the side of the trail sprang into life, as a gang of bandits attacked Hercules. Sure�he was a big guy, but there were a dozen of them so they'd counted the odds in their favour.

Well, how could they know they were wrong on two counts? All things being equal, he could take them all without breaking a sweat�nor was he as alone as he might appear.

Caught off-balance, it was a moment before Hercules erupted into action, and by then he was surrounded by men with knives and swords. Dropping into a crouch, he lashed out with one taut leg, whirling around, knocking the closest ones off their feet. Grabbing one of them by the ankles, he lunged back up and spun around, the man flying stretched straight out, screaming his head off. The suddenly confused, on the defensive, bandits backed up out of the way�or some did, before they got clobbered by the human club wielded by the demigod's strong arms.

Iolaus had backed off a step, a bit startled as thugs pushed past and through him, trying to get to Herc's back. Rage ripped through him at his helplessness�and fear. One guy had a knife pointed right at his buddy's back! Without realizing it, he materialized before their startled, shocked eyes, causing one to scream in terror as he backed away, whimpering.

His eyes blazing like some demon from hell, Iolaus waved his arms and yelled, "BOO!" causing the guy he was eye to eye with, to blink, and faint dead away�falling unregrettably on the knife in his own hand. But just then, another knife blazed across the small clearing toward Hercules' unprotected back, and Iolaus focused all the force within him upon the hurtling blade, causing it to deflect and falter, dropping to the earth.

Using the back of one of the bandits who was stumbling back up to his feet as an impromptu platform, Hercules lashed out with a powerful kick, then completing the leap-frog maneuver, he cut down with the side of his hand to the thug's neck, knocking him senseless. He threw a quick glance at Iolaus, pausing to grin when he realized his buddy had materialized and was scaring the spit out of the goons who had noticed him. They were doing good, even great, as usual and between them, most of the bad guys were down or running away. Iolaus had just caught Hercules' eye and grinned back, when his eyes widened in horror and he yelled, "Duck!"

Hercules turned, taking a half-step to the side, to meet whoever was coming�but he didn't move far enough�nor did he have time to do more than begin to twist violently away when he saw what was coming. Desperately, he reached to catch, but it was too close and he heard Iolaus scream, "Hercules!" just as the arrow struck, burying itself deep in his right side. He swayed a moment, the force of the missile throwing him off balance, but then with a growl, he just broke off the shaft and lashed out with a straight arm punch at a guy who had charged him when he didn't fall. Bandits scrambled, some still hoping to take him�and they found themselves facing a raging bull who ploughed into them, tossing them away like kindling. Iolaus shrieked at those who hesitated, lunging at them, terrorizing them, until, finally, the battered remains of the thieving gang broke, gathered up their stunned comrades and ran, disappearing into the forest�afraid for their souls as much as for their lives.

The big guy should have been killed by the arrow, but he'd kept fighting like a god.

And the little one, well he must'a come straight from Tartarus to drag them back down there with him!

The yelling, screaming chaos, so sudden and unexpected, was over. Breathing heavily, his hand coming up to cover the short thin bit of wood that protruded from his bloody vest, Hercules turned to face Iolaus�a quizzical, almost surprised expression on his face.

"Herc?" Iolaus breathed, horrified by the sight of the fast growing stain on Hercules' vest.

The demigod shook his head, trying to clear away the fog that was descending over him�but, then, he dropped with it to the dirt, and it drifted over him until everything was dark.

"Hercules!" Iolaus screamed, dropping by his friend's side. Instinctively, he reached out toward the wound, to check it�to rip the shaft from Herc's body. But, his trembling hand stopped. Even if he could�what would he do then? He couldn't apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. He couldn't rip off Herc's shirt to form a bandage or gather herbs to clot the wound.

Hercules could bleed to death!

"DAMN IT!" he raged, stricken by his helplessness. Gods, what could he do? Herc could be dying�what could he do? "Hercules�gods, Herc�hang on," he begged, his eyes raking the too pale face and then the shadows that were growing around them, the sun now set.

'Help,' he thought, forcing himself to think sensibly. 'I've got to get help!'

"Hold on, buddy," he called, hoping some part of Hercules could hear him. "You'll be okay."

Turning, he raced into the darkness, unconscious of the fact that he was still visible, his terror driving him on until he suddenly realized he wasn't bound by gravity, wasn't held by the earth. Stopping, forcing himself to think, to picture where he wanted to be, he flashed to Jason, materializing in the kitchen of Alcmene's cottage.

"Jason!" he cried out, not thinking, just knowing Herc needed them and needed them now!

Startled, the former King of Corinth turned from the fire, a freshly filled clay bowl of soup in his hand�and dropped it, shattering it as soup slopped and sizzled on the flames. Scrambling sideways, Jason's eyes were wide, his mouth agape at the vision that stood before him.

"Dahok!" he shouted in instant recognition, his voice filled with loathing for the monster that had killed one of his best friends. The demon was back, hadn't been destroyed by Hercules as everyone had said. Was here. Gods! "Stay away from me, you bastard!" Jason shouted again, lurching to his feet, hands out in front of him as he backed away.

Stunned into reason by his friend's horrified reaction, Iolaus' own eyes widened. Lifting a hand, wincing when Jason flinched, he tried to explain, "Gods, Jase, no! It's me�Iolaus!"

"Iolaus is dead," Jason snarled, reaching for one of the irons by the fire. "You killed him!"

Backing up a step, reaching for sanity, Iolaus begged, "Gods, please believe me! Herc's hurt�he needs you right now! I can't help him. Jason! Listen to me!"

"You're trying to trick me," the former King cried out in denial of the words, the abject plea in the face and voice. "Well, it won't work�I'll never fall for your lies."

Iolaus' eyes skittered around the room as he groped frantically for something, anything, that would convince his friend of who he was. Desperate, he asked in a rush, pleading to be believed, "Do you�do you remember what you said�when I thought Ares had killed Herc, and I couldn't save him because I couldn't swim�and I was thinking about leaving the Academy, and I wondered what Herc would say about that�do you remember, Jase? You said, 'Why don't you ask him?'"

Jason stiffened, doubt filling his eyes, unsure�not yet able to quite believe. "Iolaus?" he whispered. "Can it be possible?"

"Gods, YES! Haven't you figured out by now that anything's possible?" Iolaus cried back. "I'm a ghost, alright�but it's ME! And, Herc's been hit by an arrow�bad. About three miles from here. You need to take the wagon. Damn it! Would you hurry it up before you have two ghosts on your hands! We don't have time for this!"

"Iolaus," Jason breathed, wonder and a joy he couldn't suppress creeping into his eyes. "It really is you, isn't it?"

"Right," Iolaus replied rolling his eyes, waving urgently as he turned to the door. "C'mon, get it together�you can be shocked later. I'll explain on the way, whatever�just MOVE IT!"

Suddenly, the urgency sank in. Hercules had been wounded, badly�and needed his help. Galvanized into action, stopping only to grab a fistful of rags for bandages from the cupboard, Jason lunged for the door, leading the way into the night. He hastily hitched up the team, and turning them in the direction Iolaus indicated, cracked his whip, sending the horses charging into the darkness.

Iolaus had elected not to ride all the way with Jason. After giving hasty but clear directions, he flashed from sight, needing to get back to Herc, to make sure he was still breathing.

Flashing onto the trail, he knelt hurriedly by his best friend's side. "Hercules?" he called out. "Can you hear me?"

But, there was only silence. In the light of the moon's glow, Iolaus could see the stain had spread�but the good news was he could hear Hercules raggedly drawing in one shallow breath after another. In a frenzy of bitter helplessness and fear, he waited impatiently for Jason to arrive, murmuring over and over, "You'll be okay, just hang on�you'll be okay�"

Finally, less than half an hour later, an eternity of time, he heard the thunder of the hoofbeats, and stood to wave down the wagon before it rolled right over the unconscious demigod�and realized he was probably invisible again! Cursing mindlessly with new fear and the frustrated rage that flashed through him at his hated helplessness, he willed himself into visibility, an indistinct, wavering phosphorescent facsimile of himself in the darkness, but enough to cause Jason to haul back heavily on the reins.

Clutching the rags in his hands, the Argonaut leapt from the wagon and raced to Hercules' side, dropping to his knees and trying to lock down the fear that assailed him at the sight of all the blood and the wheezing sound of Hercules' breathing. The arrow head would have to come out, but not here. He couldn't apply pressure and drive the wagon. So, he padded the wound that had been widened by Hercules' efforts to drive off the bandits and wound a long band of linen around the demigod's chest to keep it in place.

Hercules was a big man, and heavy. But, driven by fear, Jason bent and lifted him into his arms, knees buckling a little, but otherwise seemingly unaware of the burden. All he knew was that he had to get Hercules back home as quickly as possible. There was no time to waste and desperation married to determination made him strong.

Having one best friend show up as a ghost that night was one dead friend too many. He sure as Tartarus didn't want to see a second.

Iolaus had watched Jason tend to Hercules as best he could, and stood aside as the former King carried the demigod to the wagon, gently laying him inside, jumping up into the box himself to ensure Hercules was positioned as comfortably as possible. From there, he climbed up over the back of the seat and took up the reins, looking around for Iolaus.

The warrior soul had dimmed somewhat, but there was enough of the glow remaining for Jason to spot him in the back next to the seriously wounded demigod. "He'll be alright, Iolaus," Jason vowed, then snapped the reins to send the horses hurtling through the night.

Iolaus sat with his hand over the wound, careful not to put pressure on the arrowhead, but feeling around it, trying to sense the damage, trying to focus his attention on slowing the terrible flow of blood. His concentration was absolute, leaving no room for fear or helpless rage. This was all he could do to help Herc now�just this. Focus, concentrate, apply mental pressure to the wound�focus�concentrate.

Jason pulled up finally outside the house and hastily carried the demigod inside, Iolaus moving ahead to depress the door latch with his psychic energy to allow Jason to easily shoulder his way in. On through the kitchen and down the hall to the bedroom in the back, where he laid Hercules on the bed, gently easing down his head and shoulders. Though Iolaus was no where to be seen, Jason knew he had to be there�that nothing would take him from Hercules' side.

"I'll go boil some water and get what I need to take out the 'head," Jason said as he turned to leave the room, while Iolaus kept up his vigil.

Jason was back in minutes, carrying a tray with a bowl of water, more rags, a knife, little jars of herbs and two large candles. Setting the tray on the small table by the bed, under the window, he turned to rip Hercules' vest and shirt from his belt, baring the demigod's chest. The garments were soaked, heavy with blood, and a ruby stain had seeped through the hasty bandage, though not as much as he'd feared to find. Cutting away the linen, he sponged blood away from the wound to allow him to see the damage better.

"This isn't going to be fun," he muttered, wishing his old palace healer was here, glad at least for his years as a warrior and what he'd learned on the fields of battle. He looked up into Hercules' drawn, pale features, wishing there was someone who could hold him down�as if anyone really could. "At least he's unconscious," he murmured, then bent to his task.

The flint arrowhead was buried deep, under the ribs on the demigod's right side and it took the former King longer than he wanted to trace its path and ease it from the wound. He had to hurt to help, cutting around the entry of the missile, slipping the blade down along the side of the shaft through muscle and under bone, then using the flat of the knife to slip around and under the 'head. Carefully, patiently, he eased the arrowhead out, one hand pulling gently on the broken shaft. He cursed under his breath at the blood that welled, blocking his vision, but finally, the deadly piece of flint rose to the surface and he could whisk it away.

Hercules had lurched at the pain, his muscles rigid, his breathing harsh and raspy, moaning a little, blood bubbling on his lips. But it was as if, even unconscious, he knew Jason was trying to help him and he was doing all he could to remain still and endure the agony of the extraction. When Jason finished, again washing the wound, powdering it with herbs and binding it tightly, the demigod seemed to relax a little, his breathing steadying to a slower, deeper rhythm.

"We'll need to get water into him, to replace the blood he's lost," Jason said to the empty air, picking up the tray, and heading back to the kitchen.

'Tell me something I don't know,' thought Iolaus, standing to the side, where he'd watched the crude surgery, in an agony of anxiety. He raked fingers through his hair, his jaw tight and his eyes haunted as he kept watch. Moving closer to the bed, he curled his fingers around Hercules' hand, knowing there was no way his buddy could feel his grip, but needing to touch, to have some contact.

It was a long night, and an even longer day. A fever built, searing through the demigod's body, making him restless, thrashing with pain and disorientation. The only thing that let Jason handle him at all was the weakness Hercules suffered from the massive blood loss. The former King had stripped his friend, tossing the blood-soaked garments into a corner, and hour after hour, had fought the fever. Bathing the demigod's hot skin, forcing water into him, and herbal tea both for the pain and the fever.

Whenever Hercules' breathing would catch, or his fever spike dangerously, Iolaus would waver into view, his churning fear for his friend making him visible. In those moments, Jason could see the lines on Iolaus' face, the grim expression, eyes dark with anxiety. And, he could hear him�just. As if someone was calling to him from far away.

While he worked, whenever Iolaus shimmered into view, Jason tried to get information about what had happened, not just with the bandits on the trail, but with Dahok.

"I heard Hercules' killed the demon," he said, glancing over at Iolaus, who nodded, not taking his eyes from his best friend's face.

"Hind's blood�dagger�.out of�body," he heard Iolaus reply.

Frowning at that, Jason looked down at Hercules, wondering how much it had cost him to do that to someone he knew the demigod had still equated with Iolaus.

"I thought you were in the Elysian Fields," Jason observed, again looking toward Iolaus, who shook his head.

Casting a quick, unreadable look at his old friend, Iolaus replied, "I decided to stay here."

Though Jason only heard, 'I�stay�' it was enough to give him the gist of what had happened. One brow rose in skeptical inquiry, as Jason observed wryly, "And Hades just decided to let you?"

His eyes once more on Hercules, Iolaus merely nodded. It was too hard to carry on a conversation this way. Fading in and out, his words only partially heard. He heard Jason sigh and flashed him a wry look, a twisted smile of commiseration. It was hard on both of them.

Pausing in his ongoing efforts to cool the demigod's body, Jason stretched his aching back, and gazed thoughtfully at Iolaus, who was beginning to once again fade out of sight. He'd seen and done a lot of strange things in his life, but he'd never thought to be holding a conversation, if you could call it that, with the specter of this old friend. He didn't know how he felt about it, when he thought about it. Everything had happened so fast. Glad, to at least see Iolaus again, to know he was near. Sorrowful, that it had to be this way�accepting that Iolaus really was dead, for all he'd apparently refused the eternal comforts of Elysium. Jason wondered briefly why his friend hadn't been granted the right to return to his body, but shrugged. It was too complicated a question, and the kind of piecemeal communication they managed, shattered phrases more than anything else, didn't lend itself to long explanations.

Most of all, he felt a terrible loss. To have Iolaus close but not quite there only underscored, made immediate, the reality, the immensity, of his death. Sighing as he turned back to care for Hercules, Jason supposed it had been inevitable, given the risks the blond warrior had always taken, heedlessly�selflessly. But, knowing that didn't make the reality any easier to bear.

And, he wondered, what it must be like to wander the earth as a ghost�cut off from everyone around you. It was a kind a loneliness he didn't even want to begin to imagine.

During those long hours, Iolaus stood and watched, or paced restlessly in small circles, unwilling to leave Hercules' side. He kept going over the fight in his mind. First, he hadn't been paying attention. He should have sensed those guys�gods, he'd gotten lazy and complacent. Before he'd died, he'd never have let anyone sneak up on him like that!

And, there were only about a dozen of the thugs. A year ago, between the two of them, it would have been child's play to take them out, drive them off or round them up for jail. And, Hercules, on his own? He'd've been able to take them, no sweat. So, what had happened? Swallowing, he knew he'd been as good as useless, yelling 'boo!' like some demented kid trying to scare somebody. Worse, he knew Hercules' concentration on the fight had been broken with him there. His buddy had turned to look for him, why? To see if he was alright? Hardly. What could happen to him? He was already dead. No�to see how he was handling being left on the side, unable to do his bit.

Worse than useless�a dangerous distraction. If Herc had been paying attention to the bad guys, he'd've caught that arrow. He wouldn't be lying here now, too long unconscious, fever too high�

And, afterward? Could he stop the bleeding, tend the wound? Help carry his friend? Hold him against the bumps and lurches of the racing wagon? Fight the fever? Give him a simple drink of water? Hold his hand to let him know he was safe?

No. He couldn't do any of that. Nada. Zip.

Slumping down on the bed he'd always used on the opposite wall of the small room, Iolaus gazed at Hercules, listened to his breathing�listened half-heartedly to the few one-sided attempts Jason made at conversation. Invisible. Unable to be heard. Useless.

So damned useless he could scream for the frustration of it.

And scared. That he'd let Herc down. Hadn't been able to help. Had been a liability. And, now Hercules was paying for that.

DAMN IT!

He'd been scared sick when it first happened, unable to help. Afraid Hercules would die, bleed to death, or that the gang would come back and finish him off while he laid there helpless, alone. Because his best buddy couldn't do anything to help him, protect him�had had to leave him to get the help needed.

Some partnership this was turning out to be.

What had he thought when he'd insisted he wouldn't go back to Elysium? That it would be the same as it had been? That he'd be able to do some good? That he could watch Herc's back, even if he couldn't fight anymore? Well, he'd screwed that up the first chance he'd been needed. Oh, he knew Hercules was happier having him around. But was that enough? Would it ever be enough?

Was it enough for him?

There had to be more he could do! More than conjuring tricks. His jaw tight, his eyes shifting around the room sightlessly, Iolaus wondered just how far he could push this single talent of being able to lift or move things. What kinds of things? How heavy? How far?

Could he learn to lift Hercules? Carry him the next time he was hurt?

Could he learn to toss a bad guy away? Or hold back a monster?

Could he learn to use the energy of his mind to make his whole being a wall that no one could get past?

Gods�if he couldn't�what good was he?

It was late in the evening when Hercules roused a little, biting off a moan, the fingers of one hand rising to delicately explore the source of so much discomfort. Blinking, still bleary, he murmured, "Iolaus?'

"Oh, he's around here somewhere," Jason replied, an indulgent note in his voice, glad to see the demigod was reviving. The fever had broken about two hours before, Hercules' uncommon strength and resilience to injury and illness serving him well once again.

Frowning, confused, Hercules' eyes searched out the source of the voice. "Jason?"

"Yes, that would be me," the ex-king grinned, patting Hercules on the shoulder. "You had us worried for a while�but looks like you're doing fine. The wound has already begun to heal."

Hercules winced a little as he closed his eyes, trying to remember. There had been a fight on the trail. Oh yeah�he'd missed the arrow. After that, it just seemed to be a fog. "How'd you find me?" he mumbled, licking dry lips.

Jason chuckled in chagrined memory as he reached out and poured a mug of water, moving to support Hercules' head as he held it to the demigod's lips. His patient drank gratefully then sagged back, tired. As he set the mug aside, Jason sat back and replied, "Iolaus came for me. Scared the dickens out of me when I saw him, I can tell you. Thought that demon Dahok was back. Anyway, he told me where to find you and waved down the team when I got there."

Hercules peered at Jason, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Iolaus had� "Iolaus�where?" he asked then, twisting his head to look around the room.

"I'm right here, Herc," his buddy replied, standing up from where he'd been sitting on the bed across the room. Iolaus gave him a slow smile, but his gaze wavered a little. "Jason's right�you'll be fine in no time."

Hercules smiled back, reassured�and drifted back to sleep.

Iolaus stood with his thumbs hooked into his pants, his head down, relieved to know Hercules was definitely on the mend. Jason sat back and sighed, looking around the empty room. "Sure wish I could see you," he murmured.

Lifting his head to gaze at his old friend, Iolaus replied quietly, "I wish you could, too."

Hercules was a great deal more alert the next day, able to laugh at how Iolaus had made an appearance much to Jason's complete surprise. "Well," he chuckled, "we debated how to let you know�but scaring ten years off your life hadn't been our original plan."

Jason laughed, a low, mellow sound, as he replied, "Oh, that's alright. Once he started yelling at me to 'move it', I got over the shock. So, since Iolaus seems unusually reticent, why don't you tell me what happened."

Hercules heard Iolaus snicker at their friend's remark, as Jason tried to make light of the fact they'd not been able to communicate, hiding the frustration and pathos of it all. Once again, Hercules explained all that had happened in the past week�gods, it seemed an age ago. Jason listened, nodding a little, thinking he'd figured a lot of it out for himself�feeling nothing but relief to know that one way or another, Iolaus had found his way back to the demigod who needed him. During the explanation, Jason had been able to place Iolaus in the room by the glances Hercules flicked at him. When the demigod finished a factual, if somewhat colourless, version of the tale, Jason cut a quick look back at the other bed. "Well, now I really wish I could hear you. He never did learn to tell a story properly, did he?"

Startled into a delighted grin, Iolaus laughed. Whether by luck or astute observation, Jason's eyes had leveled right at his own, and it was almost as if�well, almost. "You tell him, Jase," he said, "Herc always says I exaggerate."

When Hercules chuckled and relayed the message, Jason shook his head. "Embellish, maybe? But, exaggerate? Iolaus? Now, how could you say such a thing, Hercules?" he teased as he stood.

"Me?" protested the demigod, feeling as if time had turned back, the three of them kidding around as if everything was normal. "I can remember a time or two�"

"Now, now," Jason soothed, moving to the door, "don't be making up stories. You're not that good at it." He ducked as Hercules threw a pillow at him, and laughing, continued, "I'm going to get some good hearty broth for you�build back that legendary strength of yours. Call if you need anything."

Once the door had closed behind him, Hercules cocked a brow at his buddy, smiling as he said, "So�you popped in on Jason, did you? Wish I could have seen his face."

Iolaus smiled, but his heart wasn't in it. Jason's face hadn't been a pretty sight at that precise moment. "So, you feeling okay? Anything you need?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yes and no, thanks," Hercules replied, easing himself over onto his side so that he could see Iolaus better. Jason, though he hadn't known it, had been absolutely right. Iolaus was being unusually reticent. "Good thinking, to come and get him so quickly."

"Yeah," Iolaus replied, his voice a little tight. "Seemed the least I could do�what with you bleeding all over the trail and all."

His eyes flicking away and down a moment as he thought about what that scene must have been like, Hercules frowned a little, then looked back at his friend, thinking that he understood what was going on in his buddy's head. "You can't help the fact that you couldn't do it all yourself, Iolaus. You did what was needed. That's what counts."

Shrugging a little, looking away, Iolaus blew out a sigh. "I hate it, Herc, sometimes, being nothing but a useless ghost. You could have died out there, alone," he said quietly, knowing there was no point in pretending he wasn't bugged about it.

"I didn't die�I'm fine," Hercules replied, then grinned a little. "And, for a 'useless ghost', you kept yourself busy, scaring off the bad guys and then getting Jason. You did good, don't sweat it."

Snorting, Iolaus looked back at him, his gaze steady and determined as he replied, "Yeah? Well, trust me, I'm going to learn to do a whole lot better than that. You ain't seen nothin' yet."

Intrigued, wondering if he should be worried, Hercules quirked a brow as he asked, "What are you up to now, Iolaus?"

Narrowing his eyes as he chewed his lip, Iolaus shook his head. It was too soon to say. He had to find out what he could do, what his limits were. Besides, it was always fun to keep Herc in suspense. Giving his buddy a wicked grin, all he said was, "You'll see."

Hercules was able to get up the next day and felt almost fit the day after that. He insisted upon helping Jason with light chores around the house and barn. In response to Jason's questions, he finally brought his old friend up to date on what he'd been doing since Iolaus had been killed in Sumeria. "I wished it had been me," he murmured, then carried on, his voice halting as he described the events up to his departure from there in Nebula's ship. "I was a wreck, Jason," Hercules admitted honestly. "I just wanted to, I don't know, disappear, stop being me. Forget. But, I couldn't." Shaking his head in rueful memory, "How could I?"

He told of how he'd met the Druids, and of how they had tried to help him, letting him imagine he'd seen Iolaus in a cave in Eire. "It did help, some, I guess. At least, I let them believe it did," he murmured, staring off over the horizon, wondering where Iolaus was. He'd been making himself scarce lately, finding it too awkward for both himself and Jason to have Hercules forever trying to translate his reactions and words. Consequently, the demigod didn't realize Iolaus was up in the loft, listening, surprised at Hercules' assumption that the encounter in Eire hadn't been real. Shaking his head, he remembered how hard he'd prepared for that sorrowful reunion.

But, Hercules had carried on, recounting the story of Morrigan, and her daughter. Telling of his voyage to the Norselands and back�and of Dahok's brutal slaughter of all the other Druids. And, then the rest of it, the voyage back to Sumeria, his horror at finding out that Dahok had commandeered Iolaus' body, and the battles there and in Greece, until he'd finally been reunited again with his partner.

Jason had interjected from time to time with a few questions, heartfelt sighs and muttered oaths, but mostly he just listened, figuring Hercules had needed to talk about all this, with someone he could trust. And, he couldn't very well go into the gory details with Iolaus, who would only feel guilty over the pain his death had caused.

"The two of you have been to Tartarus and back," the ex-king sighed, deeply saddened for the both of them. Frowning, he looked around, as he asked, "Where is Iolaus anyway?"

Hercules shrugged, as he went back to raking out a stall. "I don't know, wandering the woods maybe. It's hard for him, you know�not being able to really take part in a conversation."

Nodding, Jason sighed, as he replied, "I can only begin to imagine�I find myself looking around, wondering if he's there, if he's watching me. Damn�I hate not being able to see him, talk with him again. And, I keep thinking I should apologize for how I greeted him that first night. The look on his face when he realized I thought he was Dahok�I think it was that expression of horrified shock that finally got through to me."

Hercules frowned, his head down as he raked. Iolaus hadn't mentioned anything about that. Biting his lip, he remembered his buddy's words, that anyone seeing his face would only see a monster. Gods�that had to have hurt, hearing that from Jason, of all people. "That's why he wouldn't go back into his body," Hercules replied quietly. "Because anyone who saw him would have had the same reaction. One more thing Dahok did to the two of us�he made Iolaus detest his own body so much he couldn't stand the idea of having anything more to do with it." Sighing, he looked up at Jason, the memory of it still haunting his eyes, " He told me to burn it."

Jason closed his eyes as he looked away, trying to blot out that image. Not wanting to imagine what either of them must have felt as they watched the pyre burn.

Iolaus decided he'd had enough�and that they had too. Raking over the pain didn't help it heal. If he could have his way, he'd have burned the memories along with the body. Blinking himself to a position a little distance from the barn, he began to whistle, to let Hercules know he was on the way back�from the woods, apparently.

Well, Herc hadn't been far wrong�it was where he'd been spending his nights, testing out just how far he could push these flimsy kinetic powers of his.

Within a week, Hercules was back to being as good as new. The three friends tromped through the woods and across wide fields and meadows, stopping to fish one day, but mostly just revisiting old haunts, laughing at the memories the places evoked. Iolaus traveled with them those days, tried to enjoy sitting by the stream without wishing he was holding a fishing pole in his hand, but mostly just enjoying being with his two best friends, even if one of them couldn't see him. When he got bored, he'd amuse himself by talking a stroll on the top of the stream, pointing out to Hercules where the fish were pooled below his feet. The first time he did it, Hercules nearly choked at the sight of Iolaus walking on the water, causing his buddy to burst into giggles and Jason to demand what was wrong. When Hercules described Iolaus' antics to the ex-king, Jason chuckled, pulled in his line and recast it over to where Iolaus had indicated there were fish, calling out, "Thanks, Iolaus�you make a great fish-finder!"

On market day, they ambled into Thebes, to get some supplies and to catch up on the local news. Hercules and Jason took the opportunity to let folks know that Iolaus was back�in a manner of speaking. Old friends reacted with muted joy, glad to know one of their own had returned, particularly glad for Hercules' sake, but sorrowed that they couldn't see the legendary hunter�a lot of the women looked very sad indeed. Newcomers just looked at them oddly, as if they'd lost their minds�at which point Iolaus would waft an apple or melon in front of their faces, and break up when they bolted in shock.

At one point, Iolaus drifted off, a look of wicked anticipation in his eyes that Hercules caught and wondered at, but the demigod just shrugged, being engaged in a conversation with the blacksmith. But, when Iolaus didn't reappear within a few minutes, Hercules sauntered off in the direction his friend had taken, wondering what he'd gotten up to.

When he saw his buddy darting in and out of a wall, he winced at the sight. Gods, he just couldn't get used to seeing Iolaus walk through walls or trees as if they weren't there. And, then he noticed just which walls Iolaus was passing through with such evident glee.

"IOLAUS!" he shouted, appalled. "Stop that!"

Startled, the ghost looked around and grinned, partly at the look of shocked sensibility on his friend's face and partly at the reaction of the passersby at the demigod's shout. Some jumped and looked around�but the lovely ladies exiting the bathhouse just looked up and giggled when they realized what had been happening, winking at the demigod before they sauntered away.

"Hey, Herc, relax!" Iolaus soothed, as he bounded over to join his friend. "See�they didn't mind the idea that I've been, well, sightseeing," he pointed out, gesturing to the women. "Truth is, most of the gals in there would have been really glad to see me if they could! And, besides�a guy has to have some fun, even if he is a ghost!"

"How many times have you 'popped in' there for a look?" Hercules demanded, scandalized.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Iolaus held up his fingers and flicked them as if counting, then he looked up teasingly, "You do mean just today, right?"

"You've done this before!" Hercules rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Iolaus�you�it's not right!"

"Okay, okay, it's not like I'm hurting anybody!" Iolaus protested with a slight whine, looking hurt and put-upon. "I was just, you know, trying to find some of the advantages to being invisible. It's not all that much fun, you know."

Sighing, the demigod pushed his fingers through his hair. He never could resist that soulful look. "I know," he replied, relenting a little. "Just�just don't do this again, all right?"

"Today, you mean?" Iolaus chirped, and when Hercules looked like he could cheerfully throttle him, the impish soul giggled and waved it away. "Ah, it's okay, all right, I'll be good. So�all the shopping done? Are we ready to head back home now?"

Shaking his head, wishing he could loop an arm around his buddy's shoulders and give him a little shake, Hercules nodded and they turned back to find Jason.

It was during these rambles that they began to hear stories of how livestock had begun to disappear, during what seemed to be sudden, very localized, violent storms. But, it wasn't until a couple of days after the first story that they heard from a farmer who'd been close enough to see the strange phenomena. A kind of low level funnel cloud, with a wide maw that sucked everything nearby inside�and then vanished.

Hercules froze and turned his head to look at Iolaus, who was staring back at him, mouth a little agape, eyes wide with appalled understanding. They'd hoped that phenomena had been ended forever when the Sovereign had finally been trapped alone in the space between their two realities.

But, it had started again. And it would have to be stopped.

They took to camping in the area where the incidents seemed to have most frequently occurred, waiting for the gateway to open again. Something must be happening on the other side to have opened it again�and they'd have to go through to find out and fix it if they could.

Though he clearly wasn't happy about it, Jason finally promised Hercules he wouldn't follow when the demigod and Iolaus leapt into it. Even then, he'd only reluctantly agreed when Hercules pointed out, at Iolaus' suggestion, that their only hope of getting back might be to have Jason on this side, petitioning the gods on their behalf to open it one last time.

Chapter Three

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