Growling with frustration, he stomped angrily along the stone path until he returned to the place where he'd started, going in circles. Seething with rage, he pushed his fingers through his hair to calm himself and then thoughtfully rubbed the back of his hand along his bearded cheek. Standing tall in his black leather, his hands on his hips, he glared at the now smoldering, incinerated piles of ash, all that was left after the lightning induced fires. Biting his lip, his jaw tight with exasperation, eyes narrowed with the desire to wring someone's, anyone's, neck, he finally sighed. If had been done once, it could be done again.

Determined, driven by the mingled desires for freedom and revenge, he set to work, recreating as best he could the elaborate arrangement that had existed before the strange lightning had hit. Finally, it was finished…now, he just had to wait, be ready to move when the opportunity presented itself. Laughing cruelly low in his throat, he strode back to lean over the pool of water, glaring into it until the images of his enemies appeared.

"I'm not finished with you, yet," he growled, when their images appeared. He slammed the water in fury when he saw that they were laughing, dissipating the vision. Wheeling around, his eyes raking the muddied sky, he snarled, "We'll see who has the last laugh."

But, there was no telling how long he'd have to wait…and patience had never been his strong suit. When he wanted something, he wanted it NOW, and until now, he'd been used to getting his way. Heaving out a sigh of impatience, he strode back and plopped himself down on the rocky ledge.

Crossing his arms, tapping one boot unconsciously in a slow tattoo of restlessness, he stared at the sky. And, while he waited, he plotted out how he could win…win it all. Long moments later, his eyes began to glow with satisfied anticipation. Shouting out into the void, shaking a fist into the air, he shouted, "I don't just get mad, I get EVEN!"

The silence mocked him, not even granting him the satisfaction of an echo. Undaunted, leaning back against the rock, arms crossed, legs stretched out in front of him, the Sovereign waited.

* * *

Thunder rumbled ominously overhead, the sky heavily overcast, the day hot and sticky…oppressive.

"Not exactly perfect weather for the Festival," Iolaus observed, eying the sky despondently.

Following his buddy's gaze, Hercules shrugged, "Maybe it will blow over," he offered, but there was no conviction in his voice.

"Yeah, maybe…when fish learn to fly," Iolaus grumbled, ambling along beside his best friend.

Hercules gazed sympathetically at his partner. Nobody loved a festival more than Iolaus, and there was no denying that heavy rain lashed by the wind damped everyone's spirits. Smiling to himself a little at the pun, he offered the only measure of consolation he could. "Well, there'll still be good food, and good wine…and lots of pretty girls for you to flirt with. The inn will be dry and the music and dancing can go on inside the taverns. It won't be the same…but, I'm sure you'll still find a way to enjoy yourself."

Casting a sidelong look up at his buddy, Iolaus nodded, his irritation falling away as he thought about the appealing tavern wench he'd met the last time they'd traveled through Lessos, a thriving village near the foot of the Olympian mountains. "I wonder if Stacia is still working at the Wise Owl?" he mused, smiling a little as he remembered her taunting eyes and sultry lips.

"I'm sure she will be," Hercules replied, then grinned evilly, "unless she's gotten married in the meantime."

His best friend scowled up at him, then shook his head. "You really know how to wreck a mood, Herc," he said with a long-suffering sigh.

"Hmm," the demigod grinned, unrepentant.

There was a quick, bright slash across the northern sky, and a moment later, the rumble of thunder filled the air.

* * *

It was the Festival of Zeus, the annual celebration of the God's birth and triumph over his father, the Titan Kronos. By the time the heroes slogged through the mud into the village, having sheltered from the fast moving storm under a thick grove of trees, the pious villagers had already begun their enactment of the sacred events.

Rhea, Zeus' Titan mother, (played by the tallest woman in the village), desperate to save the life of at least one of her children, substituted a swaddled rock for the newborn's body before handing the bundle to Kronos. Laughing in cruel delight, the Titan, (better known as the village blacksmith), swallowed the stone (or at least the small roll of bread that was being used in the play), blissfully unaware that he had failed to overcome the prophesy that he would be defeated by one of his own children. So far as he was concerned, his latest child had just followed the earlier born into his ample gullet, which he rubbed in contented satisfaction, (drawing appreciative snickers from the audience). Zeus appeared (ably played by the village magistrate), grown now and powerful. A brief battle ensued with Zeus emerging triumphant (no surprise there). Forcing his father to vomit up his siblings, Hades, Poseidon, Hera, Hestia and Demeter, (various villagers appeared from behind a curtain strung up next to the gagging blacksmith), Zeus accepted their homage when they bowed in gratitude before him, acknowledging his supremacy over them. Zeus then forced his father to release his aunts and uncles, who had been bound in chains, and then the imprisoned Cyclopes (played by large men wearing hoods with a single eye painted upon them). In gratitude, the Cyclopes presented Zeus with his most powerful weapon, the thunderbolt (a jagged piece of wood painted yellow). With impressive largesse, they gifted his brothers as well, Poseidon with his trident (a rake), the power to govern the seas, and Hades with his cap of invisibility (a rolled sheet which fell down around him to signal he wasn't visible anymore), to move unseen on the Other Side. Finished with his defeated father, Zeus banished him to the murky depths of Tarturus.

"Lord of Lords, most blessed of the blessed ones, and most powerful of the powers, bountiful Zeus," intoned the High Priest, quoting the words he'd heard in Athens the year before from the play by Aeschylus, "we celebrate your birth and bow before you, humble and grateful for your rule."

Villagers cheered the end of the dramatic representation, clapping their hands enthusiastically. Iolaus joined in the applause, and couldn't resist casting a twinkling glance up at the scowling face of his friend. Hercules was standing, a little too obvious in his contempt, with his arms tightly crossed over his chest, distinctly uninclined to applaud this celebration of his father's finest moment.

Shoving him a little with his shoulder, repressing a grin, Iolaus mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, "Hey, loosen up…it's a festival. You could at least show your appreciation for the talent and hard work of these local citizens."

Hercules cast a dark look down at his buddy, but loosened his arms and clapped, half-heartedly to be sure, sighing dramatically.

Snickering, Iolaus clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit," the blond warrior approved. "Now, let's find some food, some music and some good wine…" he continued, pulling on Hercules' bicep to drag him toward the Wise Owl tavern. "If we're lucky, there'll be a good bard for the evening's entertainment!"

Relenting, Hercules chuckled a little at his irrepressible friend. It could rain cats and dogs, leaving mud up to their ankles, they could stand about in the chill air watching a ludicrous paeon to the gods when neither of them cared a hoot about 'Zeus' triumph', but give him the hope of good food and wine, a little music and story-telling, and maybe the company of the lovely Stacia, and he was as bright and cheerful as ever.

The evening was unnaturally dark, made gloomy by the clouds which still hung low, piled up against Mount Olympus, obscuring it's snowy peaks. But, whistling a little under his breath, Iolaus wasn't noticing the weather as he led the way into the cozy warmth of the tavern. It was time to party!

* * *

There was a distant rumble of thunder, far off, barely discernible, but enough to bring the Sovereign to his feet. Breathing heavily as he tried to control his rising excitement, he watched the horizon, poised, ready… it couldn't be long now….

* * *

They learned, much to Iolaus' chagrin, and Herc's silent amusement, that Stacia had run off with the blacksmith's son a couple of months before. Somewhat disappointed, Iolaus mumbled, "Hope she'll be happy," as he took two frothing mugs of ale from the barman, handed one to Hercules and turned to lead the way through the fast-filling tavern to a table on the side away from the windows. There was a lute player in one corner, his cheerful music competing with the rising din of conversation and laughter, and Iolaus brightened up immensely at the sight of the new tavern wench, making her way over to them to take their order for food.

By the time they'd placed their orders for roasted young cow, in a sauce of gravy and wild mushrooms with ratatouille and fresh baked bread, Iolaus had learned her name was Marissa, that she lived just outside of town with her parents on their small plot of land, and that she liked to dance. Watching her weave her way through the tables to the kitchen, he leaned back, satisfied, sipping his ale. Catching Hercules' look of amusement, he lifted an eyebrow in silent query.

Shaking his head, looking around the tavern made bright by innumerable lanterns hanging from sconces on the walls and ceiling, Hercules smiled in amused tolerance, "There's always more fish in the sea, eh, Iolaus?"

"Uh huh…maybe now you begin to appreciate why fishing is my favourite past time," Iolaus chuckled, his eyes dancing.

Hercules just snorted as he lifted his own mug, glancing back at his friend as he replied, "One of these days, you're going to end up over your head…."

"No worries," Iolaus laughed, leaning forward, "I learned to swim a long time ago."

In good spirits, the friends enjoyed the ambiance of the inn and the good food, relaxed, looking forward to the next few days of festivities. The place had filled up, in anticipation of the evening's entertainment, a bard as Iolaus had hoped, but music was still playing by the time they'd finished eating. Looking around the gathered crowd, Iolaus speculated on which one was likely to be the bard, but none looked the part.

Just then, the door of the tavern burst open, and caught by the sudden gust of wind from the storm that had begun again outside, it crashed against the wall drawing all eyes in curiousity. A small woman, her hair covered against the rain by a shawl whipped through the door, obviously glad to get inside. She was followed a moment later by a tall, dark haired beauty dressed in leather, who was wiping the moisture from her shoulders and wringing it out her long tresses as she hastened through the entrance.

Hercules and Iolaus threw one another a quick look and shared smile of unanticipated good fortune, and then Iolaus was standing, calling across the room, "Hey, Xena, Gabrielle! Over here!"

Xena looked up and around, smiling slowly when she recognized the two heroes. Waving, she turned back to Gabrielle, who was gabbling to the tavern keeper, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't think we'd be so late, but we got caught in the storm and had to shelter in a rickety old shed on the edge of the forest, but it was miles away and the storm just wouldn't quit, and I knew we were going to be late, but we hurried as fast as we could…I'm sorry, we should have gotten here sooner."

Patting her friend on the shoulder, while casting the tavern-keeper a look that told him he'd better be generous in his acceptance of the babbled apology, she said dryly, "Well, we're here now…and it looks like everyone's just about ready for a good story. Relax, Gabrielle, and look who's over there against the wall."

Gabrielle, eyes wide under her long bangs, turned and scanned the room, her anxious face lighting into a bright smile of recognition. Forgetting the tavern-keeper, who was staring at her receding back, his mouth slightly agape at the quick flurry of changing moods and actions, she practically skipped across the tavern to give Hercules and Iolaus warm hugs. "What are you two doing here?" she asked in delight.

"Waiting to hear a great bard tell wondrous tales," Iolaus grinned, pulling out two chairs and waving to Marissa for more libations, as he hastened to make them welcome.

"Good to see you, Iolaus, Hercules," Xena said with a slight smile as she took her seat.

But, Gabrielle having been recalled to her duty by Iolaus' remark, had declined to sit and looked around again for the tavern-keeper, her question in her eyes. Understanding, he smiled as he nodded and pointed toward the corner where the lute player was stationed, a second stool ready and waiting for the bard.

"I'd better go do what I was invited here to do," she said, turning back to them. "But, keep that chair for me. I'll be back!"

"Long journey?" Hercules asked Xena, while they waited for Gabrielle to begin.

"No longer than usual," Xena replied with a shrug, turning to listen as her best friend began her recounting one of her favourite adventures of the heroes of Greece.

Settling back, relaxed, they listened with varying degrees of amusement, chagrin and admiration to the impassioned tale of how Hercules and Xena had freed Prometheus and brought fire back to the land of mortals.

* * *

"I don't see why we have to go through this charade every damned year," grumbled Ares. "Once a century, a millenium even, would be more than enough."

"Cheer up," Aphrodite giggled back over her shoulder as she tripped daintily down the steps hewn from the stone of Mount Olympus, heading toward the glowing chamber below. "It's Daddy's big moment every year…and you know it always puts him in a good mood."

"Fair point," muttered the God of War, reflecting that a happy Zeus was a Zeus who left him alone.

The siblings were part of the gathered throng of gods and goddesses who came from above, on and under the earth for the celebration. Mortals weren't the only celebrants of the Festival of Zeus. Every year, all of the deities gathered in this underground cavern to pay homage to the King of the Gods, in the place where he had triumphed over Kronos, seizing the power of Olympus. And, just like the festivities of the mortals below, their party could go on for days.

* * *

Once Gabrielle had finished her duties for the evening, she gladly rejoined her friends, dropping dramatically into her chair, blowing her bangs up with a weary sigh.

"That was great," Iolaus commended her with a broad smile, "but then, what else could we expect from the most talented, not to mention the most beautiful, bard in Greece?"

"Oh, thanks, Iolaus," the young bard replied with a blinding smile, gratefully reaching for the mug of ale they had ready and waiting for her…telling tales left a very dry throat! Taking a quick sip, she continued, "But, I wished we'd have gotten here earlier, I hate rushing, almost being late…."

"Would you relax?" Xena cut in with a mellow tone and a soft smile of indulgence. "We got here on time, and as Iolaus said, you were wonderful."

Hercules nodded with a teasing smile of his own, "I agree…no one tells a story like you do. It was almost like being there."

"You were there," Iolaus pointed out, laughing. "And so were you," he nodded his head at Xena, "and so was I, and so, thankfully, were you," he finished with a warm look at Gabrielle, who blushed at the light of gratitude in his eyes, wistfully wishing it was something more.

Laughing, the friends settled back to catch up with each others' news. Once that was done, they chatted lightly about the celebrations. Curious, Gabrielle turned to Hercules, to ask, "Do the gods celebrate these festivals, too? I mean, they probably just pay attention usually to the ones for themselves, but, since this is so special because…."

Hercules nodded, interjecting with a slightly sarcastic tone, "Because it's 'Zeus' triumph over Kronos' that's being celebrated? Well, I've never been there, but I've heard that, yeah, they're all obliged to gather in the vault…."

"The vault?" Xena interjected. "What vault?"

The demigod shrugged, as he answered, "It's what they call the ancient cavern where Zeus confronted Kronos and made him vomit up…."

"Yeewww," Iolaus cut in, screwing up his face, "do you mind?"

Hercules glanced at his friend, shaking his head, sighing, "I know, I know, pretty gross. Just be glad they're not your family."

"So, tell us more about the vault," Gabrielle encouraged, already thinking ahead to the next tale she'd be writing to describe the celebrations of the gods.

"It's just a big cavern in the depths of Olympus…the entrance is about half-way up the mountain. But, it's kept locked all year, reserved for this most illustrious of celebrations," Hercules replied with very evident sarcasm this time, not impressed with the gods, let alone their celebrations. "They call the place 'The Vaults of Heaven'."

"Why is it locked?" Xena wondered. "Do they keep their treasure in there or something?"

Hercules snorted at that. "No…it would be easy enough for any of them to open it up with the keys if they wanted…the keys are left hanging somewhere very close to the rolled stone door. No…no treasure. Just a big, empty, dreary cavern. Locking it is more symbolic than anything…like locking away the memory of Kronos, I guess."

"Why do they need keys at all to lock it or unlock it?" Iolaus asked, his curiousity now aroused. He hadn't heard this story before. Usually, he didn't have much luck getting Herc to say much about what went on up on Olympus. "Or is it just to keep curious mortals out? But, that wouldn't make any sense…not if the keys are just hanging there."

Frowning, Hercules moved his mug in small circles on the table. "I don't think I've ever heard the whole story…but, apparently the mountain itself holds some power, and though the gods can enter from the outside, once inside, and it's locked, they can't get out. It's the old prison where the Cyclopes were held, so it had to be inescapable. As for mortals," he shrugged, "legend has it that the keys can't be seen by mortal eyes, or touched by mortal hands…they were enchanted so that 'only the gods and the spirits of heroes gone before' can see or touch them."

"Weird," Iolaus murmured, "your family is definitely weird."

"Oh, I don't know," Gabrielle, ever the poet, sighed. "It could be romantic…the spirits of heroes gone before…."

"Romantic?" Xena replied, not quite caustically, but close. "Why would any hero, spirit or otherwise, ever want to open an old prison and free the gods once they were safely locked away and out of our lives? Sounds stupid, if you ask me."

"Oh, Xena," Gabrielle pouted, but the light in her eyes was teasing, "use your imagination. Even you must have some romance in your soul!"

Startled, Xena gulped, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable and horribly afraid she might be blushing, while Hercules took a breath and tried to look nonchalant as he lifted his eyes to gaze around the tavern, anywhere but at Xena. Iolaus snorted, then snickered, then broke into gales of laughter at their discomfiture. Never fully at peace with what had happened between his buddy and Xena, let alone what had happened between him and Xena, the laughter was partly nerves and partly hysterical revenge at seeing them so nonplussed.

"What?" Gabrielle's eyes narrowed as she looked at each of them in turn, sensing a story here. Of course, she knew about what had happened long ago between Xena and Iolaus…that was old news, bad as it was, but they both seemed to have put it behind them. No, this was something else. "Tell me, what…." But, her gaze following Iolaus' to Hercules and then to Xena, her eyes widened in sudden understanding. "Oh, now, that's a story I have to hear. Give!"

* * *

every year, Zeus flung a few proud thunderbolts into the air, creating his own sound and light show, reveling in his power and this moment. It was here that he'd bested his father and saved his siblings. Here that he became the King of the Gods. Proud, but in great good humour, he settled his rich robes on his shoulders then regally made his own way down the steps for a suitably impressive entrance into the gathered throng below.

* * *

Thunder crashed overhead and lightning shattered the murky yellow sky, hitting the first pole then spreading in a dazzling, jagged path to connect the others.

"All right!" shouted the Sovereign, gathering himself for the leap.

Swirling blue clouds formed then coalesced into an unsteady tunnel between the poles. Without a moment's hesitation, the evil lord of the alternate universe plunged into the maelstrom.

* * *

Rain and wind lashed the mountain, tearing at the trees, loosening the earth, until slowly, inexorably, a great sheet of earth began to slide, gathering speed, a tearing force of destruction as it bore down upon the village below.

* * *

There was a growing rumble that they mistook for thunder at first, but it grew louder, unabated, and a few heads rose, listening, frowning as the roar grew, gradually escalating until it seemed it might drown out the sound of conversation and the musical efforts of the lyre player.

The heroes exchanged quick glances, then Iolaus yelled, "Landslide!"

Everyone rushed to their feet, heading out of the tavern to determine whether they should run for their lives or run to help those already buried. Rain lashed them viciously, the wind cut cold to the bone. Lightning shattered the darkness, and someone screamed, pointing….

It looked as though the whole mountain was sliding toward the far end of the village, and then it was there, and over…and houses, cottages, barns, sheds…were gone.

"C'mon!" yelled Hercules, running toward the devastation. "We have to dig them out!"

Knowing there was no time to lose, everyone who could ran to rescue any who might still live beneath that sea of mud and debris.

In the chaos, no one noticed the pale whirling tunnel of light, no one felt the wind, or heard it, above the gale blowing around them. Staggering a little, pulling himself forward to escape the vortex before it turned back in on itself, the Sovereign made good his escape from the rocky, dismal isolation of the zone between realities. Slipping in the mud, he went down on his knees, cursing. Pushing himself to his feet, he looked around trying to get his bearings, aided by flashes of lightning.

It was a village…there'd been a landslide. And, there, his tall, muscular form illuminated by the sharp, short bursts of light, was his enemy, running to help the poor suckers who'd been buried. Smiling, he wiped muddy hands on his vest. "Perfect," he murmured. "Just perfect."

* * *

It must have been more than an hour later, but time had compressed with the blind sense of urgency that everyone felt as they dug with hands, pieces of slatted wood or whatever tools they'd been able to lay their hands on, knee deep in mud, soaked by cold rain. Their haste had been rewarded early on, having successfully found several families alive, huddled in the wreckage of the fruit cellars beneath their demolished homes. Soon after, three other children had been dug out, unconscious but still breathing…and then an old woman, coated with muck, her arm broken, deeply shocked that she'd lived at her age when others so much younger might still be at risk of dying, or of being found already dead. Exhilaration faded into numb determination, but time and again, they were rewarded as they pulled live survivors from the rubble.

In the chaos and darkness, the friends had gotten separated without even noticing. Hercules was vaguely aware of Xena off on his left, as he bent to raise a massive piece of wreckage, hauling it physically up and out of the sucking mud, to allow others to search below. They'd just crawled back out, shaking their heads that there was no one trapped under there, when an urchin, a boy of about eight maybe, with a mud-streaked face, dashed over to tug at Hercules' shirt.

"Hey, are you Hercules?" he cried out over the wind.

Looking back over his shoulder, Hercules nodded at the boy as he let the side of what had been a barn settle gently back into the mud. Turning, he looked down at the boy, as he confirmed, "Yes, I'm Hercules. Why? Does someone need my help?"

"A big stranger told me to give you a message a while ago, but it took me some time to find you out here," the boy replied, looking around at the chaos of villagers moving every which way in the darkness and driving rain, shivering a little.

"What message?" the demigod asked, anxious to get back to looking for survivors, though he knew they'd covered most of the disaster site by that point, and so far at least, thankfully, everyone had been found alive, if somewhat battered.

"He said you should go to the Vaults of Heaven if you want to find your friend," the boy repeated, scowling a little at the strange message. "What're the vaults of heaven?" he asked.

Hercules' head jerked up as his eyes raked the darkness, looking for Iolaus. Spotting Xena, he called out, his voice harsh with concern, "Xena! Do you see Iolaus?"

The Warrior Princess turned at his call, then shifted, looking, shaking her head as she made her way over to him. "Why? What's wrong?" she called back.

Worried, Hercules turned back to the child, dropping to one knee, his large hand gripping the waif's shoulder. "Who told you to give me this message? What did he look like?" he asked urgently, quietly, striving for calm despite the fear that was building in his belly.

The kid shrugged and sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "Dunno. He was a really big guy, dressed in black leather with a beard. Looked kinda scary…and mean."

Xena had arrived in time to hear the description, her gaze meeting Hercules' as his eyes lifted to hers. "Ares?" she muttered, her eyes narrowed, one brow up.

"Sure sounds like it," Hercules replied grimly, coming to his feet, feeling the beginning of rage. He patted the kid absently on the shoulder, murmuring 'thanks' as he turned away to face the Warrior Princess, his face settling into lines of anxious anger.

"What's going on?" Xena pressed, looking around. "Why were you looking for Iolaus?"

"Because the kid had been sent to tell me that if I wanted to find my friend, I'd have to go to the Vaults of Heaven," Hercules replied, his voice tight.

"What?" Xena's brilliant blue eyes flashed back to his. Then, she was looking around again, more desperately this time. "Gabrielle…?" she murmured under her breath.

Filled with new alarm, Hercules too scanned the area. But, neither blond friend was anywhere to be seen.

"Why would Ares take them to the Vaults of Heaven?" Xena demanded, turning back to face Hercules, her own anxiety having quickly flared to anger.

"I don't know," Hercules replied grimly, quickly evaluating the devastation, his sense of responsibility holding him here, while his heart urged him to go, and quickly. But, he could see that they were just about finished with the rescue efforts, and the mood was powerfully hopeful since there'd been no deaths. Nodding a little to himself, he decided he could go. Turning back to Xena, seeing the worry in her eyes, he continued, "Look, we don't know for sure that he did take them, either of them. You search here…I'll head up the mountain."

"Right," agreed Xena, calling back over her shoulder as she strode away, "Be careful…and don't take too long or I'm coming after you."

"Yeah, right," muttered Hercules under his breath as he turned in the other direction, heading up the dark mountain, oblivious to the driving rain and cold, bitter wind. As he disappeared into the darkness, he was wondering why his damned brother had chosen tonight of all nights to go after Iolaus. Gods, he'd thought that this was the one time of the year when mortals could relax, knowing the attention of the gods was elsewhere, on their own celebrations deep inside the mountain.

Worried about Iolaus, and having to pay attention to the slippery, muddy trail in the darkness and storm, Hercules didn't notice that he was being followed up the mountain by a dark, malicious shadow.

* * *

Xena was becoming frantic, though she tried to tell herself sternly to remain calm, that hysteria wouldn't help anything. But, she'd searched for more than an hour, had covered the whole disaster site more than once, having to stop and help when people dragged at her arm, begging her for assistance. Grudgingly, with brisk motion, and little evident empathy, she shoved aside barriers of shattered walls or other obstacles, not waiting to see if the worried villagers found anyone alive or not, before she was again on the move. But, consciously, whether she showed it or not, she noted the sounds of joy, not the sounds of mourning, so she didn't stop her own mission, driven by her own sense of almost overwhelming urgency. Relentlessly, she kept prowling the area. Searching.

"Dammit, Gabrielle, where are you?" she cursed as she pushed her rain sodden hair out of her eyes.

"I'm right here," came the lyrical voice from behind her.

Whirling, Xena grabbed her and hugged her, beyond relief to have her here, safe.

"Ommphhh!" the blond blew out in surprise at the strong grip. Struggling, she pushed back, demanding, "What's the matter with you?" just as Xena demanded, "Where have you been?"

"With the healer, helping him with the victims who needed care," Gabrielle explained, backing up a step. "Why? What's going on?"

"I've been looking for you for what seems like hours!" Xena replied, unconsciously reaching out to brush her friend's hair back from her face. "I thought Ares might have taken you, too."

"Ares?" Gabrielle exclaimed, confusion in her face. "Xena, what are you talking about?"

Blowing out a breath, letting the last of her fear go, Xena's gaze rose to again rake the area, lifting a hand as she explained, "Hercules got a message that Iolaus has been taken to the Vaults of Heaven…from the sound of it, we think Ares has taken Iolaus."

"But…" Gabrielle began, shaking her head, still frowning deeply.

"Who's taken me where?" Iolaus cut in, having arrived only in time to hear the last two words of the explanation. "Where's Hercules?"

Turning, Xena's eyes widened slightly when she realized that Iolaus was fine. What in Tarturus was going on here? "Where have you been?" angry, as if it was Iolaus' fault that he'd been nowhere to be seen.

"Over on the far side," he waved. "I found another kid alive, barely, and carried him to the healer's cottage. Stayed to help for awhile…it's a madhouse at his place. What's going on, Xena? Where's Hercules?"

"We were told you'd been taken to the Vaults of Heaven," she said quietly, already thinking about the possibilities, and not liking any of them.

"You were told…? Who told you? When?" Iolaus demanded, his questions bombarding her, having realized that his best friend would have taken off to rescue him already.

"A kid," Xena began.

"What kid?" Iolaus cut in, looking around, feeling a cold tendril of fear.

"I don't know. Just some kid, alright? He told Hercules that a big man, with a beard, dressed in black leather had told him to tell Hercules that his friend was in the Vaults of Heaven," she explained tightly, her expression flat…but her eyes were angry, frustrated by the wild goose chase, disgusted at being tricked.

"Ares," breathed Iolaus, wheeling to look up into the darkness, knowing that Hercules had been lured into going after him.

"That's what Hercules and I thought," Xena confirmed, chewing on her lip.

"We have to go after him," Gabrielle urged, now very worried.

Nodding, Iolaus turned to head into the darkness, but Xena grabbed his arm, wrenching him back as she ordered, "Wait!"

Shaking off her hand roughly, Iolaus snarled, "Wait? For what? Ares has tricked Hercules into going up there and I'm going after him."

"You won't do him any good racing off into the night until we've figured out what we're going to do. First, think. Why would Ares lure him up there tonight? All the gods are assembled in the Vault…having a party. It doesn't make any sense," Xena snarled back, her eyes flashing.

Heaving out a frustrated breath, Iolaus shook his head, but then he bit his lip, and nodded reluctantly. She was right. It didn't make any sense. But, they were gods. Gods never made any sense. "Look," he said, trying to sound reasonable, "it's anybody's guess what Ares is up to, but I'm not going to stand around here trying to puzzle it out when Herc could be in trouble. If you want to come, come…I'm going."

"We're coming," Gabrielle said with a determined glint in her eye.

"No, we're not," Xena replied, her voice brooking no argument, "I'm going…you're staying here."

Not in the least impressed with Xena's orders, Gabrielle shook her head. "You're not leaving me behind," she countered, her face flushed.

Xena turned on her, not in the least concerned with what her partner wanted, as she argued, "We don't know what's going on…how dangerous it might be."

Ignoring the rest of whatever she was saying, Iolaus muttered, "I don't have time for this." Turning away, he loped into the darkness, heading after his friend.

* * *

Having reached the entrance to the cavern, Hercules clattered down the stone steps toward the light and sound of voices some distance below. It sounded like laughter…like a party. Angry, wondering what sport they were making of his friend, or whether Ares had imprisoned him somewhere else, the demigod charged into the midst of the celebrations, his eyes raking the crowd.

No Iolaus.

Spotting Ares, he stormed directly toward his much despised half-brother, uncaring of the confusion and surprise he'd created by his abrupt and unexpected appearance in their midst. "What have you done with him?" he raged, grabbing the God of War by the collar of his vest.

Eyes narrowed, cold with anger, Ares looked from the mud-streaked fists bunched under his chin into Hercules' blazing eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied, his lips curled in a snarl, "and I suggest you take your filthy, and I mean that literally, hands off me."

Hercules muscles bunched, as he tightened his grip, "That's the wrong answer."

"Hercules! What's the meaning of this?" demanded Zeus, not at all amused by the disruption of the party in his honour.

"Ask him," Hercules replied tightly, not taking his eyes off his brother. "Ask him what he's done with Iolaus."

"Iolaus?" Zeus repeated, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"Who cares?" Ares drawled, stretching his neck a little, not wanting to enrage his father by murdering Zeus' favourite son in the middle of his favourite celebration. "I didn't do anything to the little runt, at least not recently."

"You told a kid down in the village that I'd find him here," Hercules snarled, tired of the games. "Now where is he?"

Ares rolled his eyes and looked askance at his father, his hands raised in helpless ignorance.

"When did you get this message, Hercules?" Zeus demanded, his gaze taking in the fact that everyone there was listening intently, engrossed by this unexpected but welcome diversion from a party that most of them really hadn't wanted to attend in the first place.

"Just over an hour ago," the demigod grated.

"Let him go," Zeus ordered, laying a hand on his half-mortal son's arm. "Whatever is going on, Ares is not involved…he's been here for hours."

Frowning, Hercules turned to look at his father, and then back at his brother. Ares raised his brows, nodding mutely, but the sardonic look in his eyes and his gratified smile said how much he was enjoying the fool Hercules was making out of himself.

It was then that they heard the grinding of stone on stone, and turned with the rest to look up the long flight of steps. The exit was sealed.

They were trapped in the Vaults of Heaven.

* * *

Smirking, the Sovereign inserted the over-sized golden key into the lock and turned it until he heard the click and it would go no further. Pulling it back out, he flipped the ring that held the key back onto its hook on the back of the massive stone seal, knowing full well that only those with divine blood or dead heroes could see it. Since he was the only one left outside with divine blood, and well…it wasn't likely that any dead heroes would wander by in the next few thousand years or so, leaving the key in plain sight wasn't a big risk. Figuring he might want to toss others into the cavern as the years went on, he wanted the key where he could find it easily.

"Have a nice party," he sneered, turning away. Pausing a moment at the head of the trail back down to the valley, the Sovereign stood to gaze around the mountain, up to the temples and palaces above the clouds, glimmering under the light of the moon. "Mine," he gloated. "All mine."

He flexed his muscles and smiled, pleased at the similarity between the two realities. Same gods, different roles. Same Olympus, same cavern. Same celebrations, same icons. So easy to trap them all…so very easy. But, this world was better, much better than his own world. More to pillage for one thing…and mouselike mortals that wouldn't have a clue what hit them when he imposed his power upon them. Laughing with the sheer pleasure of the reign of terror he imagined, he turned in a circle, surveying his new kingdom.

But, then his attention shifted back to the business which still remained…tormenting that irritating, despised little runt of a mortal who had dared to try to kill him, had stolen the dagger soaked in Hind's blood, and had lured him into the entrapment of the vortex. 'Ah yes,' he thought with a hard, cold glint in his eyes as he flexed his fists. "I'm going to enjoy showing you who's in charge now."

He started down the trail, careless of the rain or howling wind. If he had read the little creep right, he should already be on his way up here, searching for his oh so noble friend. There was a small plateau not too far below, and if he got there first, he could surprise his counterpart's sidekick.

"Yeah," he murmured gleefully, with cold malice, "Surprise!"

* * *

Iolaus slogged up the mountain trail, slipping in the mud, cursing his inability to go any faster. His hair was plastered to his head, the hard, cold rain stinging his bare arms and chest. But, he scarcely noticed, his thoughts far ahead, hoping Herc was alright.

It was with some relief that he arrived at the relatively flat spot, thinking he'd be able to make up some time as he ran across the plateau. He'd almost reached the far side, and could see the trail heading up into the darkness, when a silent shadow stepped out from the trees, blocking his way.

Iolaus skidded to a stop, his gaze taking in the familiar form. "Herc! Thank the gods you're all right!" he called out. "You had me worried. What was going on any…" his voice faded as a burst a lightning lit the plateau. Gasping, he stepped back, his hands up, stunned…hardly believing the evidence of his own eyes. "You!" Iolaus whispered, then tensed. This couldn't be good.

Stepping closer, out from under the darker shadows of the trees, the Sovereign gave the blond warrior a thin smile, his eyes blazing, as he replied, "Yeah. Me. Surprise!" He laughed then, an insane sound rising on the wind. "I've been looking forward to seeing you again," he smirked once he'd regained control.

"That's nice," Iolaus replied, wary, watching. "Personally, I'd kinda hoped to never see you again."

Shaking his head with feigned sorrow, the Sovereign took another step closer. "That's not much of a welcome to this nice little world you have here."

"It was you, wasn't it? You sent the message to Hercules," Iolaus challenged, his eyes narrowed against the rain. "What have you done to him?"

Holding out his hands innocently, the Sovereign replied. "Oh, not much, really. Just locked him up with the rest of the crowd in the Vault. They'll last forever…but I'm not sure how long a demigod can exist in a sealed, airless chamber. Of course, there was air still in it when I locked the door…but, gods breathe a lot you know." Looking up at the sky, as if speculating on the question, he said thoughtfully, almost as if he cared, "I'd give him a day…maybe a little less." Turning back to Iolaus, he asked, "What do you think?"

"I think you're either an idiot, or you're just trying to scare me," Iolaus snapped back. "Herc's fine…if he dies, you die and even you can't be so stupid as to have put his life in danger."

The Sovereign shrugged, his voice smug as he replied, "Ah well, dead, alive…he can't stop me now and neither can any of the rest of them. This world is mine."

Listening, realizing the danger the world was in, Iolaus felt his throat go dry, his heart clench. Desperately, he tried to remember what his buddy had said the night before about the Vaults of Heaven…gods couldn't get out if they were locked inside. His eyes lifting, searching the darkness higher on the mountain, he felt sick. They were all trapped in there. Gods, he had to get Hercules, and the rest of them, out of there! No one else could take on this maniac and imprison him somewhere, hopefully far away.

"Your sojourn in the wasteland hasn't improved you much," Iolaus taunted, "You're still the same sick miserable bastard you always were."

Chortling, the Sovereign replied, crossing his arms, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Iolaus heard the scrambling of footsteps over the sound of the rain, and he backed further away, to the centre of the plateau, needing to warn…

"Oh good, you found him!" Gabrielle's warm voice called out from behind him. But, Xena, noting Iolaus' tense posture put her hand on her friend's arm, keeping her from rushing forward.

"It's not Hercules," Iolaus called back over his shoulder. "It's the Sovereign."

Xena's hand clenched on Gabrielle's arm as she murmured sharply, her voice hard, dangerous. "Stay here." Easing forward slowly, Xena drew her sword in preparation for battle. She'd heard about the Sovereign and knew he posed a deadly danger to whoever got in his way.

Gabrielle, shocked by Iolaus' words, not willing to argue with Xena when she used that tone of voice, remained frozen in place.

"Oh, good, more company," the Sovereign observed, peering through the rain-lashed darkness. "Who are you?"

Iolaus threw a quick look back over his shoulder, saw the drawn sword. Horrified, he reminded her, "No, you can't kill him. If you do, you'll kill Hercules, too."

"Where is Hercules?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the dim outline of the big man who stood confident and relaxed several yards away.

"Locked in the Vault with the gods," Iolaus replied. "I have to get them all out of there so that they can deal with this monster."

Coming up behind him, and a little to the side, Xena shook her head. "If they're locked in there, there isn't anything you can do…mortals can't see the keys, remember," she said quietly, but there was steel in her voice. "I can't let this monster off the mountain."

Amused, not in any hurry, enjoying his victory, anticipating his dominance, and what that would mean, how enjoyable it would be, over this proud little mortal warrior, the Sovereign crossed his arms and leaned back against a tree. He couldn't hear their words, though he wasn't worried. With the gods locked up, there wasn't anyone left in this reality who could hurt him. There was something familiar about the woman, though…the tone of her voice, the way she moved. Licking his lips, he admired her form, her grace of motion. Yeah, this was going to fun.

Iolaus had understood Xena's message. 'Hercules is only one man. I'm going to kill this bastard before he destroys the world.'

"No!" he argued. "I can get Herc and the gods out…they'll deal with this guy. Don't kill him."

Cutting a quick look to Iolaus, Xena frowned…and, then she realized what he was saying…what he was going to do. Laying a hand on his shoulder, her voice tight, she protested, "Iolaus…you can't!"

"I have to," Iolaus replied, swallowing hard. 'Only the spirits of heroes gone before….' He couldn't risk the quick, easy way…a suicide might not count as heroism. No…heroes died in battle. "Keep him busy once I'm gone, don't let him off the mountain…but don't kill him. It won't take the good guys long to get here."

"Iolaus! No!" Xena's voice sounded strangled as she held more firmly to his shoulder. "Don't do this!"

Wordlessly, he pulled away from her grip, advancing on the evil demigod, wanting to get this over as fast as he could.

* * *

Some tried blasts of energy and fire, some simply tried the tried and true method of vanishing, Hercules had pushed at it, shoved, pulled…nothing. They were well and truly trapped in the ancient prison with no way of getting out.

"Damn!" the demigod snarled as he pounded a fist against the immovable stone. Finally accepting that he wasn't going to get it out of the way, he turned and leaned against it, slowing sliding down until he was sitting disconsolately on the top stone step.

Aphrodite had been standing just a few steps down, watching his efforts hopefully, and now she too sagged a bit in resignation. "You can't move it?" she asked, to be certain, her face all scrunched up.

Weary, disgusted, Hercules just shook his head and looked away.

"Bummer," 'Dite grumbled, casting a reluctant look back down the stairs. As cheerful as she'd been when they'd arrived, and as much as it was nice to see Zeus happy, for any one of a thousand reasons, this party was a definite bore and the idea of being trapped in it for eternity was far from pleasant.

Catching her look as he mounted the stairs to join them, Ares said sardonically, "I told you it was a mistake to hold this party every year. Once in a thousand would be more than enough."

"Well, maybe you'd like to suggest that to Daddy when we all get out of here…oh, wait, no, we're likely to actually be at this party for a thousand years!" Aphrodite sniped back, raising her hands in exasperation.

"If not a whole lot longer than that," Ares replied, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as he chewed on his lip. "And you, I thought you had the strength to move anything…what a disappointment to find out that's not true," he continued sarcastically as he mounted the last few steps to sit beside his brother.

Hercules gave him a look that was distinctly unfriendly, but just shook his head as he muttered, "Are you wondering what I'm wondering?"

Sighing, as he leaned back against the massive stone seal, Ares nodded. "If we're ALL in here, then who the hell locked us in?"

"Yep, that's pretty much what I was wondering," Hercules sighed right along with him, leaning back and lifting his eyes to check out the walls and ceiling. There sure didn't look to be a lot of options. Frowning, he wondered aloud, "Who do we know who is big, wears black leather, has a beard and is mean and scary…and who it now seems wants all the gods locked away indefinitely?"

"You mean, besides me?" Ares clarified.

"Yeah, besides you," Hercules blew out a sigh, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands rubbing his face as he tried to think this through.

Suddenly, he straightened up, his face empty of all expression as the description tugged at his memory, a dawning awareness in his eyes. "Oh no," he murmured.

"What?" asked Aphrodite, her eyes widening in alarm at the look in Hercules' eyes.

"Who?" demanded Ares, knowing that was more to the point.

* * *

"What about your double?" Xena snarled after him, trying to find some argument that would deflect him from his path toward oblivion. "I thought you protected innocents…not killed them coldly, deliberately, without warning!" her bitter, harsh words, seething with contempt, lashed him.

Iolaus held up a hand, as if to ward off the attack, but his step faltered. Head down, he swallowed, wondering what to do. Xena was right…this wasn't just about his life. Someone else would die, too…someone who had no means to save himself.

Gabrielle had been listening, straining to understand what they were talking about, and she'd gleaned enough of their meaning to go cold with dread. Iolaus couldn't…he wouldn't! But…she remembered the story Hercules had told them as well as the others. 'The story I thought was 'romantic',' she thought bitterly.

Neither Xena nor Gabrielle knew a lot about the other dimension or whatever it was, a parallel place and time. But, they had heard that when a person died in one of the worlds, their counterparts died in the other as well. It had left them with a peculiar feeling of helplessness and anger that their fates could be so irrevocably tied to the actions of invisible, unknowable doubles.

Bored, the Sovereign yawned theatrically, stretching his muscles, liking the feeling of the power of his strength. Besides, it was cold and wet on this damned mountain and he had better things to do than stand around listening to their whispered exchange. Things like teaching the blond runt a lesson he wouldn't soon forget…oh, he'd have his jester in this world, too. Grinning like a wolf that has spotted its prey, he straightened from the tree and began to move forward like a panther on the hunt…sleek and very dangerous.

His movement caught Gabrielle's eye and she called out a warning, rousing the other two from their tense preoccupation, both moving into a ready stance as they watched him come.

'Rabbits,' he thought arrogantly, thinking they were terrified of them, as well they should be. Unchallenged in his own world until the end, he never considered resistance would meet him here, expecting only fear and submission.

"He's as strong as Hercules," Iolaus murmured to the warrior behind him, "and he doesn't pull his punches. Be careful."

* * *

Wild shouting and distant screams filled the air, the clash of steel, the hollow ring of hooves on cobblestones, and there was smoke, acrid and thick, from the many fires that burnt throughout the city. It was chaos, as the resistance fought the new tyrant, the Empress, who had risen to take the place of the missing Sovereign.

Iolaus, hunched low behind the fountain in the small square, more like a courtyard, off the main road. Panting, he bit his lip, terrified, wondering how long he could crouch here undiscovered, despising his fear but helpless to be anything but what he was. No warrior, he'd never learned to use the tools of battle, the sword, spear, bow or cudgel. Gods, if he wasn't careful, he'd cut himself on the knife he used to cut his food.

Sweat dripped from his brow, mingling with blood from a cut over his right eye…but that didn't worry him. He already had so many scars he'd lost count, souvenirs of life in this nightmare world. He held his breath when he heard the horses clattering closer, the noise of battle bearing down upon him. Desperately, he looked around, seeking some means of escape, some place to hide. But, there was nothing. A few barrels stacked by a wall, some crates and an empty wagon, not even any straw to burrow into. Walls towered around him, blank, staring stone, cold and pitiless. The only way out was back through that narrow alley, back into the jaws of death.

Pressing his eyes closed, he fought back a sob of despair. If he wasn't such a coward, he'd be out there already…had been for a while. When he'd first come back from the other place, inspired by the example of the Sovereign's decent and courageous double, chastened by the model set by his own twin, he'd tried. He'd joined the other revolutionaries, and fired by determination and hope, he'd even led others…until they'd been cut down, mercilessly, ill-equipped and untrained, sacrifices to his pride. He felt tears burn in his eyes as he remembered them, fighting so desperately, courageously, until he'd been struck on the head, knocked out and ignored as the battle progressed. Thought to be already dead.

When he'd regained consciousness, he'd been alone in a field of death, surrounded by the bodies of those who had trusted him. Their enemies hadn't bothered about the decency of burial, or even cremation, leaving the corpses sprawled horribly where they lay. Consumed by guilt, sick with loss, he'd retched helplessly, tears blinding his eyes. His fault. He'd persuaded them to stand up against the evil, persuaded them to fight, led them here…to this.

Gods, why couldn't he have been killed, too? Why did he still have to go on living in this hell? What purpose could his life possibly serve when these others had been abandoned by the Fates? Gripping his wounded left arm with his right hand, trying unconsciously to stem the bleeding, dizzy with the injury to his head, he'd wept helplessly. It probably wasn't even his own life the Fates were protecting, but most likely the life of the hero that would be snuffed out if he was killed here, for his folly, for his blind stupidity.

Well, maybe that was all the purpose he had, to stay alive so that the other one, his brave and capable, heroic double could go on doing what he had to do in another world. He'd struggled to his feet, staggering as he looked around at the carnage. There was no sound except for the birds keening above and his own stifled sobs. It was as if he was the only person left alive. Wearily, as he'd looked at his fallen comrades, he knew he couldn't leave them like this, he owed them decency if nothing else. Pulling those he knew, and then even the bodies of the enemy, into a growing pile, swallowing the bile and the unbearable sorrow, he'd built a pyre and set it alight, uncaring if it drew others back who would kill him, too. Life here wasn't worth living.

But, then, once again, his mind had turned to the other Iolaus, a man he'd barely glimpsed as they'd passed one another in the vortex. Much as he ached to die, he knew he didn't have that right…it would cost others too much. Stumbling away from the battleground, he heaped more scorn upon his own head, snorting in self-derision. Pretend as much as he might want, his inner core of integrity, though he would never have called it such, challenged that his concern for the other Iolaus, the courageous Iolaus, was only an excuse to hide away, to protect his own life because he was more afraid of death than life, as wretched as it was.

Whimpering a little, sniffing as he raked fingers across his eyes, smearing the blood on his face, he'd made his way back to the city. At least he knew his way around there, it was familiar, not like the empty, frightening countryside and dark, forboding forests. Keeping a wary lookout, used to acting with discretion and care, he'd made his way this far, but had had to duck into this courtyard to avoid rampaging riders, only to find that he'd led himself into a trap.

Iolaus leaned his forehead on his arm, which was stretched along the rim of the fountain. Gods, he was exhausted.

There was a clatter of hooves, and a shout like the baying of a hound that's found the scent. His head jerked up, his eyes wide, filled with fear as he stared at the enemy who had found him.

* * *

"Who?" Ares demanded again, impatiently.

Staring into the air, Hercules shook his head a little in denial, but it was the only thing he could think of that made even remotest sense. Frowning a little, he muttered, "The Sovereign."

"The who?" 'Dite asked, her brows puckered, eyes narrowed as she tried to think who Hercules could mean. There were lots of 'sovereigns' all over Greece.

Ares, quicker on the uptake when it came to matters of deadly import, caught the demigod's meaning almost immediately, "You mean the other guy…the evil you?"

When Hercules nodded briefly, still considering the implications, his throat tight with worry when he remembered the grudge his counterpart carried for Iolaus, Ares smirked, "Hey, I've been wanting to meet this guy…sounds like my kind of dude."

Bitterly, Hercules nodded slowly as he turned to face his hated brother, "You'd find him amusing for about ten minutes…but his cynical delight in unbelievable brutality would even sicken you."

Ares speculated about this briefly, cocking his head a little as he replied, "Your living, breathing antithesis, eh? Yeah, I can see that anything too extreme would be tiresome. A touch of honour in an otherwise thoroughly black heart adds a certain panache. Without it, well," the God of War shrugged, "it's all just too predictable."

"We have GOT to get out of here!" Hercules raged with frustration and fear as he rose to his feet to once again attack the immovable barrier of stone. "Come on, dammit, HELP ME!"

Ares looked up at him for a moment, licked his upper lip, then nodded as he, too, rose to lend his strength to the effort.

But, though they heaved with all their combined strength, grunting with the effort of it, the stone was implacable, unmoved and unmoving.

* * *

Iolaus and Xena instinctively moved apart, separating to give them a better chance against the Sovereign. Snorting contemptuously at their pathetic gestures of resistance, he shifted with one smooth flow of muscle from prowl to leap, toward Iolaus, his primary target.

Iolaus dodged, but the mud under his feet didn't give sufficient grip and he slipped, not able to jump far or fast enough. The Sovereign caught his arm, pulling him around, delivering a solid punch that felt like a battering ram to his ribs.

Grunting, Iolaus doubled over, gasping for breath, and then the Sovereign pulled him up, backhanding him viciously, whirling at the same time to hold Iolaus' body as a shield between him and Xena, who had plunged forward herself, sword aimed at his back.

The Warrior Goddess skidded to a halt, the point of her blade barely swinging away in time to avoid gutting Iolaus. The hunter burst into motion, snapping his head and his elbows back at the same time, driving himself into the Sovereign's body, stunning him momentarily. Grabbing the wrist of the hand that gripped his arm like a steel vise, Iolaus swiveled and dropped, pulling the Sovereign up and over, flipping him onto his back.

The furious demigod roared with rage, rolling over to kick out at Xena and drive her back. Iolaus had rolled clear, staggering to his feet, one arm pressed across his chest, panting for breath as he backed away.

Scrambling in the mud, the Sovereign again went for the hunter, lunging forward with the speed of a striking snake, getting a grip on the smaller man's ankle, pulling him down, dragging him closer as Iolaus kicked out and twisted, gasping at the agony that flashed through his chest.

Xena hoped to use the demigod's distraction with Iolaus to advantage, springing forward to bring the pommel of her sword hard down on his head. But, he hadn't forgotten her, and rolled away just as she lunged down, leaving her off-balance. One fist gripping Iolaus' ankle, his other crashed into Xena's jaw. She jerked out of the way enough that it glanced off her face, but the full force of the blow fell on her shoulder, and she cried out as bones snapped. She continued her evasive move, rolling away, ignoring the pain that numbed her right arm, but he wasn't finished with her yet.

Grabbing her hair, he yanked her back, pressing her face into the mud, suffocating her. She fought with the power and fury of a lion, but felt the world began to blur. Iolaus, seeing the danger, had stopped fighting and had flung himself forward, bringing a foot up to kick the Sovereign's head, stunning him enough for Xena to roll out of his grasp, gasping.

His attention back on Iolaus, the Sovereign swarmed over him, rolling with him in the mud, banging his head mercilessly against the rocky earth while Iolaus smashed his face with desperate fists, kicking…but, this was a power, a brutality and application of overwhelming strength that none of them had ever seen before. Hercules had always curbed his strength, always, even against enemies, even when blind with rage. But, the Sovereign reveled in his destructive capacity.

He laughed in rich delight as the hunter's struggles weakened, until the man lay limp and unconscious under his hands.

"And so ends lesson number one," he crowed, just before lights exploded with pain in his head, and he saw stars…then only darkness.

* * *

Terrified, Iolaus scrambled backwards on the cobblestones, trying to get away from those eyes, a killer's eyes. Slowly, savouring the moment, the rider advanced into the tiny courtyard, huge and terrifying upon his massive mount, looming ever closer to the hapless, helpless man sprawled before him on the damp, cold stone. He laughed, then, as he drew his sword.

Trembling in fear, Iolaus pushed himself to his feet, his eyes wide with horror. Suddenly, inexplicably, he felt pain rip through his chest, and then there was blinding pain in his head, both sharp stabs of agony causing him to lurch backwards, against the wall behind him.

But, there was no wall, no support. Whimpering with the pain, Iolaus fell back…into darkness.

The mounted soldier's eyes widened at what he had just seen. The little rabbit, the Sovereign's former jester, had just disappeared before his eyes! But, before he could move, or shout out an exclamation, he felt a burning tear in his back, and stunned, he fell from his horse, dead before he hit the ground.

The rebel archer smiled coldly, then turned to race from the alley, seeking another target, unaware that moments before, there had been two men in the small dismal courtyard, dark from the shadows of the high walls of stone.

* * *

Gabrielle stood over the unconscious demigod, a solid length of wood in her hand. It wasn't as well balanced as her staff, which she'd left back in the village in their hurry to depart, but it worked just as well. Tossing the broken branch aside, she turned hurriedly to kneel by Xena, gently cradling her friend's head in her hand.

"Xena?" she called out softly, hurriedly wiping mud from her friend's face, brushing back the soaking hair.

"MMmphh," the Warrior Princess muttered, bringing her left hand up to keep fighting.

Gabrielle dodged the semi-conscious attack, calling louder, "Xena, it's me, Gabrielle! Wake up!"

Long dark lashes twitched and blinked, then the normally stolid face creased in pain as her damaged right shoulder asserted its need for attention. Struggling to sit up, aided by Gabrielle, she looked around, a little dazed. "Iolaus?" she mumbled.

"He's over there, under the Sovereign," Gabrielle explained, with a quick, worried glance in that direction.

Shaking her head to clear it, her left hand coming up to support her right arm, Xena gestured with her head toward their fallen friend. "See if he's alright," she directed, spitting out mud.

Gabrielle gave her a quick look, assuring herself that her friend would live, if need some time to heal, then she scrambled over to the two unmoving bodies. Grunting with the effort, she rolled the Sovereign off Iolaus, and knelt by the hunter feeling for a pulse, sagging a little with relief when she found it, a little fast, but strong enough and steady.

Gently, she patted his face, wishing it wasn't so damned dark and she could see how badly he was hurt.

"'s alright," he mumbled, frowning deeply at the pain that ripped through his head, and his chest, making it hard to breathe or concentrate.

"He's alive!" Gabrielle called back to Xena, who had managed to get to her feet and was walking unsteadily toward them.

"Well, that's a relief," she said dryly, eying the unconscious demigod with disfavour as she moved past him. "Is he?"

"Oh…I don't know," Gabrielle replied, startled, not having had time to think about it.

"Herc!" Iolaus gasped, trying to roll over, only to groan with pain and fall back into the mud.

Realizing the danger, Gabrielle turned to the demigod, then audibly sighed with relief when she found he was still breathing, though apparently deeply unconscious. "He's not dead," she reported.

"Thank the gods," Iolaus sighed, closing his eyes in relief.

"Maybe," Xena replied, not as convinced. Gods, the guy was a monster, almost unstoppable.

Gabrielle had gone back to kneel by Iolaus, sick with worry over the sound of his rasping, shallow breaths. "Tell me where you're hurt," she urged.

Iolaus almost laughed, but his breath caught in a painful cough, leaving him wheezing a little. But, then his thoughts returned to the business at hand. The damned Sovereign wouldn't stay unconscious forever. And they were no longer in any shape to keep fighting him.

He had to free the gods!

Xena had gone down on one knee beside him, searching his face, trying to decide if he was just badly battered, or worse.

"Have to…have to find the keys," Iolaus forced out, past the pain.

"Not that way, Iolaus," she countered, afraid he'd just let himself slip away.

"Might…might be something…learned long time…ago," he gasped, the muscles of his chest spasmed in cramps from the battering they'd taken. But, he was almost unaware of the pain as he struggled to remember distant lessons of the past, lessons he'd rarely had to draw on. And, he'd only once gone so far before, and that was with his teacher's guidance.

"What?" Xena asked, frowning, ignoring her own pain.

"Deep trance," he explained, forcing the words with each breath. "Soul…can leave…the body. For awhile."

She shook her head, knowing what he meant, having done it herself. "No…you need a guide. And you're too badly hurt…"

"No…choice," he cut in, licking his lips, tasting the blood. "Watch him. Gabri…"

"I'm here," the bard cut in softly, frowning, wishing there was something she could do. Scared. The last time Xena had done this, they almost hadn't gotten her back.

"Kneel…behind me…hands on sides…of my face. Don't let…go," he whispered, knowing he was fading and fighting it. He had to stay conscious, concentrate…had to do this.

Hastily, Gabrielle shifted position, tenderly laying her hands along the sides of Iolaus' head, holding him securely.

Xena shook her head, swallowing as she looked away. "Good luck," she murmured, her voice unexpectedly soft. As if it irritated by the slight show of emotion, she bent to retrieve her sword. Then using it for support, she stood to move back toward the Sovereign, almost hoping he'd give her an excuse to kill him…but having to grit her teeth at the aching sorrow of what that would mean.

Iolaus focused, blocking out the pain, finding his centre, letting it all go, letting the resistance, the pull of his lungs for air, everything…go…and felt himself spiral, slowly, to the calm of utter peace.

* * *

Rubbing his head, moaning a little, Iolaus woke, surprised to find himself still alive. Dazed, he looked around, frowning when he realized he was no longer in the courtyard. Pushing himself to his feet, his frightened gaze raked the narrow, stony walls, the heaps of stone, searching for the rider who had been intent upon killing him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned in a small circle. "Where am I?" he mumbled, not recognizing anything…until he turned to face the solid wall behind him and started backwards in surprise.

As if he was looking through a gauzy curtain, he could see the small, dark courtyard, the fountain, the horse standing quietly…and the dead soldier on the cobblestones, an arrow protruding from his back.

Confused, he reached forward, and his hand plunged through the filmy barrier. Startled, he pulled back, trembling. Sinking to his knees in the small space between a massive pile of boulders and the portal back to the courtyard, he stared out at the world he hated, wondering how he could ever force himself to re-enter it now that he'd found some kind of strange haven.

But, made cautious by experience, he again examined the odd cave he'd found himself in, where there should have been a stone wall, a tavern on the other side. What dangers might lurk in here?

In an agony of indecision, he rocked a little, confused, frightened, in pain. Wondering what he should do.

* * *

Nothingness. Weightlessness. A sense of rising…floating…

Iolaus suddenly found himself looking down at his body. Lifting his eyes, he saw Gabrielle, and Xena, and then he looked down at the hated demigod that looked so much like the man he'd trust with his life. Swallowing back imagined bile, he asked, "Can you see me? Hear me?"

But, there was no response. He wasn't visible to them. 'Right,' he thought, turning with determination to head up the mountain. 'Let's see if this works.'

Uninhibited by the mud or steepness of the climb, he found he could move quickly, almost like he was flying up the incline. But, the farther away he got from his body, the more he realized he was getting confused, uncertain. 'Keys,' he thought grimly, 'unlock cavern.' Repeating the words like a mantra to hold onto his mission, he continued up the dark mountainside.

By the time he got to the plateau above, he couldn't remember anything, not who he was, or why he needed keys to unlock a cavern. Only aware of a driving sense of urgency, a desperate determination not to fail, he pushed on, 'Keys, unlock cavern. Keys, unlock cavern.' Over and over he repeated the words as his eyes raked the darkness, finally lighting on the darker hollow in the mountain. Moving rapidly in that direction, the words echoing in his mind, he moved under the looming ridge, and saw the key dangling from a massive wheel of stone.

He didn't wonder about how he could see in the dark, didn't notice it was dark. His eyes glued to the key, he moved forward and reached out, sobbing in relief though he didn't know why. Pulling the ring from the hook, he kept whispering, 'Keys, unlock cavern,' until he spotted the ancient lock. Shoving the ornate golden key home, he turned it, hearing the click.

"Cavern unlocked," he whispered to himself, mission accomplished. Looking around, he wondered where he was, who he was…wondered what to do next.

* * *

Startled, they heard the click of the lock turning. Black eyes met blue, and then both brothers were heaving on the stone, roaring with effort and exhilaration. Slowly, but smoothly, it gave way before their efforts, rolling to the side.

"You did it!" Aphrodite squealed in delight. "We're outta here!" she shouted, drawing the attention of those in the cavern below. Losing no time, gods and goddesses blinked from sight, eager to escape their grim prison. Some though, curious, appeared at the top of the stairs, to congratulate Ares and Hercules on their success, wondering how they'd done it. Zeus, because he was the King and nominally, at least, in charge, felt he should know what had occurred. Hades, had come along out of sardonic amusement to see how Ares and Hercules would react, having achieved a victory together. Heph popped into sight because he was interested in mechanical things, and Persephone came because she stuck close to Hades.

Hercules just shook his head at 'Dite's words and plunged out into the darkness, intent upon finding his evil twin, afraid of what the Sovereign may have done to Iolaus. He charged across the plateau without a sideways glance, less concerned about who had unlocked the barrier than about stopping whatever havoc and death the Sovereign might be dealing out. Heph was focused on the lock mechanism, and 'Dite exasperated, had snapped out of sight.

Ares threw a look at his father, smirking as he murmured, "Interesting party this year, Zeus. But, let's not do this again anytime soon."

The King of the Gods' eyes narrowed at his son, not liking the insolence, but in fairness having to agree with him. He sighed and nodded silently, as Hades pushed past Hephaestus into the darkness beyond. There was something…

Coming out of the tunnel of stairs, he paused to look around, spotting the slightly shimmering spirit standing off to the side, almost hidden in the shadows. Shaking his head, he wondered why he wasn't surprised. "So, it was you," he sighed, already thinking about the paperwork and the trouble this could cause.

Persephone, emerging into the shallow cave right behind him, stopped in shocked surprise. "Iolaus! What are you doing here?"

"I don't know…" he murmured uncertainly, wondering who these people were.

"It's the curse, my dear," Hades explained grandly. "The key can only be seen, and therefore used, by gods or by the spirits of heroes gone before. Since we were all trapped inside, it required the spirit of a hero."

"Oh no," sighed Persephone. "He's dead? Not again…."

But, Hades was shaking his head as he studied the apparition before him. "No…he's not dead, at least not yet," he murmured thoughtfully to his bride. "Where's your body?" he asked Iolaus, blunt and to the point as always.

But, the blond hunter just shook his head, worried that the beautiful woman thought he was dead, but feeling very confused…insubstantial somehow. Not really there. "I don't know," he replied again, his eyes wide with worried wonder. "I don't remember anything…not who I am…or where," he said quietly, staring at them. "Do you know me?"

"Oh yes," Hades sighed in a long suffering manner, "Better than I'd like to. Well, we'd best find your body…it can't be far from here." Frowning at Iolaus, studying him intently and noting his increasing insubstantiality, he muttered to himself, "You're running out of time…."

* * *

Hercules had skidded down the dark path, grateful at least that the damned rain had finally stopped and the wind had dropped. The clouds had blown off, making it easier to see under the light of the nearly full moon. As he reached the end of the path at the lower plateau, he burst out upon the level land, then stumbled to a halt, horrified by the tableau in front of him.

Xena, standing with a sword at the Sovereign's throat as he laid tense, looking back up at her. Gabrielle, kneeling by…Iolaus.

Driven forward by fear, Hercules raced toward them, then dropped to his knees beside his friend, reaching out to lay a hand on his chest. He felt the slow, shallow motion and, this close, he could hear the ragged breathing. But, his buddy's face was alabaster in the moonlight, pale against the darker tones of Gabrielle's fair hands. His throat clogged with too many questions, too much anxiety, the demigod looked up at Xena, needing answers.

"His spirit went to free you," she stated succinctly, if unhelpfully.

"His…spirit?" Hercules repeated, not understanding, then horrified comprehension gripped his heart when he recalled the curse on the cavern. "Oh gods," he murmured, stricken with fear. His buddy was breathing still…but for how much longer?

Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, the Sovereign pushed the sword away as he rolled in the opposite direction, coming quickly to his feet. Startled, she moved back instinctively, lashing out, cutting a thin line across his chest.

"Xena!" Gabrielle screamed, "Don't!"

With a roar of maddened rage, his control snapped by fear for his friend and boundless fury at the monster who had caused all this, Hercules rose and dove at the Sovereign in one blur of motion, striking him with such force that his evil twin flew backward to skid in the mud. His own demented anger unleashed, he flipped to his feet and came back at Hercules, and the two demigods grappled together, too frenzied to even think of the consequences of killing the other.

Xena stood poised, watching for an opening, wanting to help but sensible enough to realize she could just get in the way, that her strength was no match for the battling behemoths pounding one another mercilessly a few yards away. Gabrielle, her hands still locked against Iolaus' head, watched the battle play out, frightened, hoping that Hercules could beat his twin without killing him.

Unseen, unheard, unnoticed, Hades and Persephone flashed onto the plateau, Iolaus in tow. Taking in the situation, Hades bellowed, "Zeus, Ares! Come to me, NOW!"

When the other two gods flashed in almost before the echo of his summons had died, he cocked his head at the raging demigods. "Deal with that," he directed, then turned his attention back to Iolaus.

Iolaus was watching the fighting, more confused than ever to see huge, muscular, unbelievably strong twins apparently trying to kill each other.

"Iolaus!" Hades called to him, but not recognizing his name, no longer even remembering the cavern where they'd been moments before, Iolaus didn't respond.

Persephone, understanding, touched his arm, getting his attention. Startled, he turned to her, wondering what she wanted, who she was…who he was, for that matter.

"Thank you, my dear," Hades acknowledged her intervention. "You," he called louder, drawing Iolaus' eyes to him, "Yes, you…that's your body," Hades explained pointing down to the limp form on the ground. "Get back into it."

"Get back…?" Iolaus echoed, his voice distant as he faded further from view. Not understanding. "How?"

Exasperated, Hades shook his head and willed himself to be visible. "You, blondie," he called to Gabrielle, startling her so that she jumped as her head turned toward him, her eyes widening as she gasped.

"No!" she cried out, terrified, having a pretty good idea of who this god was. "You can't take him! You can't!"

There was something about her frantic wail that cut through the red fog that had surrounded Hercules, blinding him to all else. Pulling back suddenly from the Sovereign, he wheeled, paling when he saw Hades standing there, with Persephone…and Iolaus, shimmering vaguely, barely visible, in the moonlight beside her.

"Hades!" he cried out, desperate, "NO!"

"Would you all just chill out," the God of the Underworld replied scathingly. "I'm not trying to take him…I'm trying to get him back where he belongs before his body succumbs to the loss of its spirit." Taking a breath, he turned back to glare at Gabrielle. "Now, you, call him, call him loudly and press those pretty little hands of yours as hard as you can against his head."

Turning, he pointed at Iolaus, "And, you, get over there and lie down on top of the body…just…relax, and let yourself sink back into it."

The Sovereign had been diving at Hercules' back when he found himself caught in midair, unable to move. Zeus and Ares materialized beside him, staring at him thoughtfully.

"Handsome devil," Ares observed. "Like the beard."

"Hmm," Zeus replied, shaking his head. "You're the one who tried to kill me in the other world," he observed, clearly not pleased by the thought.

"Can I kill him?" Ares asked, flexing a raised fist hopefully.

Zeus cast him a withering look. "No," he replied, stroking his chin. "But we can't just put him back where he was, not if he knows how to escape."

Meanwhile, Gabrielle was shouting Iolaus' name, while the Sovereign cursed and struggled, loudly demanding to be set free so that he could TEAR THEM APART!

Iolaus gingerly settled himself on top of his body and closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself sinking back into it, feeling an odd pull at the sound of Gabrielle's voice.

Hercules stood frozen, his mouth dry, his throat tight, as he watched, waited.

Suddenly, the shimmering vision of Iolaus dissipated, and his body drew a deeper breath, then another.

Gabrielle sagged with relief, while Xena moved to Hercules, putting a steadying arm around him. "He'll be alright," she assured quietly.

Numbly, he nodded as he moved forward and then knelt at his partner's side, taking one of Iolaus' hands in his own. Trembling a little, his eyes moist, he looked back up at Hades and Persephone. "Thanks," he murmured.

Hades lifted his hands in the air, backing up. "Don't thank me," he replied, shaking his head. "I didn't do anything more than tell him to lie down. Frankly, I didn't need the hassle of him, or you, in my life right now. I've enough work to do." Turning to Persephone, he held out a hand, "Come, my dear, it's time we went home."

"Oh, Hades," she smiled at him, not fooled for a minute by his gruff manner. She'd seen the little magic he'd worked to strengthen the hunter's badly damaged body, "I love you."

"Humphh!" he snorted lightly, cocking a sardonic brow. "As so you should. I've been told I'm a very sweet god." Tilting his head to indicate they had better things to do, the smoldering look in his eyes giving a strong message as to what that was exactly, she giggled and took his arm just as they both shimmered from sight.

Iolaus coughed, then blinked. Mumbling a bit, one hand coming up to hold his aching head, he opened his eyes and looked around. When he saw Hercules kneeling beside him, he grinned ear to ear, crowing as loud as his aching ribs would allow, "I did it!"

Smiling back, Hercules nodded, "Yes, you did." Then, he reached out a restraining hand as Iolaus began to struggle to sit up, gasping at the wrenching pain in his chest. "Whoa, slow down," he cautioned. "How badly are you hurt?"

Frowning, Iolaus paused a moment to inventory the damage. Aching head, split lip, ribs… he felt his chest and sides gingerly…cracked maybe. Looking back up at Hercules, he reported brightly, albeit surprised given his memory of the blows he had taken, "Not bad…no worse than usual, anyway. Help me up."

Cautiously, keeping a close watch, Hercules obliged. Gabrielle had moved to lend support to Xena, who though pretending she didn't really need it, was glad of a shoulder to lean on. They all turned then, to see Zeus and Ares still considering the problem of the Sovereign.

Ares had come up with a number of tempting suggestions: imprisoning him in a bubble under the sea, or in space, or in the centre of the earth, sending him to Tarturus (a euphemism for killing him which Zeus didn't appreciate, glancing meaningfully at Hercules then back at his aggressive and ever hopeful son), locking him in crystal, turning him into marble to pose as a statue on Olympus outside his temple…good ideas, lots of them.

But, Zeus just shook his head. "Balance," he murmured. "We can't keep him in this world."

"Gods," Iolaus protested unconsciously, but they both turned to look at him anyway, "you can't send him back to his world! He's a maniacal murderer with unlimited power there!"

"Yes," rumbled Zeus, remembering the attack on his own twin, "I see the problem."

He pondered a moment more, then shrugged regally. "I can see no option but to send him back into a between space, perhaps a more limited, confining space where he'd have less opportunity to devise an escape."

Ares sighed and rolled his eyes. Even his worst idea had been better than this. Still, Dad was King and what he ruled carried the day. Casting a sympathetic glance at the evil demigod, understanding so well why this guy wanted to take control of Olympus, he shrugged and nodded his agreement.

"Ready?" Zeus asked mildly.

"Ready," Ares responded.

They both raised their arms to send powerful blasts of light and energy into the air, one after another after another until the vortex opened.

"NOOOOOO!!!!" shrieked the defeated and very demented demigod as he was caught by the force and pulled away into it until he disappeared and the vortex vanished.

Dusting off their hands, bowing to one another in satisfaction, Zeus and Ares vanished.

"Typical," Hercules sighed as he looked down at his battered buddy. "They didn't say thanks."

"Maybe not," shrugged Iolaus, then winced. "But, at least they sent him far, far away." Turning to the others, he asked, "So, what'd I miss?"

"Nothing much," replied Xena, with her 'been there, seen it all, done it all', world weary manner.

But, Gabrielle snickered. Giggling, she reported, "When the Sovereign looked up, he came all over charming to Xena, and invited her to be his Queen on Olympus. Said they got along great in his world."

"Well, that's true enough," Iolaus reflected with a shudder of remembrance.

Xena curled her lip, her eyes narrow. "That's disappointing," she muttered. "I'd like to think my counterpart has better taste."

This time, both Gabrielle and Iolaus cracked up, laughing hysterically as they looked pointedly at the Warrior Princess and the Demigod. Hercules blushed furiously as he turned away, while Xena sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, grow up," she groused, turning to head back to the village.

Snickering, Iolaus leaned a little on Gabrielle's shoulder, "So, favourite bard of mine…let's go back to the Festival."

Hercules turned to look at him, battered, bleeding, holding his arm across his chest. "The Festival?" he repeated, shaking his head.

'Yeah," Iolaus replied, looking toward the east and the newly rising sun. "it looked like all the villagers survived the landslide, so they'll really feel like partying. If we're lucky, we won't have missed a thing!"

* * *

The Sovereign skidded down the long entrance into the small, rocky cave, cursing and spitting his uncontrollable rage.

By the back wall, Iolaus turned to peer over the large boulders, startled and pale as he began to tremble. Stepping silently through the wall back into the empty courtyard, he thought a time might come when the perils of being close to the Sovereign would be worse than the terrors of the world outside.

But, today wasn't that day.