Chapter Six: Digging Deeper

To Adrasteia, the temple's standard breakfast of fish, freshly delivered from the coast each morning, alongside bread still warm from the baker's oven and piping hot broth, had never before looked so appetizing. In the past it had always seemed dull to her, just another example of the rigid routine of daily life within the Temple of Apollo. That, of course, was entirely before she had set out for Sparta. Compared to the barest amounts of food she had endured on the road, and even on Drevus' ship, this was a veritable feast.

The aroma of fresh bread filled her nostrils, and she breathed deep. She wanted to make this moment last, to savour it in a way she had never done before. Her stomach had other ideas however. It let out a load growl of complaint, and she could wait no longer. Reaching down, she grabbed the bread hungrily up from the platter in front of her, and tore into it with great relish. The dough was thick with a light crunch to it, and the outer crust was as brittle as sliver thin glass. She chewed for a moment with a contented sigh before ripping off another chunk between her teeth. Her stomach murmured contentedly at her as she reached for the pitcher of chilled water to wash it down. She continued that way for a while longer, steadily working her way through the meal until, all of a sudden, she paused, a fork with a piece of fish dripping with its own oil half way to her lips.

Two weeks.

The thought came to her unbidden, but it was strong enough to make her stop her feasting. Had it really been so little time? Only a fortnight, if that, since she had left Delphi and headed south in the company of Themistocles and Nikias? Only a week since Nikias had...

She sniffed and dropped the fork to her plate, her appetite vanishing in an instant.

"Not hungry?"

She turned to see Themistocles approaching her from behind, a single bowl of broth held in his hand. His thick braids had been pulled back by a single copper clasp and all trace of his usual finery was gone, replaced by much simpler, more utilitarian gear.

"Not anymore," she said, pushing the plate of fish to one side.

"Bad thoughts?"

"The worst."

Themistocles nodded as he slid into the seat opposite her.

"I can understand that," he said, brandishing a wooden spoon at her as he spoke. "Still, you should finish what you start when the opportunity arises. Take it from a man who's lived through more than a couple of battles in his time. Who knows when you will get the chance to do so again."

With that he began to lay into his broth hungrily.

Adrasteia looked grudgingly at her food, then, with a sigh, she took up her fork and began to eat again.

"I guess you're right," she said, chewing on the fish. "Tell me though, do you ever plan to stop trying to teach me life lessons?"

Themistocles smiled at her.

"That sick of me are you?"

Adrasteia shook her head.

"Just wishing we could have a normal conversation for once is all."

"And if our relationship to one another were even remotely founded on normalcy, maybe we could."

Adrasteia nodded ruefully.

"Right again it seems," she said, shooting him a half-hearted smile as she did so. "Well, if shop talk it must be, then shop talk it is." She leaned forward over the table conspiratorially. "What do you think's going on? With Callisto I mean. That village that woman said she destroyed. She couldn't have done it, right? She's been with us the entire time."

Themistocles' expression darkened.

"I don't know," he said, and Adrasteia felt her stomach turn.

"If you don't have an answer, then this must be serious," she quipped.

"And worrying," Themistocles replied. "I honestly didn't expect this as a development, and it threatens our plans for moving forward." He let out a long weary exhale, and his shoulders slumped. "Then again, I suppose what with your visions and all this talk of cults, gods and Titans that we should be better preparing ourselves for the unexpected."

"My visions," Adrasteia muttered quietly, almost to herself, before looking up at Themistocles again. "What if Ithius is right? What if his whole crazy story about Cronus trying to break free is true? That might explain why whichever god it was that sent them to me did it in the first place, right? As a warning against what was coming?"

"Possibly," Themistocles nodded. Then he fell silent, his spoon resting on the rim of his bowl while his gaze fixed somewhere just behind her. "Well, well. Speak Hades' name and he shall appear."

Adrasteia frowned then twisted to see that Ithius himself had just entered the room, a plate of fish and bread in his hand. He glanced at the two of them watching him, then turned and proceeded to make his way over to a table located off to one side of the dining hall to eat in private.

"From the looks of him, I'd say his discussion with the Oracle to try and grant Callisto clemency and entry to the city didn't go so well." Themistocles said behind her.

Adrasteia shook her head at him.

"We haven't spoken to her yet," she said, glancing back at him and shrugging as she did so. "The timing didn't seem right."

Themistocles rubbed at his chin.

"So she's still out there then, and all alone too," he said thoughtfully.

"Not all alone," Adrasteia replied. "My brother's with her." Suddenly it dawned on her exactly what it was that Themistocles might be driving at. "Wait... you don't think that she..."

"Sneaked off to indulge herself in a little wanton murder and pillage?" Themistocles shrugged. "I doubt it, but there's always the possibility. Even if she had, it still wouldn't explain the old woman's story. The time lines don't match."

Adrasteia wanted to breathe a sigh of relief at that, but for some reason she couldn't. Her feelings about Callisto and her brother were tangled in knots, and she had no idea precisely how she was supposed to untangle them.

"I hope Athelis is okay," she said.

"He'll be fine," Themistocles said. "He's a survivor. It takes a lot to kill someone like that. Just ask Callisto."

Adrasteia gave a half amused snort, and lifted her fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache coming on. There was just so much to try and make sense of.

"Gods, when did things get so complicated," she muttered.

"They always have been," Themistocles said evenly. "You're just starting to take notice for the first time."

Adrasteia over at Ithius again. He was seated quietly by himself, chewing at a hunk of bread.

"Maybe we should talk to him?" she said. "Find out how he knows so much about what's going on. I guarantee you he has more answers than he's told us."

"I agree," Themistocles replied with an emphatic nod and small smile. "Maybe you should."

Adrasteia nodded.

"Okay then, so we talk to him. But how do we... wait a minute... what did you just say? 'I should talk to him? What about you?" She turned back to face him, just in time to see one of the temple servants approaching Themistocles from behind.

"Archon Themistocles?" the man said, his voice only slightly tremulous.

"Yes?" Themistocles said, never taking his steady gaze from Adrasteia.

"The horse you requested is ready my lord. The stables have it saddled and waiting for you."

"Thank you. Tell them I'll be along shortly. And have my travel bags brought down from my room. I'll be needing them." He gave a small wave of dismissal, and the servant dropped a respectful bow before turning and scurrying off.

"What is this!?" Adrasteia demanded hotly. "You're leaving!?"

"Yes."

"But now!? Right when we need you the most!?"

"Yes."

Adrasteia felt her teeth gritting together.

"And you didn't want to tell me that first?" she said, trying to hold on to her anger. "No 'sorry, but I've got to go'. Not even a 'hey thanks for all your help, but I got what I needed and now it's time for me to fly away home and leave the rest of you to twist in the wind'?"

"That's not-" Themistocles began, but she was not about to let him interrupt her.

"I guess I shouldn't really be surprised," she continued "I mean, its not like you owe us anything. Nikias only died helping us – you even – escape, but what does that matter? He was just another peon offered up for the glory of Athens, right?"

"I don't-"

"I trusted you!" she snapped a little too sharply drawing looks from other tables in the room, but she was long past caring.

"Adrasteia-"

"I need you!" she said, her voice a little lower this time as she felt her anger beginning to fade, only to be replaced by a deep sense of loss and betrayal. "Nikias is gone, and I thought you'd be here, and I don't think I can do this on my own."

Themistocles regarded her for a moment, then he pushed his empty broth bowl aside and leaned across the table at her. His expression was stern and no nonsense.

"Listen to me Adrasteia," he said. "We've come a long way, and been through a lot together. I've seen how tough you can be. How strong you have it in you to be, and that's precisely why you don't need me. The gods chose you for these visions, and there's got to be a reason for that. You just need to believe it yourself."

Adrasteia sniffed and stared down at the half-eaten fish lying on the plate in front of her.

"What about Delphi?" she said eventually.

"What about it?"

"This is a war," she said. "And I'm no general. No one here is except for you."

"And him." Themistocles nodded in the direction Ithius. "And Callisto if you can get her in here. There are plenty in the city right not that can do what I do. In Delphi I'm nothing special. Just a diplomat here on a mission. I have no power and no authority. In Athens I'm an Archon. I can to help this war in a single day there than I could here in a month spent preparing."

"And all from a hundred leagues away?" Adrasteia laughed bitterly. "The Spartans are practically at our doorstep. What good is you leaving to raise an army when Delphi could be in ashes by the time it gets here?"

A strange smile lit up Themistocles' face, and Adrasteia frowned in confusion. Why was he grinning all of a sudden? It was then that the answer hit her.

"There's already an army, isn't there?" she said.

Themistocles nodded.

"And it's already on its way here."

"But how..." Adrasteia began, then she paused as she realised she did not even need to ask the quesiton. "You knew, didn't you," she said slowly as still greater realisation dawned on her. "You knew all along that this coup in Sparta was going to lead to a war."

"No." Themistocles shook his head. "I didn't know. Nobody can know something like that, but I suspected. Athens and Sparta have long been rivals, and when your city's marching into the arena against what is possibly the strongest, largest, best trained fighting force in all of Greece, you learn not to wait for them to punch you. The moment we heard the rumours about Demosthenes, we voted for the formation of an army. The vote was overwhelmingly in favour of the motion. It was just starting to be mustered when I left the city. By now it's probably been formed and if it has, it will be marching for Delphi even as we speak. With them here, there's a chance that this city doesn't fall. Not a great chance, I'll grant you, but a chance nonetheless."

"But if they're on there way here already, why do you need to go and meet them?" Adrasteia said. "They'll come to you if you just stay here."

"Because they're an army in the field," Themistocles said matter-of-factly. "An army in the field needs a leader, and of all the men in Athens, I'm the one best qualified to be that leader."

"And what do you propose we do in the mean time?" Adrasteia shot back. "Cool our heels waiting for you? The Spartans are only a couple of days from the city at most. Your army could be only gods know how far away. We could all be dead and ash by the time you get back here."

"Except you won't," Themistocles said. "I've got faith that you're all strong enough to hold out as least as long as it takes for me to get back."

"That's a lot to put on faith alone. I know temple clergy who wouldn't risk so much."

"Maybe that's because they put their faith in the wrong things," Themistocles said with a sly half-smile.

Adrasteia fell silent. What exactly did he mean by that? Across from her, he dropped his spoon into the now empty broth bowl and pushed his seat back from the table so that he could stand. Adrasteia stood too, moving to stand in front of him as he rounded the table.

"I really can't stop you doing this, can I?"

"Not when you know that I'm right, no."

Adrasteia took a deep breath and nodded.

"I hate you when you start making sense."

Themistocles' smile widened.

"You must hate me a lot." Adrasteia was not sure what to say to that. "If you want my advice..." Themistocles continued, "...then I would continue with the current plan. Try to get Callisto into the city."

For a moment the brief image of Callisto and her shifting visage flashed in Adrasteia's memory and she felt her face sour.

"Are you sure?" she said. "We still don't know if she can be trusted."

"No we don't," he agreed. "But would you rather have someone like her running around out there getting up to gods only know what, or would you rather have her here, right under your nose where you can keep an eye on her? Besides, she might have some of the answers we're after, and the only to get them is if she's close by."

Adrasteia looked at Ithius.

"And what about him?"

"I leave that up to you," Themistocles said, following her gaze. "I'd be more inclined to trust him than Callisto, but ultimately the decision is yours. I won't be here, so it wouldn't be fair for me to make it for you."

Adrasteia took another deep breath.

"Alright," she said and stuck her hand out, not really sure how else she was supposed to say goodbye. "I'd say it was nice knowing you..."

"...but it really wasn't?" Themistocles offered, shaking her outstretched hand.

This time it was Adrasteia's turn to offer up a sly smile.

"It had its moments," she said. Themistocles returned the grin, then dropped a gracious bow that would not have been out of place if he were addressing a queen.

"I'm sure we shall see each other again," he said. "Until then though, I'll just say good luck."

"To you too," Adrasteia said. "I think we're all going to need it."

Themistocles nodded then turned and strode away, leaving her standing by the table alone. She watched him leave, drumming her fingers absently against the table's surface as she did so, her mind wandering over everything he had just said. Ithius. Could she trust him? Callisto seemed to, but then that was hardly a ringing endorsement. He had saved them on the road though, when Themistocles, Nikias, and herself had fallen into a Spartan ambush, and he had offered sanctuary and aid – however brief – when he had had no other reason to do so. He did not appear in her visions either, which presumably meant he was not a danger, or was it simply that he was not a significant one? She hated not knowing either way.

Then there was the matter of what he had told the Oracle the previous evening. She did not want to believe it. He did not even seem to want to believe it, but it did make a certain kind of twisted sense. She recalled her meeting Pelion in Sparta, and how cryptic he had been that day. It all was so much clearer now though, and terribly so to boot. She felt a chill of fear crawling up her spine. If Ithius was telling the truth, and Cronus really was trying to return to the world of the living, how could it be stopped? She knew comparatively little of Titanic lore, but what she did know was the the world had been wilder in their time, full of plenty, but also fiercer in its dangers. Lives back then had often been brutal and, more importantly, short, or so the temples to the Olympians said. It was the Gods that had brought the light of true civilisation with them when they had taken the throne of the world, and for the first time humans – aided by Prometheus – had risen to claim some degree of dominion over the earth. She found herself wondering just what the return of a Titan like Cronus might mean, and she did not like the direction her thoughts led her.

Shaking her head, she tried to return her thoughts to the here and now. Themistocles was gone, and while she felt she could trust the Oracle, it would do her little good to talk actually go to her. Her Mistress knew even less about what was going on than she did, and that brought her back around to Ithius again, the lone potential ally left to her. Sighing, she started across the room toward where he sat alone at another table, her mind finally made up. Themistocles had said the choice was hers, but in truth it was barely a choice at all.

"Morning," she said as cheerily as she could manage while she slid down onto the seat opposite him.

Ithius looked up at her. There was a tired look in his eyes and his brow was knotted with worry.

"You left off 'good'," he said.

"It didn't look like you were in that kind of mood," Adrasteia replied, and Ithius chuckled.

"I guess I'm not, no," he said and smiled.

Adrasteia returned the smile, immediately beginning to relax around the former Helot. He was quite different to Themistocles. Where the Athenian Archon was quick witted and sly, Ithius seemed open and straightforward.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, and Ithius shrugged.

"As well as can be expected, which is to say not that well at all. I... um... had a lot on my mind."

Adrasteia gave a dry laugh.

"Tell me about it."

Ithius frowned at her.

"More nightmares?"

She mentally cursed. She had forgotten she had let slip about the nightmares on the ship.

"Maybe," she said, cagily. Ithius just tilted an eyebrow at her.

"Still not going to be straight with me?"

Adrasteia snorted at him.

"You're one to talk," she said. "Or was all that stuff about Cronus yesterday not something you could have told me on the boat?"

"You never asked, and I didn't-" Ithius cut off sharply as two priests of the temple entered the hall carrying steaming bowls of broth. He leaned forward across the table at her. "I didn't know you were getting messages from the gods!"

"Who says that's what they are?"

Ithius fixed her with a steady stare.

"What do you see in them?" he said.

"That's none of your—"

"You see people right?" Ithius pressed, cutting her off before she could finish. "People and places. Maybe ones you know. Maybe ones you don't, but they come through clear as day anyway, yes?"

Adrasteia suddenly felt like she was going to start sweating.

"That doesn't mean-"

"Did you see Callisto in them?"

Adrasteia stopped mid protest, her eyes narrowing.

"How did you know?" she said softly.

"I knew an Oracle once," Ithius said, and there was a note of sadness to his tone that had not been there before. "I asked her once about what she would see. She told me that sometimes you see the ones you know, even love, but more often you see the ones you don't."

"That doesn't mean I saw Callisto."

"True," Ithius said. "But the way you've been treating her... You knew her before you ever laid eyes on her."

"Of course I did," Adrasteia protested again. "She's Callisto!"

Ithius shook his head.

"That's her reputation you're talking about," he said. "I'm talking about her. You knew her face."

Adrasteia felt her blood run cold. Was there anything Ithius did not know, or had not figured out?

"Well," he said eventually. "Am I right, or am I wrong?"

She stared at him intently, trying to read him the same way Themistocles had always seemed to be able to read her, but his face was as blank as slate. Could she really trust him? This was the moment, she realised. Choosing to walk over and talk to him had been easy, but this was the moment she actually had to make her choice and live with it.

"Alright," she said. "Yes. You're right. I saw her face, in my dreams..." she paused and swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, "but not just hers. I saw others too. Pelion, Demosthenes, and Callisto; I knew them all before I ever met them."

"And did you see anything else?"

Adrasteia took a deep breath.

"An army," she said. "Whether they were Spartans, or Followers or both, I don't know. There's another person too. I can't tell if it's a man or a woman, but they're there, wrapped in shadows that seem almost alive."

Ithius sat very still at that, and Adrasteia's eyes narrowed.

"You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

Ithius gave a slight nod.

"I do," he said quietly. "In Tryxis, Callisto was fighting... something like what you described. She called him Mortius. I think he might have been a man once, but the shadows were following him everywhere he went, like they were a part of him..." he paused then shrugged. "...or he was a part of them. I'm not really sure. Either way, Callisto said he was some big power within the Followers, but even she doesn't know much more than that."

Adrasteia felt her blood run cold as she listened to him, the room a around her suddenly seeming far less safe than it had done, with the shadows lurking all around it looming all that much larger in her mind.

"What you said on the ship," she said, keeping her voice low. "That Callisto is some kind of champion chosen by the gods... If that's true, do you suppose it's how she knows so much about what's going on?"

"I don't know if it's true," Ithius admitted. "Leonidas believed it was though. And he believed that Callisto was trying to help."

"So that's why you're helping her," Adrasteia said, finally feeling like she was beginning to understand him a little better. "You feel like you owe it to Leonidas."

"He was my closest friend," Ithius said, and Adrasteia could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke those words. "And maybe you're right. Maybe at first that was the only reason. The more time I spend with her though, the more I think I start to see in her what it was he was seeing all along."

"Even after what we heard yesterday?"

Ithius shot her a look.

"You know that can't be true," he said, only a hint of sharpness edging into his voice. "I've been with her since the forest camp, through the fire at Tryxis and then our training on the ship. She's barely been out of my sight the entire time. She couldn't have been the one who burned that village, and you know that as well as I do."

"But you have to admit it's a little weird, right?" Adrasteia pressed, not willing to give up so easily. "I mean, she's kind of distinctive. I think it would be hard to confuse her with someone else."

"If you want an explanation from me, I don't have one. There has to be one though and we just have to find it."

"And that's why I'm talking to you. We both know there's more to this than Demosthenes just wanting to get his war on."

"Cronus," Ithius nodded, at which Adasteia smiled.

"Exactly. There's something else from my dreams I didn't tell you about yet. Behind all those people – behind Callisto, Pelion, Demosthenes, this 'Mortius' character and the army marching with them, there's something else; some presence that I can't make out. Whatever it is though, it's powerful. When I try to look at it, I can't quite make it out. It slides around the edge of my vision like its not really there, but I know it is all the same." She held a hand to her stomach. "I feel it in here, right down in the pit of me, and it frightens me more than anything else in those dreams. Truth be told, I'm almost glad I can't see it. If I did..." she trailed off, looking at Ithius expectantly.

"You think it's him, don't you?" he said after a moment of contemplation.

"After what you said yesterday, it has to be doesn't it? If these nightmare of mine are messages from the gods themselves, wouldn't it make sense for them to be a warning about Cronus' return?"

Ithius watched her steadily for a while.

"If they're messages from the gods," he said eventually, " why would they send them to you? No offense, but you're an Oracle's handmaiden. Why not send them to the Oracle herself?"

Adrasteia gave a sigh of frustration.

"I don't know, but then if you're right, they also sent Callisto of all people to deal with the problem. The gods don't seem to be making terribly rational decisions of late."

Ithius gave a dry smile.

"You may just have a point there."

Adrasteia grinned back, finally beginning to feel like she was getting somewhere. After weeks of not knowing what was going on, it felt good to be pulling back the curtain like this.

"Okay then," she said, leaning forward again in a conspiratorial manner. "Supposing we're both right, and that Callisto and my visions are linked, and Cronus is trying to break free, what do we do next? How do we stop it?"

Ithius paused for a moment, glancing all about them and then turning back to face her. Without a word he reached inside the leather jerkin he was wearing over his shirt and produced a somewhat dog eared looking book. Laying his arm on the table to avoid any curious onlookers catching a glimpse of the thing, he laid it flat on the table and pushed it across to her. She slanted an eyebrow at him.

"Being a little overly cautious don't you think?" she said taking the book carefully from him.

"After having your best friend betrayed and finding out another man you've known since you were a child has been involved in a secret conspiracy to take control of a city and start a war, you begin to get a little paranoid," Ithius said simply.

Adrasteia gave him a sympathetic smile, that quickly turned to a frown as she started flipping through the book.

"What is this?"

"I'm not really sure. It seems to be a book on philosophy. There's a lot in it about the nature of the world and how the universe is divided into layers of reality. There's something about how some of those layers might be more or less substantial than the rest, and a lot about the power of will, but to be honest I couldn't really make much more sense of it than that."

"I meant this." Adrasteia turned the book so he could see where the pages had been torn out, the few tattered remnants left clinging to the spine soaked through with what appeared to be dried blood.

"That's the reason I'm showing it to you," Ithius said. "In Sparta there was a man, an Athenian historian called Monocles, who seemed have figured out a lot about what the Followers were up to. He was the reason I managed to find Callisto face down in the Pneuma that put her into the coma she only just recovered from."

"So now where is he?" Adrasteia asked. She had a feeling she already knew the answer.

"Dead," Ithius said, confirming her suspicions. "That book was found next to him in some stables. He'd been stabbed. The pages were missing even then."

"And you think they're the reason he was killed?"

Ithius nodded.

"He was the one who told me..." he trailed off, eyeing her carefully. "He was the one who told me that this war that Demosthenes is waging is all about Greeks killing Greeks. The more of us that die, the more pressure placed on the barrier that separates the worlds of the living and the dead. It's that same barrier that holds Cronus in Tartarus and the weaker it gets..."

"...the easier it becomes for him to return," Adrasteia finished for him.

"Exactly," Ithius nodded, pointing at the book. "Whoever killed Monocles knew that those pages had a way to stop them. Some process, or weakness, or whatever. They were important, and so the murderer destroyed them."

Adrasteia looked back down at the book. Was what Ithius was saying true? She supposed it could be. It made about as much sense as everything else that had happened recently, and whatever was in those pages had apparently already cost a man his life. Again she felt a shiver run up her spine

"Who else knows about this?" she asked, no longer certain she trusted anyone else in the hall.

"Just me and you," Ithius said. "And Callisto."

"Callisto again?" Adrasteia said, feeling her stomach tighten at the mention of the other woman's involvement. How was it she always seemed to be at the centre all that was horriiific?

"If anyone has a right to know, it's her," Ithius said. "She's the reason Monocles was even looking into this in the first place."

Adrasteia sighed.

"Alright then," she said as she tried to put her reservations about Callisto to one side for the time being. "Let's try and think this through rationally. We think the missing pages from this book have some kind of information on them that will help us deal with Cronus..." Ithius nodded as she spoke. "...but we don't have the pages..."

"Which means we need to find another copy of this book," Ithius said, sliding the damaged copy back across the table with his index finger to tuck it back into his jerkin.

"Well, I suppose we could try the city archives," Adrasteia said, mulling the problem over. "Delphi's an old city and there are probably all kinds of books hidden away in there. The only problem might be tracking it-"

Before she could finish there came shouts from the corridor outside the feast hall, along with the sounds of running feet. Across the table from her, Ithius shot her a confused look. Without a word, the two of them stood and made their way across the room to cluster by the large oaken doors that led to the rest of the temple. Someone had thrown one of them open, and in the corridor beyond, temple guards could be seen running for the main entrance. Away in the distance, the city's signal bell began to chime. It was not the usual sonorous gonging that signaled the arrival of a ship at the docks, or a merchant caravan, or even an envoy from another city. Instead, the air was filled with the mad and desperate clanging that forewarned of an approaching danger.

"What is it?" Ithius called the to running soldiers. "What's going on?"

"Is it Spartans?" Adrasteia added hurriedly. How could they have come so far so quickly? They should still have been days away.

"Not Spartans," one of the soldiers said, pausing briefly in his dash down the corridor. Adrasteia recognised him as Maretes from the night before. "We just got message from a runner. It's Captain Barabus. He's returning to the city."

"Already?" Adrasteia said, feeling perplexed. "But he only rode out to speak with the Followers this morning."

"Yeah, well, they found something out on the coast that was a little more important than a bunch of half crazed zealots living wild."

Adrasteia shot Ithius a worried look. Out on the coast...

"Like what?" Ithius said, taking a step forward. "What did they find."

"Callisto," Maretes answered. "They caught Callisto."


Bound at the wrists with feet aching from being dragged behind the Delphian soldiers' horses all morning, Callisto looked disheveled and dirt streaked as she approached the city gates. She paused for a moment to look up at the familiar city walls. This was where it had really begun, where Xena and herself had first truly matched wits against each other. Callisto was not really sure what nostalgia felt like, but she imagined it might feel something like she was feeling now.

She felt a tug on the rope tying her to the horse in front as the slack in it ended and it pulled taught sharply. Momentarily off balance, she stumbled forward, collapsing to her knees on the dirt trail that led into the city, much to the amusement of some of the soldiers around her. Glaring at them darkly, she regained her footing, straightened her back, marching through the gates with her chin raised as if she were a queen returning to her palace rather than a prisoner being marched to an uncertain fate.

As they passed through the gate, she was hardly surprised to be greeted by a small horde of jeering, angry townsfolk. Word of her capture had already spread like wildfire it seemed, and lines of people were beginning to snake off through the streets, their hatred only just held in check by a thin chain of soldiers obviously redirected from other posts at the last minute in order to help keep order. At the first sight of her striding along behind the horses as if she owned the city, their shouted taunts grew louder and more intense. Most were furious yells and curses, their number so many that they all began to blend into one another almost straight immediately. Every now and then though, between the angry braying of the masses, she would catch something else, a pitiable weeping carried on the wind and holding questions as to why. Why had she taken someone's husband? Why someone elses' daughter or son? The voices raised a churning, queasy sensation deep inside her and an image of a faceless legion with her darkly grinning doppleganger filled her mind.

Doing her best to ignore those few mournful voices and shake off the unpleasant sensations they conjured, she turned her attention to Athelis. Like her, he was bound at the wrists, and being dragged along behind a horse. Unlike her, he had not been able to keep pace with the brisk trot Barabus had ordered his men to move at, and now he was stumbling and skidding in the dirt, his wrists bloodied where his bindings had bitten into his wrists after being pulled taught numerous times whenever he had failed in his efforts to keep up.

"How're you holding up?" she called to him over the tumult of shouted insults.

Athelis shot her a dark glare.

"How come, whenever I follow you, we always seem to end up hip deep in trouble?" he called back.

Callisto flashed him a grin.

"Maybe I could say the same thing about you!" she shouted back playfully, only to catch the soldier whose horse she was tethered to glowering at her. He was a big man, powerfully built, although just the wrong side of portly to be considered truly muscular. His eyes were naturally narrow, and now that he was annoyed, he had a pronounced squint.

"No talking from the prisoners," he snapped and Callisto tilted her head in response, taking his measure in an instant.

"And you'll be stopping me how exactly?" she asked.

The man drew his horse up, his expression changing from one of annoyance to outright anger.

"I could tie your mouth shut for one," he said.

"And I could jam both your thumbs into your eyes when you try," Callisto replied cheerfully. "Care to come on over here so I can demonstrate?"

The big man's lip curled upward in a snarl and, releasing the reins, he shifted in his saddle, clearly about to take her up on her offer. Callisto waited patiently, flexing her fingers in anticipation, but before the man could dismount, Barabus appeared behind him to lay a hand upon his shoulder.

"Don't presume she's helpless just because her hands are bound," he said, watching her intently as he did so. "She's like a wild animal. All the more dangerous when cornered or captured."

Callisto pouted at him.

"Here to spoil my fun?" she said. Barabus shook his head.

"Here to escort you to your new abode," he replied, "Or perhahps it might be more accurate to say, return you to your old one. Look familiar?"

He gestured ahead of them, and Callisto realised the rest of the procession had halted too. They were all of them standing at the centre of a semi circle of jeering locals, and at the far end of the circle was a loomed a low, single story building with a thatched roof. It had a dour look to it, made up as it was of dark granite so old that mosses and lichens had crawled into the cracks between almost every stone. It's single main door was small and heavy looking, built from thick oak and with a narrow sliding hatch at roughly head height. There were few windows, but those there were, like the door, were small and barred with ancient, well wrought iron. It was the above ground entrance to the Delphi city dungeon, a place she remembered all too well.

"Ah, my summer home!" she announced, with a grin. "I do so hope you've kept it spic and span for me."

"You'll get to find out for yourself in just a moment," Barabus sneered, then, turning back to the rest of his men, he barked "DISMOUNT!"

The soldiers did as they were commanded. Several took charge of the horses while the rest fanned out to create rough but ready perimeter. Finally the few remaining men that included Barabus, and the two soldiers holding the ropes that bound Callisto and Athelis, started for the dungeon's main front entrance.

The jeering of the crowd worsened as she was led toward the building, and a few stones were even hurled, although none of them found their mark, and the guards quickly dealt with the throwers. Callisto simply did her best to appear unfazed by all that was happening around her, but in truth everything that was going on was a little too keen a reminder of her past. She had spent several months trapped inside, but when she had managed to break free, she had cut a violent swathe of blood and destruction across the surrounding lands until she had finally been stopped by Xena when the other woman had left her to die in quicksand down on the dunes near the coastal cave she and Athelis had spent the previous night camped out in. Since her return, she had never had to face the consequences of her past quite so directly as this. She had always thought she would be able to handle it, that it would not truly bother her.

Now she was not so sure.

Barabus reached the door ahead of the small procession and banged loudly on it. The small hatch slid open, revealing a sullen, pale faced man Callisto did not recognise on the other side. He and Barabus exchanged a few brief words, before he ducked out of sight with an accompanying jangle of keys. Less than a moment later she heard the sound of a bolt sliding back, followed by a loud creak as the door swung outward revealing the dark entry hall within.

Three soldiers stepped up behind Callisto and a fourth stepped up behind Athelis. Each of them had their swords drawn. The two men holding their bindings headed into the dungeon, tugging insistently at the ropes that held them. Athelis began to shuffle forward, but Callisto remained routed to the spot, causing Barabus to shoot her a caustic look.

"Well?" he demanded. "What are you waiting for? Get moving."

Another insistent tug at their bindings made Athelis glance at her questioningly. Callisto just shrugged then turned to face the baying, furious crowd. She smiled widely and lifted her bound wrists to wave at them as if they were adoring rabble rather than a hate filled mob. The shouted cries of bile and hate roared even louder but she took no notice. Instead, she span on her heel and set off toward the prison, the smile dying on her lips as she went.

"Come on then," she said as she strode past Barabus. "I'm just dying to see what you've done with the place."

Inside, the prison was much as Callisto remembered it; dark and damp, and filled with the smells of some fifty or more unwashed and prisoners. Barabus and his soldiers led them through a receiving chamber where a single guard was seated at a bench, the remains of his breakfast staining his shirt. The man blanched a little at the sight of her, and Callisto winked at him as she passed. Beyond the receiving room was the prison's main guard post, and beyond that a single square chamber with a heavy door in each wall.

Barabus turned and gestured, and the guard from earlier came hurrying forward, a loop of keys jangling in his hand as he moved to the door straight ahead of them. With loud clacking sound, the door was unlocked and swinging inward, revealing a long dark corridor, lined with damp and dingy cells, and lit only by the strips of light that were filtering in from the one or two cells that had narrow windows situated high on their rear walls. At the end of the corridor was a single door, made from solid oak, and heavily reinforced by thick black iron ribs and hinges. Callisto felt her gut turn cold at the sight of it.

There came another tug at her bindings, and she obligingly stepped into the corridor. The cells were empty in this part of the prison, and she wondered if any of them had been occupied since her last escape. Barabus' men wasted not time in dragging Athelis over to one of them. The guard with the keys opened the cell up, and the soldier watching over Athelis – a big man with a dour face – cut his bindings and then motioned toward the door with his head.

"Inside," he growled.

Athelis glared at the man, but obliged anyway, starting forward only to have the soldier trip him as he entered. He stumbled, only just managing to keep from falling, then span quickly, his eyes lighting up with fury, but before he could even take a step the cell door was swinging shut in his face.

"When I get out of here-" he began, only to be cut short when the soldier spat at his feet.

"You ain't getting out of here," the larger man grunted. "Not unless we drag you out on the end of a hang man's rope."

With that he turned and started back toward the crowd around Callisto, leaving Athelis to fume silently in his cell. Callisto narrowed her eyes as the soldier drew closer to her.

"You got some kind of a problem with me?" the big man rumbled, noticing her glare.

"Yes," she nodded. "Come a little closer and I'll show you exactly how much of one."

The man gave her a dirty look and was about to take a step forward, when Barabus intervened.

"At ease soldier," the captain said, stepping between the big man and Callisto. "Don't underestimate her just because she's bound. She'd turn you inside out if she ever got her hands on you."

"Why Captain," Callisto purred. "You do say the nicest things."

"And that's enough from you!" Barabus snarled as he rounded on her. "Speak out of turn again and I'll have you gagged." He gestured toward the reinforced door at the end of the corridor. "Now move."

Callisto's grin widened and she mimed stitching her lips shut as best she could manage with her wrists bound together. She sauntered past him, doing her best to make her compliance look as if it were entirely her choice. Despite her outward bravado, she could feel a queasiness in her stomach as she made her way down toward the door and the cell beyond. She had spent a long time trapped in that cell, and in any number of other dark, silent places. Each and every time, the only company she had had, had been her own hatred and rage, and similarly each and every time it had eaten away at her that little bit more, until eventually she had barely been able to remember how to feel anything but anger and bile. Needless to say, incarceration was not a state she handled well. Nevertheless, she would keep her back straight and her chin raised. She could not afford to appear any other way than in complete control.

The guard with the keys had already moved ahead of her, and by the time she reached the cell door, he had it open, revealing the dark granite walls of the cell beyond. It was a roughly ten foot square, almost completely featureless save for its damp, lichen covered walls and a quartet of thick mettle bolts embedded in he ground. Callisto remembered the chair that she and Athelis had burned for fuel the night before. Those bolts had secured it to the floor at the centre of the cell, and it had taken the brute strength of several of her men to rip it from them and carry it away when she and her war band had escaped the first time around. Memories of the beatings she had suffered while strapped to that chair intruded darkly on her thoughts. They had been often, but irregular, whenever the guards had some form of pent up frustration to unleash really, but no matter how frequently or how savage they had been, she had never once cried out. She had not given them the satisfaction then, and she would not give Barabus the satisfaction of seeing her discomfort now.

"What are you waiting for?" Barabus' voice jolted her from her reverie. "Get inside."

She cursed herself silently, realizing she had been standing almost dumbstruck in the doorway. She was about to step over the threshold when, from outside the corridor, she heard the sounds of raised voices.

"What on earth..." Barabus began, clearly noting it at the same time. Before he could completely turn around however, the source of the voices came to them. The door that led back into the rest of the prison hammered back on its hinges and Ithius came striding through. He had his sword with him, Callisto noted, strapped across his back, and his face was set in a tight, grim mask. Adrasteia was just behind him, hurrying to keep pace. She looked far more nervous than Ithius, and Callisto supposed she could hardly blame her. Behind her came on of Barabus' soldiers, a desperate panicked look on his face.

"I'm sorry sir!" he was shouting. "We tried to stop him. Really we did, but he just barged through us."

Barabus waved a hand at the soldier to be silent, then stepped forward to block Ithius' path. Ithius stopped in front of him and the two men glared at each other silently for a moment before Barabus finally spoke.

"What's the meaning of this intrusion Helot?" His voice was ice. "This is the business of Delphi. You have no reason to be here..."

At that, Ithius' gaze flicked past Barabus toward Callisto. The Delphian captain tracked it to her, then turned back to Ithius again.

"...or do you?" he finished questioningly. Ithius drew himself up to his full height.

"You have a friend of mine trussed up over there captain," he said, nodding toward Callisto. "I'm here to make sure that your city's rules are being follower and that she hasn't been harmed in any way."

"Our city," Barabus sneered. "Not yours. What would you know of Delphi's rules?"

"Only what I'm reliably informed of by one of your citizens."

Adrasteia shifted uncomfortably at that but said nothing, even when Barabus shot her an accusing look.

"I do not need to be reminded of my duties," Barabus said, turning his attention back to Ithius. "Take a look at you friend if you must. You'll see that she had not been harmed. Not yet at any rate."

Ithius did not even pause, striding around Barabus even before he had finished speaking, straight to Callisto's side.

"You're okay?" he said, eyeing the bindings around her wrists. "They didn't harm you at all did they?"

Callisto cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Really Ithius?" she said. "You honestly think any of them would be standing here now if they'd tried?"

Ithius smiled and nodded.

"I'm fine too, thanks for asking," Athelis chimed from his cell.

"More's the pity," Adrasteia shot back. "Another fine mess you've gotten yourself into!"

"Enough," Barabus barked. "All of you! And you!" He stalked angrily up to Ithius. "I had to see it with my own eyes. You really are a friend of this woman!?"

"In a manner of speaking," Ithius nodded. Barabus' jaw muscles tightened.

"What about you?" He looked back over his shoulder at Adrasteia. "Considering we caught your brother with her, I take it she's a friend of yours as well?"

Adrasteia swallowed nervously.

"Not a friend as such, but yes," she nodded. "I know her."

"If Callisto's your friend, I'd hate to see what you call an enemy," Barabus muttered darkly. "Guards!" he barked. "Arrest them both!"

"W... wait!" Adrasteia stammered. "What!?"

"You're associates of a wanted criminal," Barabus snapped back at her. "The wanted criminal as a matter of fact, and as Captain of the City Guard, my duty is to see that all threats to this city are dealt with."

"But we're no threat-" Adrasteia began to protest.

"That remains to be seen," Barabus shot back.

He made some kind of signal with his hand, and three more of his soldiers, including the large man that had spat at Athelis, that had slipped back into the corridor at his earlier shouted command began to advance on Adrasteia and Ithius. Adrasteia began to back down the corridor toward Ithius, her hands raised, palms empty as if to show she was not even armed. For his part, Ithius' hand was already at his sword hilt.

"This is unnacceptab-" he began.

"What is acceptable and what is not is not for you to decide." Barabus cut him off sharply. "The city may be indebted to you for helping our Oracle's handmaiden return to us, but that does not excuse consorting with its enemies. If you were the ones to bring herhere as well..." he thrust an accusing finger toward Callisto. "...then you'll be lucky if I don't have you sharing a noose with her come the day of her execution."

"You're not arresting us," Ithius said firmly, giving only a little ground before the advancing soldiers as they advanced. "Any of us." He nodded toward Callisto and Athelis. "I don't want to hurt any of you, but I will if I have to. We're all going to walk out of here, and you're going to let us..." He had not moved, but there was a threatening air about him now that had not been there before, and for the first time, Callisto thought she may have heard genuine anger in his voice.

"This isn't Sparta, Helot," Barabus replied, taking a step toward Ithius and reaching for his own sword where it hung at his hip. "You have no influence here. No allies either. There's no way out of this place but through me, and that isn't going to happen while I draw breath. Are you sure that is how you want this to be?"

"If that's how it has to be," Ithius replied. "There's too much at stake, and I owe too much to let you cage Callisto like this."

Adrasteia was almost at Callisto now, with Ithius between them both and the soldiers. She looked back over her shoulder at her.

"Do something," she mouthed silently. Callisto frowned.

"Like what?" she mouthed back

"Anything!" Was Adrasteia's silent reply.

Callisto rolled her eyes and sighed. Striding casually back down the corridor she stepped out in front of Ithius. Immediately, every drawn blade in the room was centred on her. She gave them all a mischievous grin.

"Easy boys," she said, holding up her hands and taking another step forward. "We wouldn't want anyone getting hurt now, would we?"

"Stay right where you are!" Barabus snapped at her, and she turned to face him. There was a quiver in his hands that suggested fear, but the look in his eyes was only one of fury.

"Oh do calm down Captain," she chided. "I'm not about to try and escape. Quite the opposite in fact." She looked back down the corridor at her erstwhile saviour. "I'm a big girl, Ithius. I don't need any great hero trying to ride in and save me, and to prove it..." She started back down the corridor and over to her cell, this time stepping neatly inside without any hesitation.

"You see?" she said, backing up to the centre of the small dark room, standing pretty much exactly where she had once been strapped down to the chair. "Not going anywhere, so there really is no need for everyone to be getting themselves killed now is there."

"Perhaps not killed," Barabus snarled, "But they still associated with you and lied about it. They don't walk free either."

"Actually captain, that's exactly what they are going to do."

All eyes turned at the sound of a new voice in the conversation. It was a man Callisto had never seen before, aged yet still vital, with grey hair turning to white and a neatly trimmed beard. He was dressed in the white and red robes of the Temple of Apollo and was flanked by two more Temple members similarly attired.

"Master Aegon," Barabus sounded surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Seeing to it that our Oracle's wishes are carried out," the man called Aegon said, stepping more fully into the corridor. "She received word that you had captured Callisto. Not an easy task as I'm sure you yourself would admit having failed at it several times before..." He let that comment hang in the air for a moment causing Barabus to almost visibly bristle.

"...Understandably, she was hesitant to believe it really true," Aegon continued. "So she dispatched me as her eyes and ears to ensure what we were hearing was actual fact and not just simple rumour. Imagine then my surprise to find that not only was it true and that Callisto had indeed been captured, but that she, of all people, should be the one person in the room when I walk in showing some actual restraint." His eyes narrowed as he looked about the room. Some of the soldiers fidgeted nervously under his gaze, but Barabus' only seemed to stiffen all the more.

"I was just doing my duty," he hissed.

Aegon took a step toward him.

"Arresting an Oracle's handmaiden and an one of the Temple's honoured guests is your duty now?"

"When she consorts with enemies of the city? Absolutely."

"None of which you have proven."

"She admitted as much herself."

Aegon paused, turning his attention to Adrasteia.

"Is this true?" he asked.

Adrasteia looked like she just wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole.

"It is," she managed to say eventually.

"Then the Oracle will have a lot to talk to you about," he said, lifting his gaze to Callisto. "All of you."

Barabus looked around confused.

"Wait... what?" he said as Aegon's two men swept past him and made there way toward the cell where Callisto was standing. They paused at the door and gestured for her to step outside again. Callisto looked between them, trying to size up if this were some kind of trick or not. In the end she decided to take her chances. After all, did she really have any other choice?

"If an Oracle wants to talk with me, then who am I to argue?" she grinned, sauntering back out as if she owned the place.

One of Aegon's men had already moved off, walking up to the prison guard holding the keys to the various cells and holding out his hand expectantly. The guard looked to Barabus, who only shook his head.

"You can't do this," he snarled at Aegon. "She's a criminal! A murderer! She made this city cower in fear for months! She doesn't deserve to be set free!"

"No she doesn't," Aegon agreed. "I'd say she probably deserves far worse. A good job then, that we aren't setting her free. The Oracle simply wishes to speak with her."

Barbabus shook his head again.

"No. This the most secure building in the city. Even more so than the Temple. If she's taken anywhere else then we run the risk of losing her. I won't release her, and you don't have the authority to make me."

"Perhaps I don't," Aegon admitted. "But the Oracle speaks with the voice of a God. Do you really want her to come down here and overrule you personally?"

Barabus gritted his teeth for a few moments then his shoulders slumped in surrender and he turned and nodded to the guard. The man sighed and passed the keys over to Aegon's follower, who in turn walked over to Athelis' cell and released him.

"I was getting bored in there anyway," Athelis said as he stepped back out into the corridor.

"Now," Aegon said, his voice cutting sharply through the tension in the air, "If everyone is ready, it's time we were making our move. The Oracle has been kept waiting quite long enough."

As the small band assembled, Callisto turned and grinned victoriously at Barabus.

"Going to miss me captain?" she teased.

"Not likely," he said, stepping into the formation just behind her. "Until I see you hang, you're not getting out of my sight."

"Oh I do so love a man with dedication," Callisto replied. Barabus only grunted in response.

As one, the group began to filter out of the prison, Aegon at its head, Adrasteia just behind him, with Callisto and Athelis, both still bound following her, and Barabus and a number of his guards behind them. They were clear of the prison and marching through the streets again when Ithius appeared at Callisto's side.

"I didn't get to say it before, but I'm glad you're alright," he said. Callisto frowned at him.

"You really were that worried about me, huh?"

Ithius shrugged.

"My people are safe now. Safer at any rate. I guess I needed to find something else to concern myself with."

"And that's why you saw fit to challenge a prison full of Delphi's best and brightest?" Callisto replied with a nasty grin. "Not what I'd call smart thinking."

"Maybe I wasn't thinking at all," he said, shooting her a wry smile. "Wonder where I could have picked that up from?"


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Another long wait for an update. Sorry it keeps taking so long. The prison scene here was for some reason incredibly difficult to crack, and it ended up resolving itself a little differently to what I had planned, but in the end this way might actually streamline a scene or two down the line. The main plot should start kicking into gear in a chapter or two, once the baggage of Callisto being in Delphi is dealt with (though not resolved - that would be too easy ;-)). As usual, for anyone following along at home, thank you for sticking with me through these. Your patience and support is always appreciated.