Shadows of Angmar

by Mike Taurguss

Xena/LOTR crossover! Strange painful dreams begin to plague Gabrielle. What could they mean? Are they memories, or nightmares? Then, an unearthly storm wisks them away, depositing them in a world they could never have imagined...

14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"It is within the horrors of conflict that the universe slows. Moments are as hours while days are as years. It is here that atrocities are known, experienced, recorded and the histories of conflict are composed…"

Shin-Chi-Mon

Concepts and Philosophies of War and Peace

Tyrion looked ahead at the simple, unassuming entrance carved into the face of the mountain before him.

"That's it?" he turned to Gimli, gesturing to the opening.

Gimli nodded. "The eastern gate was made small to prevent our enemies from entering en masse and overwhelming our people. It was only one small part of the defenses."

Gabrielle eyed the dark opening nervously. "I'm not sure if I like this idea," she said quietly.

"The way I see it," The dwarf said gruffly. "We have a week to intercept the enemy before he makes it to the pass, ten days at most. And the only way we can do that is to go through the mountain instead of toiling up after them!"

"I didn't say I didn't understand," Gabrielle replied. She looked up at Xena and then back at the ominous cave entrance. "It still doesn't sound like a good idea though."

Gimli grumbled something in her direction and then turned to Tyrion and Silas.

"Well?"

"And you're sure you know the way we're supposed to go?" Silas asked for the umpteenth time.

"Yes," Gimli rolled his eyes. "I know the way and several alternate routes if needs be, we're wasting time."

Xena noted the big man's apprehension. "What are you thinking, Silas?"

"He's thinking this is a lot like Tsavo," Tyrion answered grimly.

"That was four months underground," Silas nodded. "And if the booby traps didn't get you, the hold-outs sure tried."

"How are we on ammo?" Tyrion asked.

Silas unslung his pack and the ambient charger he had been lugging. The clips had all absorbed enough solar energy to be recharged. "We're good there, boss. Four mags each, plus the ones we got loaded. Plus another three each for the pistols."

Tyrion nodded. "Break the charger down and stow it. Divide the ammo and stow the cannon too."

Silas nodded and handed half of the clips to Tyrion. Then he broke the charger down and folded the components into his pack, slinging it back over his shoulders.

Tyrion handed each of them a set of the night goggles.

"Use these only when we absolutely must." He cautioned. "They're self charging, but it takes time and the power supplies have a finite capacity, got it?"

They each nodded as Tyrion handed the equipment to them. His eyes fell on the small pistol sticking out of her small travel bag.

"You might need that," he suggested. "Just make sure you know what you're pointing at before you pull the trigger, got it?"

Gabrielle nodded nervously as she realized that they were actually about to enter the place.

Tyrion looped the goggles around his head and replaced his hat.

"Lead the way, Mister Gimli," he gestured to the opening.

They stepped into the entrance and vanished into the mountain.

"This passage bears left for one hundred paces and then opens to the right into the chamber of Khazad Dum," Gimli whispered.

"Hundred paces?" Tyrion repeated. Gimli nodded.

Tyrion edged forward, signaling Silas to cover him.

Gabrielle stayed near the dwarf while Xena brought up the rear, he head occasionally turning to watch the way they had come.

Tyrion edged smoothly down the corridor, his eyes adjusting to the faint but steadily glowing red/orange light that he knew was fire. The air was filled with the thick thrumming of giant flames.

Behind him, he heard Silas whisper. "Yeah, just like Tsavo."

Tyrion reached the end of the corridor and dropped to one knee as he panned his weapon around the obstruction to scan the next chamber. He felt his lungs freeze in mid breath.

A moment later, Silas was above him, also looking past the archway leading from the corridor.

"Holy," he breathed.

"This is nothing like Tsavo," Tyrion whispered in awe.

Gimli, Gabrielle, and Xena soon reached them and were all similarly awestruck, with the exception of Gimli, who merely saw it as he remembered it.

"By the Gods," Xena whispered.

A short flight of steps down led to a landing, smoothly paved and expertly leveled. The chamber itself was massive, with tall stone pillars hewn from the living rock, rising into shadow to support a ceiling they could not see. Opposite the chamber, numerous carved stairways rose or descended through ornamented archways only to vanish into darkness a few feet beyond. Interspersed here and there against the opposite wall were other stairs, many of them fragmented and in ruins rising to other arches and sealed vaults, long forgotten.

Running across the length of the chamber was a wide gash in the rock that fell to a depth immeasurable. The flicker of orange fires could be seen dancing just below the edge of the charred shimmering surface of stone.

In the center of the expanse, they could see a pair of arched protuberances that may have at one time supported a narrow walkway across the conflagration.

The ends hung in ruins, and to either side of it, massive slabs of stone had been dropped to provide means of crossing the pit.

"There are the pillars that marked the bridge of Khazad-Dum," Gimli said in awe. "That there," he indicated the near side extension. "Is where Gandalf faced the Barlog and fell."

"Faced a what?" Silas asked.

Tyrion shook his hand dismissively. "Where too?"

"Across the pit and through the second arch there," Gimli indicated an ornate stair rising one story to a dark archway.

Tyrion nodded, his eyes scanning the chamber and noting the numerous pieces of large stone debris, obviously from portions of the above superstructure.

"Si," he said, lowering his weapon and dropping his pack. "Suppressors on all weapons."

Silas nodded and did the same. The two men removed and quickly attached a long cylindrical accessory to the ends of the MP-9 and P-7 barrels.

Tyrion then reattached his pack and looked back at Gabrielle. "You, do not fire your weapon unless you have absolutely no choice, got it?"

Gabrielle nodded, though her frown of confusion was plain.

"Any loud noise might bring the ceiling down on our heads," Xena said, looking aloft into the shadows.

"Let's get moving," Gimli said impatiently. He pushed forward, but Tyrion held him back. "Easy now. Let's just make sure first, okay?"

He drew his binoculars and set the spectrum for infra red, then he began slowly to scan the darkness surrounding them.

Silas did the same.

"Anything?" Tyrion asked as he searched the flickering images for movement.

"Nothing," Silas replied. Then he froze. "Whoa, hang on a sec. I got four on a ledge, one o'clock high."

Tyrion panned in the indicated direction and found the four crouching shapes high above. The way they paced or moved was all Tyrion needed to see in order to know these beings were not even remotely human. In the amorphous shapes on his display he could make out gaunt limbs, long pointed ears, and bow legs. They crouched at the edge of the ledge, occasionally looking back and forth over the chamber below.

"We have four on a ledge, three levels up," Tyrion whispered. "They're watching the bridges. We go across and they'll either pick us off or sound an alert."

Gimli squinted looking up in the general direction as Silas and Tyrion. "I see nothing."

"Trust me, they're there." Tyrion replied.

Silas handed his spotter glasses to the dwarf who tentatively held them up to his eyes and started when he saw the four figures.

"What are they doing?" Xena asked.

"Just watching," Tyrion replied.

"Then they must not be able to see us from there," Xena smiled. "If we keep close to this side of the chamber and work our way around that way," she pointed off to the left along the chamber. "We should be able to move away from them and find another place to cross. Then we hug cover over there till we reach the archway."

"I like it," Silas nodded."

"Works for me," Tyrion agreed.

"Me too," Gabrielle added.

They edged from the archway and moved along the far side of the chamber, hugging the wall and keeping as low and silent as possible.

Suddenly, Silas's hand rose in the signal for stop. He looked back at them and raised a finger towards his face. He wore the opaque night vision goggles. His finger tapped the goggles twice and then pointed into the darkness. The others quietly donned theirs and the world emerged in shimmering shades of green and gray.

They all looked further into the darkness and saw the cluster of more creatures all lounging or milling quietly near the corner of the chamber.

As Gabrielle watch, Tyrion held two hands out, miming the grip on his rifle, then he put a hand beneath his chin and finally, he crossed his two index fingers together. Silas nodded.

Tyrion took his weapon and raised it, pointing in to the darkness. He held up three fingers and then silently counted down.

"Wait!" Xena's eyes went wide. "They'll hear!"

The two weapons spat, barely a sound louder than a whisper. Each fired a short burst and then nothing. Xena heard the clatter of something falling to the stone floor in the darkness ahead.

Tyrion and Silas rose to a crouch and edged forward quickly.

The others followed and Xena saw the two men checking each body as the neared, occasionally firing a shot into one of the corpses.

In the garish green illumination of the goggles, the creatures were horribly visible. Their faces were grotesque facades of elvish features, the ears long and pointed, and rotting, pointed teeth line the mouths. They wore patchwork armor plates over their bodies, bound by sinew and leather from things that no one in the party wanted to consider.

Gabrielle brought a hand up to her mouth and nose when the stench of the creatures reached her.

"Oh gods," she whispered. "That's just," she suppressed a cough.

"Flanking party," Tyrion nodded.

"I bet my left nut that there's a similar group on the other side of the chamber." Silas agreed. "They wait for a ruckus and then charge in from the sides. Sneaky bastards."

Tyrion looked along the wall and found what he needed. A simple rope bridge, made from leather and sinew stretched across the gorge to the opposite side of the chamber.

"Hope no one is afraid of heights," Tyrion smiled.

They all followed his gaze.

"There's no way I can traverse that!" Gimli hissed. "My weight will snap that rope like thread!"

"Well, you might have to lighten up a little," Tyrion replied. Even as he said it, he knew that the same applied for himself and definitely for Silas. He looked back at the remaining two. Xena might be light enough to cross that narrow bridge, but…

"Oh Gabby," Tyrion whispered lightly. "Need a favor."

"You want me to what?" Gabrielle hissed.

Silas removed two coils of nylcord from his pack.

"We need to you go across that and attach these to something strong enough to hold our walking anchor over there." Tyrion replied. "Don't worry. We'll hold onto this end here, so if something happens, we can pull you back up."

"That's comforting," Gabrielle quipped.

"Wait a second," Xena said as she began unfastening the heavier pieces of her armor. "Gabrielle may be lighter, but I have a bit more experience with things like this."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He looked across the yawning chasm and then tossed her the end of the nylcord.

"Okay, Xe," he shrugged. "Thrill me."

Xena drew her chakram out and tied the end of the nylcord to the weapon.

"Ah, ah," Tyrion took hold of her wrist. "That bad boy makes noise and that's the last thing we need."

Xena looked at him icily.

"Big cave, hundreds of nasties," Tyrion shook his head. "Can't risk it, otherwise I would have used a bolt projectile from our gear."

She considered that for a moment. Yes, Tyrion would undoubtedly have something that could easily bridge this sixty foot chasm.

Her eyes fell on the rotting sinew bridge that the goblins had stretched across the space and she considered it carefully. A smile began pulling at her lips.

"Uh oh," Gabrielle whispered. "I know that look."

Xena took several steps back and then bolted full speed towards the edge. Her foot landed on the edge and she launched herself through the air. The leap took her half way across the gap. She felt her foot contact the rough rope, felt it flex and gather tension like a bow string. In the back of her mind she prayed she had not misjudged the strength of the thing, then she felt the spring return and she used it to launch herself the rest of the way across.

She didn't quite make it, and her body struck the far end of the pit with bone jarring force. The chakram came down upon the stone floor and bit, giving her a handhold even as the impact sent the wind from her lungs in a burst of pain.

She clawed the rest of the way up onto the shelf and rolled onto her back, gasping quietly.

After a few moments she smiled. "Made it," she whispered over the com.

"Well, I'm thrilled and impressed," Tyrion hissed angrily. "Now, don't ever do anything that fucking crazy ever again!"

In short order they had the main line attached and drawn up taught, then Tyrion wrapped a second line about his waist and a sling with a pulley wheel hooked to their makeshift bridge. A Second line was attached to the pulley itself.

He hauled himself quickly across the pit, popped the small hook on his belt and dropped lightly to the floor.

The second line was attached to the pulley and then Tyrion called over to Silas. "Okay, bring it back."

The sling was drawn quickly back to the opposite side.

A few moments later Silas called to him. "Okay, next one's on."

Tyrion took up the slack and smoothly drew on the line. A few moments later, a very nervous looking Gabrielle came into view, her fingers wrapped about the sling in a white knuckled grip.

Tyrion caught her and released the clasp on the sling, lowering her to the floor.

"How was your flight?" he asked.

She looked at him with a mixture of anxiety and outright hostility.

Next came a large heavy bundle of Gimli's armor and weapons, followed by the dwarf himself, wearing only a tunic, breaches and boots, and grumbling about being forced to strip down to 'next to nothing'.

Next came Tyrion and Silas's gear, and finally, the lumbering shape of Silas could be seen, hauling itself hand over hand to their side of the pit.

The sling was disassembled and stowed and the two soldiers slung their packs as Gimli redressed himself as quietly as possible.

"Piece of cake," Silas grinned.

The whole party moved to a place on the edge of the hall, behind a large pile of broken stone.

Through the goggles, they could make out the cluster of figures on the ledge above.

"Okay, Gimli," Tyrion peered out at the myriad of stair ways and arches on the far face of the hall. "Which one do we want again?"

Gimli crouched beside Tyrion holding a pair of their goggles in his hand as he adjusted his iron helm. He held the goggles to his face and took in a sharp, surprised breath.

"Amazing," he whispered.

"Which entrance?" Tyrion pressed.

"There," Gimli indicated a wide avenue between two narrow ascending stairs. "That will take us to the Halls of Durin II, and then down to the lower workings."

Tyrion looked back up at the contingent above and then the necessary archway. "You think those boys can see that far in this light?"

Gimli grunted quietly. "Hard to say. These goblins have long dwelt here, they mayhap be able to pierce this gloom."

"One way to find out, then." Tyrion rose to a crouch. "Sit tight till I get in position, then as I call you, come to me using the same route, same pauses, and for Sagan's sake, keep quiet."

Everyone nodded.

Tyrion moved like an extension of shadow, from outcropping, to doorpost, to column, always keeping out of sight of the watchers above. At each pause, he would look up at the shelf and observe the contingent for a moment, assuring himself that he had not been observed.

He reached the indicated archway unseen and crouched there against the edge of the far stairs, his rifle trained on the figures above.

Once he was settled he gazed through the scope and watched the goblins above, milling about, completely unaware of his presence.

His finger touched the send switch on his com.

"Gimli," he whispered.

Silas reached over and tapped Gimli on the shoulder. "You're up. Stay low and slow."

Gimli drew his axe and crouched low as he followed Tyrion's path with fewer pauses, freezing only once when his axe blade accidentally contacted a piece of protruding stone.

Instantly he was behind cover, gazing through the miraculous goggles at Tyrion's glaring face.

Tyrion held his hand up in a staying gesture and then looked back up at the goblins.

Several of the creatures were standing at the edge, gazing down into the chamber, searching for the source of the strange errant sound.

"Stay low," Tyrion whispered as quietly as he dared.

The moments stretched out with agonizing deliberation as Tyrion watched the figures above. Finally, one by one, they began to lose interest and, began returning to their other activities.

"Wait for it," Tyrion whispered to himself quietly. He looked back over to where Gimli was concealing himself, and saw the dwarf peering back at him.

Gimli gave an impatient gesture, and Tyrion held his hand firmly still, commanding him to stay.

Finally, the last of the goblins turned away from the edge of their shelf.

Tyrion motioned for Gimli to continue. The dwarf finished his circuit and came to a stop behind Tyrion, puffing gently.

"Took them long enough," he grumbled.

Tyrion looked back at the dwarf critically and held one finger to his lips, commanding silence. Then he tapped his com again.

"Gabrielle," he whispered.

The young bard emerged from concealment and began moving from point to point, with much more care than her predecessor. Tyrion's eyebrow rose when he noticed that she held her pistol in her hands, just as Felix had instructed her, and checked the shelf at each point, making sure she hadn't been spied from the shelf above. The only thing wrong was that the bard had her finger resting upon the trigger. A misstep might result in the weapon discharging, and then the game would be up.

"Finger off the trigger, Gabs," he whispered when she made her next pause.

She held the weapon up for him to see, her finger now resting along the barrel of the gun. Tyrion nodded and she resumed her journey.

She reached them and moved past Gimli a bit further into the tunnel. Soon Xena and Silas were beside them.

Tyrion looked at Gimli, pointed at him and then made a walking motion with two fingers of his hand before pointing down the tunnel.

"Why can't," Gimli whispered. Tyrion's hand clamped over his mouth and he shook his head emphatically, pointing up and behind them.

He removed his hand and repeated the gestures.

Gimli gave him a critical look and, with a soft grunt of disapproval, he turned and led them deeper into the tunnel.

Felix looked up through the thick intertwining branches and watched the stars twinkle in the heavens. The fire crackled nearby and the smells of pine, carbon and earth enfolded him as he lay on the grass.

He let his head roll to the left and looked across the open flames to where Mavon lay, slumbering. His MP9 lying across his chest and his hand on the grip.

Further away sat Legolas, his legs crossed comfortably beneath him as he stared into the dancing flames.

"Don't you ever sleep?" Felix asked. He nodded to the form of the elf girl who lay beneath a blanket, slumbering.

Legolas's eyes flicked in his direction and he smiled slightly.

"Only in times of great weariness," he replied, looking over at the sleeping woman. "And even then, not for long."

Felix noted the look of longing and concern on Legolas's face.

"You know," he began carefully. "Being imprisoned for that long, enduring that kind of endless torture, she may never come back? She may not remember who she was before."

His voice trailed off as he saw the knowing look in Legolas's eyes.

"Sorry," Felix offered.

"What did she do to your friend?" Legolas asked.

Felix sat himself up and took a drink from his cantina. "It's complicated."

"Your friends refer to you as 'Doc'," Legolas said evenly. "Tyrion said that the name is short for doctor or surgeon and that the name indicates a healer. Is this correct?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Felix nodded. "More like the resident genius than anything though."

"I too am also trained as a healer," Legolas continued. "That should make your explanation easier, should it not?"

Felix smiled wryly. "You wish."

Legolas raised a single eyebrow. It was instantly apparent that the elf would not let the subject rest.

Felix thought for a moment. "Okay. Nicolla was a telepath, or teller for short, she had the ability to go into another person's mind, communicate silently, and numerous other things, with me?"

Legolas nodded.

"Being able to heal the mind, just like the body, means that you also learn how to harm it. Opposite cause, opposite effect."

"I understand," Legolas nodded again. "You are saying that Nicolla could also attack a person's mind, just as easily as she could heal it?"

Felix nodded. "It isn't a physical attack, you understand. More like being overwhelmed by bad dreams or visions. It's a power that very few can master, but when they do…" His voice dropped off at the myriad of inferences.

"And apparently, your friend there has the same latent talent." He gestured to the sleeping woman in order to cover the fact that he had, once again, forgotten her name.

He paused suddenly. It was so uncharacteristic of him to forget a name, no matter how unique or exotic. He was used to memorizing whole texts with a casual glance. He could still recall the names of every member of every unit he had served with and the locations or campaigns they had been in. He knew every page of every text he had ever studied in mathematics, science, medical studies, and engineering, so why in the twin moons was he having trouble recalling this one person's name?

"Master Felix?" Legolas asked.

Something was tickling the back of his mind as he considered.

He got to his feet.

"Give me a second," Felix said quietly. "I want to check something out. I'll be right back."

"Or course," Legolas nodded.

Felix grabbed his rifle and moved away from the fire and out of sight, making sure to interpose some trees between himself and Celebrian.

"Celebrian!" Felix stopped short. "That's her name!" He grinned and looked back towards the glow of the fire suspiciously.

He did a quick circuit of the area so as to return to the camp from a different location and headed back. As soon as he was within eyesight of the elf woman, her name slipped from his memory as gently as a leaf blowing on the wind. If he had not been alert to the possibility, the lapse may have gone unnoticed.

As it was, alert to the possibility, Felix caught it easily. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Tricky, little girl," he thought. "Very tricky."

"All well, Master Felix?" Legolas asked.

"Yeah," Felix settled back down and sighed. "Just a little jumpy, I suppose."

He took a drink from his cantina again. "Anyway, as I was saying. Nicolla learned how to heal and attack the mind of another," He gestured to the elf woman again. "Just as your friend also can."

It hurt to discuss the demise of a friend, but at the same time, it was necessary. "She overloaded Nicolla's mind, and almost did the same to Gabrielle." He gestured to the fire.

"Think of it like boiling an egg in hot water. Nicolla's skull was the egg. The resulting overload burst blood vessels and capillaries which is why she and Gabrielle got the nose bleeds."

"She might have done the same to young Gabrielle?" Legolas asked in shock.

"She started to, yeah," Felix nodded. "Then when she got distracted and Gabs hit her, the hold was broken and the cooking stopped."

"I am sorry," Legolas said sincerely. "I do not know why," His voice faltered.

"Legolas," Felix nodded. "She's been cooped up in a cell, getting all manner of bad things done to her for several hundred of my lifetimes. She's probably going to be a bit unstable."

"And what of Nicolla?" Legolas asked.

"She's dead Legs," Felix said simply. "But here, I suppose that means she'll get another chance."

Felix pulled out a nutrient bar and munched on it. "Whoever or whatever kept her alive," he gestured to Legolas's companion. "Did so by reconstituting her physical body whenever they needed to. It's the same thing that happened to me, so I think it's safe to assume the same thing will happen to Nicky as well. We just need to figure out where and when she'll be reconstituted."

Legolas studied Felix for a moment and frowned. "Felix, do you know where and when?"

Felix smiled and shook his head. "Nope. But if I know Nicky, and if there's a way, she'll find it." There was something smug in that last statement that Legolas surmised there was more to it than just hopeful optimism.

"Felix?" He asked.

Felix smiled and gave him a wink as he finished his nutrient bar. He stretched back out on the ground and put an arm behind his head comfortably.

"You understand that I will not be able to leave my lady behind when we reach Lothlorien," Legolas said suddenly. "I must stay with her."

Felix looked over and frowned.

"I can, of course, help direct you back to your friends," Legolas added quickly. "But the lady will require my care for some time."

"I hear you," Felix nodded. "Well, wake us up in about six hours and we'll start the next leg, okay?"

Legolas nodded.

They had been moving in these dark, dank tunnels for what had seemed like a lifetime now. Gabrielle's head turned as she struggled to pierce the inky gloom before her. She wished the miraculous goggles would recharge more quickly.

Ahead, she could see the light on Tyrion's weapon moving along the floor before them. Behind her, she heard the steady reassuring thump of Silas's boots.

At first, their progress had been good. They had left the chamber and its watchful occupants far behind and gone steadily down deeper into the mountain along well built paths.

Countless arched corridors opened on either side of the tunnel, and Gabrielle had frightening visions of shadowy fingers reaching out to grasp them and drown them in the darkness every time they passed one. Cold, damp air caressed her face at each intersection. The only sound was the sounds of their own feet and the occasional grunt or stifled cough.

"Ssst," Tyrion hissed quietly, once again bringing them to a halt. Before them was yet another crevice, sinking into the depths. They had been forced to traverse many of them lately as the path they traveled became more and more neglected.

The path itself was wide enough for four to walk abreast. Despite this, they had marched single file, the better to protect everyone in the party.

Now they all stood close to the edge watching as Tyrion panned his light across the darkness to the far edge of the depression.

The opposite side was ten feet away, and continued beyond the range of the feeble light.

From the depths below came the sound of gurgling water.

"Here we go again," Silas grumbled.

One by one, they each leapt the gap, landing sturdy on the opposite side.

"Every time we do that," Gabrielle gasped, looking back at the drop. "I'm so afraid I'm going to miss the other side."

Xena smiled and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

They traversed nearly a dozen such obstacles before they reached a section that was undamaged.

"How far down are we?" Xena asked quietly.

Tyrion stopped and removed his data pad, holding it up and out from his body. He entered a series of commands and then held still.

The readout flashed once and printed a response on the screen.

"More than a mile," he said, sliding the data pad back into its place.

"How do you know that?" Xena replied.

"Cause the max range on those things, solo, is a mile," Silas answered.

"How much further down do we have to go?" Gabrielle asked.

"Another four leagues along this path and then we should reach the Chamber of Barathrur," Gimli said. "From there, we can turn more northerly, pass through the old Mithril workings, and begin to ascend the steps of Durin's Towers."

He looked at the inquisitive faces. "From that point, we begin climbing up towards the Red Horn Gates and the pass of Caradrass."

"Sounds simple to me," Silas grumbled.

"How long?" Tyrion asked.

"If we set a good pace," The dwarf considered. "Four days, perhaps five."

"It feels like we've been in here that long already," Gabrielle complained.

"The Pass can take as long as a fortnight to negotiate, even in the best of times," Gimli went on. "Even if we encounter obstacles, we should still reach the summit long before the enemy does."

A little less than an hour later, they stood before yet another obstacle.

"You know," Tyrion growled. "If it wasn't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all."

The light panned across the floor and down through the clear water filling the tunnel. As the beam continued forward they could see the path descending through a nearby arch before vanishing beneath the glassy surface.

"Well, that does it," Gabrielle sighed.

"What's our best alternate route, Gimli?" Xena asked.

The dwarf considered for a moment.

"We should go back to the chamber of Zanzarbul and we can take the easterly passage, it should climb up, avoiding the damage caused by Gandalf's battle in the Chamber of Mazarbul, I think."

"All the way back to that main chamber?" Gabrielle moaned. The journey had taken a short eternity. "That means jumping back across all those pitfalls again."

"I fear it does," Gimli nodded.

Tyrion sighed. "Well, if we got to, we got to." He adjusted his pack and turned back. "Let's go people. Time is money."

Silas looked down at the water, then back up at the ceiling and back the way they had come. "You all ain't paying me enough for this shit," he grumbled as he followed the others.

They had barely gone a mile, and had only traversed the first two pitfalls when the passage ahead erupted with the screeching echoes of harsh voices.

"What the hell?" Silas cried in alarm, his weapon snapping up to ready.

"Back!" Tyrion hissed. "Get back down that passage!"

They turned and went as fast as they could safely go until they had jumped the crevices a second time.

Passages on either side echoed with cries and the stomping sound of hundreds of iron shod feet.

The cacophony died away somewhat as they passed the final set of cross tunnels before Silas's booted feet splashed in the water.

"Damn!" He cursed, stepping back out quickly. "That's cold!"

"Si!" Tyrion hissed. He was kneeling against the corridor, his weapon pointed back down the passage.

The big man stepped quickly across from Tyrion and assumed a similar position.

"How many rebreathers have we got?" Tyrion asked quickly as the thunder of drums and booted feet approached the nearest tunnel.

"Five or six," Silas replied nervously. Then he looked across at Tyrion and back at the others as the realization set in. "Ah man, you ain't?"

Tyrion only shrugged.

"Man, those re-brees are only good for about an hour!" Silas said. "How do you know we'll find a breathable patch before they give out?"

"You got a better idea?" Tyrion shot back. "Break them out!"

Silas lowered his weapon and shrugged out of his pack, rummaging around until he found the wrapped bundle of small boxes.

He ripped the seal free and tossed one to each of the others.

"Hold these in your teeth and breathe through your mouth," he said quickly.

Gimli looked at the small cylindrical object skeptically. "This will let me breathe?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Underwater?" Gimli looked back at the flooded passage.

"Get them moving, Si!" Tyrion ordered. "Company's coming!"

Xena looked down at the rebreather and remembered a time when she had been required to use one in the past, during her rescue from the clutches of her former ally, Alsydious. She had used it when Silas and Mavon had secreted from his keep during Tyrion's first visit to her world.

She handed the next one to Gabrielle and showed her how to hold it in her mouth. The young bard was obviously terrified.

"Gimli, you take lead," Tyrion instructed. "Followed by Silas, Xena, Gabs, and then me covering our six. Go!"

The dwarf stepped into the passage, going forward and down, ignoring the biting cold of the water. He turned back and found Silas right behind him.

Silas pulled his own rebreather from his mouth and nodded. "This water ain't getting no warmer man."

Xena hissed between her teeth as the frigid water came in touch with her flesh. She did her best to ignore the stinging cold and pressed forward.

Gabrielle's eye went wide and her jaw dropped. She would have cried out in shock had the cold water not snatched her breath away. She looked back and saw Tyrion backing into the water behind her. Ahead of her, Xena's head vanished beneath the surface.

The water struck her belly, soaking into her garments and she froze in place against her will.

Tyrion bumped into her and spun around.

"Go!" he hissed.

It took a little while for her to get enough breath to speak, and event hen, her voice was no more than a sharp whisper.

"I can't!" She looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock.

A flood of dark shapes burst from the nearby side passage, turning up the way the party had come.

Tyrion turned back and aimed his weapon back down the passage.

Suddenly, there was a different cry among the jostling horde and several heavily clad and armed figures charged down towards them with weapons raised.

Tyrion fired and cut them down. The attackers fell, but the damage was done. The entire column stopped dead, wheeled around and charged.

He set his rebreather to his teeth, turned, and grabbed Gabrielle beneath the arm, dragging her down into the water. Gabrielle has just enough wit left to put the strange object in her mouth before the knives of ice covered her head.

The world became silent. Behind her, she could hear the deep thrumming of weapons hacking at the water and the muffled cries of their frustrated enemy.

Tyrion let his rifle fall back against his vest and drew out his combat knife.

Beyond him, she could see the roiling, bubbling water where the orcs were trying to pursue them.

Tyrion's hand gently pushed her further back down the flooded passage, further away from the rabid horde.

Suddenly, a figure swam before them, a wicked knife in its inhuman teeth. It snatched the weapon and stabbed at Tyrion.

The two figures grappled, thrashing about in the water, their weapons slashing and stabbing in a deliberate, horrible pantomime.

In a move that seemed too quick for someone hindered by water, Tyrion wrapped his arm up and around the orc, clutching his forearm about the throat while his free hand trapped the claw wielding the knife.

The orc struggled, but the need for air had already been nearing and in a few moments, the thrashing of the creature subsided and its pale eyes went dim.

Tyrion let the corpse float to the floor of the tunnel. He stooped and retrieved the creatures' knife, handing it to Gabrielle.

She took the weapon and looked back at the entrance.

There were more deep rumbles of splashes, which meant more orcs diving into the water after them.

Tyrion tapped her on the shoulder and then pointed down the hall urgently. She turned and fled, half walking, half swimming as swiftly as the water would allow.

Several of the orcs swam out of the shadows but were forced to turn away without engaging them.

From that point on, the underground world of the dwarves was eerily silent around them. The five figures moved slowly through the cold water. From each of the narrow cylindrical rebreathers, occasional steams of bubbles exited the ends as the travelers exhaled. Silas pulled an object from one of his pockets and there was a brilliant explosion of light as the flare ignited. Bubbles of flash boiled water and gasses roiled, hissing furiously toward the ceiling.

The submerged corridor burst into existence. The water was crystal clear and the flares light extended into the distance burning the shadows away. The tunnel extended arrow straight until it vanished in the distant shadows.

Gimli looked up at him, his eyes wide and Silas nodded, pointing down the tunnel, indicting that the dwarf should lead on.

Xena looked around her in wonder at the craftsmanship of the stonework. The corridor was worked and faced in smooth gray stone that went deeper into the mountain. Despite being submerged, the stones showed no signs of excessive wear. It may have been completed yesterday for all she could tell. She caught herself before trying to speak a word of appreciation as some of the water seeped in between her lips. She looked back at the others and saw the same wide eyed appreciation in Gabrielle's eyes despite the fact that she was shivering in the frigid water.

Behind her, Tyrion was motioning forward, indicating that they should proceed.

They continued, occasionally seeing the silver flash of fish, frightened by their encroaching light, as the flipped and darted away from them.

They continued on, deeper and deeper into the very bowels of the mountain. The flare finally sputtered and died. Another one burst into existence a few moments later.

Gabrielle began counting in her mind, attempting to keep the time they spent underwater by the life of those wonderful burning lights. When the second one died, Gabrielle calculated that the flares lasted about ten minutes each.

What was it that Silas had said about the instrument in her mouth? The miraculous device would last for about an hour before it would give out.

One hour? After that, what would happen? Would the water come flooding into her lungs and drown her? Would it simply stop, forcing her to decide whether or not she should suffocate herself until unconsciousness and then drown?

She looked back up the tunnel and Tyrion read the sudden understanding in her eyes. He shook his head and pointed down their path. No matter what, they had to continue.

Three more flares ignited and died as they traveled. The tunnel, like before had many side passages that opened as they traveled. At each one, Gimli would stop, consider them in turn, and then gesture for them to maintain their course.

That was the sixth flare. Gabrielle looked back at Tyrion and saw the grim determination in his dark eyes. He apparently also understood that they were running out of time.

In the light of the flare, they eventually saw the end of the corridor ahead. An ornate stone arch framed the entrance to a larger chamber beyond.

They passed through the archway and into a wide, sprawling chamber. The flare's light expanded outward in a brilliant sphere of illumination.

Thick ancient square columns rose into the shadows. As their eyes traveled upward they saw the undeniable silver mirror of the waters surface, some twenty feet above.

Gabrielle grabbed Tyrion's arm, pointing to the rippling surface.

He nodded and reached out, tapping Silas's arm. They looked about and eventually, through a complex and quick exchange of hand signals, agreed to divert to a wide stairway that rose to the waters surface on the western side of the room. Silas patted Gimli and pointed in the direction they needed to go. They all stumbled up the steps towards the surface.

The world exploded into sound around them as they emerged from the water, gasping and heaving in the cold, moist air.

Gabrielle dropped to her hands and knees, crawling the remainder of the way out of the water. Her throat was dry in spite of the water that had surrounded them. She stifled a cough as she reached a wide platform. Every muscle in her body was trembling.

"I'll never be warm again," she gasped.

Xena stepped over to her and sat down beside her, wrapping her arms around the shivering bard.

"What are you doing?" Gabrielle asked.

"Trying to warm you up before you freeze," Xena replied. Gabrielle noted that she also was shivering violently. "And myself as well," Xena finished with a smile.

The warrior princess was pale and her lips were almost blue. Gabrielle assumed that she was in a similar state.

"Easy ladies," Silas said quietly. He ripped open a small thin square package, revealing a silvery white patch of cloth about the size of his hand. He peeled a piece off one side and reached down, setting it against Xena's chest, just above her bustier. Then he repeated the process with a second package and knelt before Gabrielle.

"Open your chest plate, Lil Bit," he instructed.

With numb fingers, Gabrielle did as instructed, pulling one side of the Rohirrim armor aside. Silas reached down into her shirt and she felt the patch adhere to her own cold flesh.

"What?" she began, almost recoiling from his intrusive touch. Then she felt warmth begin to emanate from the object, spreading across her chest and slowly working out towards her freezing limbs. She was still shivering with cold, but the sensation was warming slowly.

Xena looked up at Silas in wonder. The big man winked and grinned, slapping another patch onto his own chest, beneath his shirt.

Looking past the big man, Xena saw Tyrion helping Gimli with another of the patches before affixing one to his own body.

"Just let them work, ladies," Tyrion said with a wry smile. He hugged his knees to his chest and tried to force his own limbs from shaking. "It'll take about twenty minutes to thaw us out, then we can start moving about again."

Xena frowned at him questioningly.

"Thermal patches," Tyrion explained. "They help trap heat within your clothing and keep you warm. Granted, they aren't useful underwater, but now?" He shrugged.

Silas wrung out a blanket and handed it to Xena.

"It's a little damp, but wrap this around you two and they'll work better for you." He instructed, setting the blanket across Xena and Gabrielle's shoulders. "Just sit tight for a spell."

The flare flickered and perished and this time, they could smell the acrid scent of smoke as the darkness fell around them again.

"Um, Tyrion?" Gabrielle whispered nervously.

"One second," Tyrion replied. They heard him rummaging around in his pack and then pale yellow illumination began to grow from a small lamp he set on the stone before him.

It continued to grow until it reached a volume of luminescence that was nearly as bright as the brilliant white flare.

"Okay," Tyrion continued, digging through his pack for more implements. "Gimli, where do you think we are?"

When the dwarf failed to respond, they all turned to look at him. He sat on the floor, his eyes locked ahead in wide wonder, his body motionless.

"Gimli?" Xena asked.

Tyrion reached over and put a hand on the armored shoulder.

Gimli started, looking back at them.

"Gimli?" Tyrion asked. "What's up?"

Slowly, his expression a mixture of wonder and haunted amazement, he looked back up at a long series of thickly graven characters that followed the top of a wide ornate archway, and in a soft, reverent, trembling voice he recited.

"The Halls of Durin."

When he looked back at the others, he was met with only curious looks.

"No one has seen this place in over three thousand years," Gimli said in a tight whisper. "We must go this way."

"Is that a way up to where we need to be?" Tyrion asked but Gimli ignored him, stumbling to his feet and moving quickly towards the open arch.

"Hey!" Tyrion hissed.

Gimli turned and his gaze darkened slightly.

"We must go this way!" Gimli repeated more forcefully.

"What's going on, man?" Silas asked.

Gimli's mouth worked as he tried to form words, but in the end, he simply pulled out the night vision goggles Tyrion had given him and turned, vanishing down the passage.

"Gimli!" Xena whispered as loudly as she dared. The four of them got to their feet and went after him, Tyrion scooping up the compact lamp as he did so.

The passage continued forward for several yards, with more openings on either side, all ornately and beautifully covered in ways that set it apart from the regular tunnels they had traveled so far. Obviously, this was a much more affluent section of the underground kingdom.

They found Gimli standing at the opposite end of the corridor. He quickly pulled the goggles from his face as the brilliance of the lamp overwhelmed the sensitive equipment.

"What are you," Tyrion began, but he stopped when the light entered this new cavern.

The chamber was richly and intricately cut into the living stone, ordained with amazingly detailed carvings. At the opposite end, on a raised platform, they all saw the carved throne. On either side of it, a long low bench extended from the cut arm rests, obviously seating for others of prominence.

"The Halls of Durin," Gimli breathed.

"I'll be damned," Silas whispered.

Gimli looked from left to right as if searching for something.

He turned and headed towards a side chamber.

"Xena," Gabrielle said in awe. "If you say this is nice, I will hit you."

Xena smiled and patted Gabrielle's shoulder as she shrugged the blanket off and let it wrap fully around Gabrielle.

"Okay," Tyrion handed the small lamp to Xena and drew up his rifle, activating the light under the barrel. He nodded to Silas. "Secure the area and meet back here in five minutes."

Silas nodded, drawing his own weapon.

The party split. Gabrielle and Xena moved across the chamber towards the throne, while Silas and Tyrion moved off to the right to explore a second arch.

A sharp, staccato tapping began in the direction Gimli had departed and suddenly, there was a soft orange explosion of flame, growing to a strong flickering light.

Gimli held his kindled torch aloft and spied what he needed in a nearby alcove.

Though the oil soaked fuel in the ancient torches had long ago rotted away to nothing, the torches themselves were perfectly functional. Quickly, he began repacking the bowels with material from his own tinderbox and soon he was walking quickly around the hall, lighting torches that had not been lit for millennia.

The Hall of Durin began to emerge from the shadows in its entire graven splendor.

Silas let a low whistle escape his lips as he studied the polished columns rising up into the shadows. The walls of the hall were carved with the images of ancient trees and birds in a beautifully detailed mural of life on the surface above. Mingled within the ornate décor was the twinkle of countless precious stones.

In the curved ceilings, diamonds twinkled, mimicking the stars of the night sky. On either side of the entrance arch, a large fountain extended from the carved wall. They were empty and silent, but beautifully wrought.

"God damn," Tyrion whispered appreciatively.

Xena and Gabrielle paused in their explorations, gazing about in wonder as Gimli walked his circuit of the hall, placing more torches.

"I fear these will not last long," he said regretfully. "I have no real fuel for the fires, but I wish to see the hall of my fathers as it was of old, even if only for a short while."

Even as he set the last torch alight, one of the first ones opposite the hall flickered and began to fade.

Gabrielle stepped out into the hall, her eyes gazing up at the stone in absolute awe.

She turned slowly as her gaze followed the ornate patterns in the stone. She could almost imagine the place filled with Gimli's people, going about daily business, or children playing in the vast echoing halls. From beyond the entry arch, she imagined the mingled sounds of daily life moving back and forth along the submerged corridor. Voices laughed or cursed in the mingled chorus of life in any metropolis, and she could hear them echoing down the long corridor of time.

It was a moment before she returned to the present, and only then did she feel the tears running down her cheeks.

"Gabrielle?" Xena asked. "What is it?"

Gabrielle looked back to where Tyrion and Silas stood near the other side of the chamber, their figures fading as the torches waned.

The graven animals in the stone slowly faded back into the shadows.

Near the raised platform with the carved throne, Gimli stood reverently, his hands clasped at his waist, head bowed.

"Gods," Gabrielle sniffed. "Its just so…the waste of it all!"

She turned and gestured to the fading beauty. "Look at this Xena!" she said with a sudden vehemence. "Just stand back and look!"

All eyes turned towards her as she stepped away and spread her arms wide, indicating the entire room.

There was a muffled thud and suddenly, the air above them exploded into brilliant white light.

Everyone started, turning towards the noise, only to find Silas lowering his rifle.

High above, in the rough stone, a single flare burned like a star. The carved reliefs returned in brilliant clarity.

Gimli stepped over and put a hand on Gabrielle's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," Gabrielle said suddenly.

Gimli nodded, patting her shoulder. "I thank you, lassie."

He turned and looked back at the throne of his ancestors and heaved a great sigh.

"Very well," he nodded, as if concluding some internal debate. He looked about the room. Then he stepped up the long steps to the throne and gazed beyond.

"Here would be the armories of Durin," he said. Then he nodded and when he looked back, his somber expression was replaced by something more animated. "Follow me! We may find things we can use here!"

The party followed him up the steps and found another wide arch behind the throne, descending into darkness.

"What kinds of things?" Tyrion asked when they rejoined their guide.

"The forges of my forefathers were the greatest in the world," Gimli explained. "Many races turned to us for the making of their weapons and armor. Though I hate to admit it, only the elves rivaled us in the craft of weapons making."

"Gimli," Xena said gently. "Anything left down here will have wasted away to nothing by now."

Gimli looked back at her and grinned, tapping the side of his nose. Then he looked over at Silas. "Have you any more of those torches?"

Silas nodded. "I got six more in this pack," he gestured to the pouch hanging from his belt. "And twelve more in another pack."

"Good." Gimli turned back and moved down the corridor into the gloom.

The passage descended for a short time, with the traditional side passages opening at regular intervals, and then began to rise sharply, giving way to a long straight stairway that went up to a single landing with an old rotten door held together by corroded bands of iron.

Gimli read the runes above the door and nodded. "Here is the Armory of Durin."

He stepped forward and placed his hands against the rotting wood, testing it carefully.

The spongy outer layer flaked away easily, but beneath that the material was strong and dry.

"Well," Said Xena, stepping up beside him. "That's interesting."

Gimli put more of his weight against the door and finally gave it a sharp shove. The door rattled against its restraints but did not open.

"Okay," Silas asked, looking at the door critically. "What now? Blow it?"

"No way," Tyrion shook his head. "I don't care how good Gimli's folks were at building, that concussion could collapse the passage."

"Stand back," Gimli instructed. He drew his axe.

The others retreated several paces, giving the stout dwarf room to work. He looked up and down the door for a moment and then, with a growl, he swung his axe.

The door shuddered at the impact. The stroke echoed down the corridor with a loud boom.

Another stroke, and another. Gimli swung his axe in a smooth, powerful rhythm, the blade of his weapon striking nearly the same precise location just to the side of the keyhole until, finally, a crunching noise was heard and then the door gave way, swinging open with a loud groan of stiff hinges.

They all came forward into the next chamber and stopped, letting their eyes adjust to the gloom.

"Now might be a good time, master Silas," Gimli suggested.

The room exploded into view again as the flare burst to life.

As they all blinked away the glare, a large chamber materialized from the beyond the glare. The room shimmered with the mirror refraction of countless metals and gems, all wrought into garments, weapons, shield, helm, and countless other accoutrements.

"Son of a bitch," Tyrion whispered in amazement. The articles in the chamber might have been made only yesterday. Countless coats of mail hung on wooden hangers and racks of spears lined one of the rear walls. Shields rested on old wooden stands and swords hung in racks. In a corner, on a long series of shelves, gold and silver helms gleamed in the harsh light, and all around them, the room was stocked with countless priceless gemstones and blocks of unwrought gold and silver.

Gimli looked about the room with a surprisingly pragmatic expression.

"Do not burden yourself with treasures. Take only what you need."

The world around him was no more than a reddish orange fog. He floated upon it, like a fragment of air.

Felix turned his head, his eyes scanning the swirling fog around him. His ears rang with a soft whispering of voices – thousands of voices. The voices seemed to chant, whispering components of endlessly complex equations, all softly commanding him to participate. Adding his mind to the chorus, he knew, would improve the solving of these equations. The variables were parts of what kept this world viable. It was a requisite portion of the life cycle. He was required to aid in the maintaining of that environment. He could not refuse.

Even as those thoughts and desires gently tickled his mind, another part of him, the fiery, independent portion of his persona, rebelled.

This place was a machine. Its computational powers were massive, but it was a machine none the less. Granted, it was a machine that ran off the minds of living, sentient creatures. It absorbed the logical aspects of people, discarding the emotional, the irrational, anything it considered non essential.

A gestalt!

"No!" Felix cried. He would not be drawn into that state again! His mind was his and his alone.

The red mist swirled around him angrily, drawing him deeper into this horrifying infinity.

Felix shut his eyes, his hands clamped over his ears. He cursed and screamed his defiance as he felt the gentle logical prodding.

He fought to clear his mind, building a protective mental barrier between himself and the universe around him. The voices began to fade.

Then he had the sensation of another, singular entity near him. It was the nebulous feeling a person gets when they sense someone observing them. He raised his head, his eyes scanning the ether around him.

"Where are you?" he whispered, his eyes narrowing as he looked all around him in the mist.

The sensation slipped away, and then came back, just beyond the realm of his perception, like a child, flitting from hiding place to hiding place in an attempt to escape detection.

He caught sight of a shape, a deeper shadow among the mist, as it darted past him.

He gave chase, sprinting after the errant figure, heedless of any potential threat.

The evasive shade stopped suddenly. Felix did the same, standing no more than a few feet from it as it shifted and writhed in the haze.

"Who are you?" Felix asked, stepping forward, his hand extending towards the narrow shoulder.

The figure turned and faced him. He immediately recognized the piercing emerald gaze.

Before he could react, it seems that she flew past him, or through him, her voice echoing in the void even as it retreated.

"Felix!"

"Nicky?" Felix's head lifted from the ground and he looked about, bleary eyed. The sky above was just beginning to pale with the coming of daylight. Beside him, the fire had died away to embers. Opposite the smoldering fire, Mavon lay asleep, snoring quietly.

"Master Felix?"

He looked over to where Legolas reclined with his back against the trunk of a large tree.

Felix sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah?"

When he looked up, he saw the elf woman sitting near Legolas, her deep blue eyes staring at him with unusual intensity, even for an elf. He forced himself to look at Legolas instead.

"What's up?"

Legolas looked down at the elf woman and smiled but Felix thought the expression seemed slightly forced.

"Wait here," he said gently. "I need to speak with my fiend privately."

She looked at him quickly and after a few moments, she nodded.

Legolas rose to his feet and gestured to the nearby shadows.

"Yeah, sure," Felix got to his feet and followed the elf into the trees.

"Something concerns me," Legolas said simply, once the two of them were out of earshot.

"Do tell?" Felix looked back towards the glow of the fire.

Legolas's lips were moving as he tried to frame his words. "We elves have a way," he began. "A way that connects us, in mind, you understand?"

"Better than you think," Felix grinned. "I can assume that there is some form of mental or telepathic link between you and your people?"

Legolas frowned.

"You can sense each other," Felix explained. "Maybe hear each others thoughts?"

The elf breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes. It is how we learned to speak to the trees and the rocks, to sense the world around us."

"I understand." Felix nodded. "So what's up?"

"Even as she regains some strength," Legolas looked back towards the camp. "I still cannot feel the Lady Celebrian as I should. Her mind remains closed to me."

"Well," Felix shrugged. "Given what she's been through, I doubt very much if she would want to just open up right away, you know? She's going to have issues for a while, I would think."

"You do not understand," Legolas's voice dropped. "It is part of the way we heal. Our relation to one another aids in our healing. She is deliberately closed to me in a way that is unlike anything I have ever experienced. There are times when I must struggle just to recall her name!"

Felix caught his breath. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but the perception of the elf was too acute.

"You have experienced something similar?" he inquired.

Felix looked back towards the fire and nodded. "As long as I'm out of her line of sight, I can remember Celebrian's name, no problem. As soon as she can lay eyes on me, though," he raised a hand. "Poof, it's gone. It took a few days before I began to catch it."

"We should reach Calas Galathon before sunset tomorrow. This close to her home, she should be healing more, not less," Legolas said. "Yet she does not. It is as if she does not wish to heal."

"Or doesn't want to go where we're heading," Felix added. He looked back and a thought struck him. "You think her function was to split the team up?"

"What is there to gain by that?" Legolas asked.

"Making it easier to eliminate us for one," Felix replied. His expression became more internal. "We pack a pretty big punch with our stuff. The easiest way to get rid of us would be to split us up and reduce our effectiveness." His eyes focused inward in thought. "Maybe that's what he's doing?"

"Who?" Legolas asked.

"Hm?" Felix snapped out of his momentary reverie. "Oh, just something we had to deal with right after we got to Rohan."

He looked back at the camp and smiled. "Well, at least I'm not the only one who noticed it."

"If you suspected, why did you not say anything to me?" Legolas asked.

"Because I'm not familiar with your species," he caught himself. "Your people, I mean. For all I knew, she was behaving normally for one of you."

Felix considered for a moment more. "At least we both know she isn't on the up and up," he concluded. "We'll need to be careful,"

His thought was interrupted by a cry from Mavon. The two sprinted back and found him leaning against a nearby tree. Blood was covering his left shoulder and chest.

The cause of the wound was easy to find. Celebrian stood opposite the fire, Mavon's combat knife in her grasp. The blade and her fingers were covered in blood.

Felix's weapon snapped up to ready, aimed at the woman's chest. "Drop it!" he ordered.

"Psycho bitch tried to knife me!" Mavon said angrily. He fumbled for his pistol and raised it.

Legolas went to Mavon's side and examined the wound. Then he looked at Celebrian angrily.

"Why?" he demanded. "These men saved your life!"

She stepped back a pace and stood up tall and straight, any hint of infirmity gone. Her eyes were clear, blue and deadly.

"Drop it, now!" Felix ordered.

Legolas's expression melted into one of horror as a dreadful realization set in.

"In place of the Dark Lord, you would set up a queen," he said, as if reciting verse. "And she shall not be evil, but beautiful and dreadful as the morning and the night. Stronger than the foundations of the earth, more powerful than the sea."

Celebrian locked her icy gaze on his and a cruel smile touched her lips.

"All shall love me and despair." She finished in a soft, husky voice.

In the distance, Felix heard the sound of many approaching feet. It was an all too familiar scuttling sound.

Legolas drew his bow and aimed at Celebrian's chest, his eyes filled with tears.

"We got to go," Felix said quickly. He stepped to Mavon's side and draped an arm over his shoulder. "Legs, we got to go, now!"

The first of the massive spiders crashed through the branches into view. Legolas adjusted his aim and released, sending his arrow into the center of the cluster of eyes. The beast careened to one side and thrashed on the earth, barely missing the figure of Celebrian as she stood, statuesque and beautiful, glaring at him.

"Go! Go! Go!" Felix cried as he and Mavon stumbled away.

The three of them tore through the woods as fast as they could, but there was no sign of pursuit.

Their retreat had taken them south and west for a few miles before they finally stopped.

"What the hell was that?" Mavon asked, puffing painfully as he hugged his injured arm to his chest.

Felix was looking back along their path, his breath heaving. "No idea. But I'll bet you ten creds and my left nut that they aren't just milling around back there."

He quickly wrapped a regen pack around Mavon's wound, stemming the blood, and did a quick inspection.

"We'll need to take care of this better when we get clear," Felix commented, his eyes darting back and forth between the injury and the expected pursuit.

"How's that?" He asked as he finished his ministrations.

"Perfect! Beautiful! Wonderful!" Mavon replied shortly "We going?"

"Nag, nag, nag," Felix muttered.

He helped the wounded man to his feet and the three of them continued through the thinning trees.

"We must get to the river!" Legolas said as they ran. "My people left many boats along the western bank! If we can reach it, we may elude our pursuers!"

"How far?" Mavon asked.

"At least two days run," Legolas replied.

Both men cursed aloud.

They came to a small rise and paused.

"You want us to run our asses off for two days straight?" Felix heaved a deep breath.

Somewhere behind them, something crashed.

"Unless you wish to stand here?" Legolas asked without sarcasm. If Felix had said he would rather dig in and defend that spot, there was no question that the elf would do so.

The two soldiers looked back towards the ominous crashing noises of their pursuit.

"Legolas," Felix turned back earnestly. "I would love a two day run. Two day run sounds great!"

"Definitely," Mavon nodded. "Two days, no problem! Can we make it three?"

A hint of a smile touched the elf's features and he nodded. "This way." He gestured towards the west and then took off at a brisk jog.

"Two fucking days," Mavon muttered as they moved to follow him.

They stayed on the edge of Lothlorien, just within the boundary of the trees as they ran east towards the river. The boughs protected them from the sun and wind while the sturdy, thick trunks slowed the advance of their enemies. Despite occasional stops to catch their breath and tend to Mavon's injury, the three of them increased the distance between themselves and the enemy.

On the morning of the third day, they reached the bank of a broad river. Legolas looked southward and then turned, leading them along the bank into the abandoned kingdom of the elves.

The trees were taller here than along the edge of the forest to the north and sheathed in a soft white skin of bark that shone golden red in the light of the rising sun. The high branches unfolded above them into boughs of deep green leaves.

Birds and other animals sang from the heights as they woke with the sun.

"Here!" Legolas called as he rushed ahead.

They came forward and discovered a small, shallow bay. The nearby clearing held an old table and chairs and numerous boats rested along the bank, dirty and a little neglected, but otherwise serviceable.

Felix looked back the way they had come and thought furiously.

"How much time we got?" he asked the elf.

Legolas paused and listened carefully.

A matter of an hour, no more," he nodded.

They made ready one of the boats and then Felix stepped over and turned a second one over, pushing it to the water.

"What's the plan?" Mavon asked as he and Legolas gave him a confused look.

"Pick me up on the other side," Felix instructed. He grabbed three discarded paddles, throwing two of them into the second boat and then pushed off the bank. In a matter of minutes, he had paddled to the opposite side, hauled the sturdy craft up and tossed the three paddles to the ground.

Mavon and Legolas paddled out towards him as he turned and ran a short ways up the bank and vanished over a small rise.

Then he came back towards them, walking backwards in his own footsteps all the way back to the boat. He jumped to a second place on the opposite side of the conveyance and repeated the process.

By the time Legolas and Mavon were almost to his side of the river, he was walking backwards towards them again.

"A false path," Legolas nodded in approval.

Felix backed all the way into the water before turning and hauling himself into the boat.

"Let's get some distance," he huffed as he took up a paddle.

Legolas began turning the boat south, with the current.

"No," Felix said quickly. "We need to do what they don't expect."

He turned and pointed back north. "The only way we can link back up with the chief is if we go that way."

"It will be difficult," Legolas cautioned. "The current is swift in some areas. We may have to abandon the boat sooner by going north."

"We don't need to paddle all the way, we just need to get around the Critter Club," He nodded north. "A few miles are all we would need to circle around her and head back."

Legolas nodded again. "Very well."

They turned the boat north, against the current and paddled away from the kingdom of the elves.

"How do we know it worked?" Mavon asked as he looked back over his shoulder.

"If we don't see them swarming either side of the river after us," Felix replied. "Then it worked."

Mavon nodded, looking back south again. Then he leaned forward.

"Good plan," he said sarcastically.

"You got a better one?" Felix smiled as he helped push them against the current.

The forced their way north for several hours and saw no sign of pursuit. The land became flat prairie once again, and the mountains rose tot heir left, white capped and ominous.

By the end of the second day, they had seen no sign of pursuit. The plains were peacefully quiet.

They abandoned the boat on the western bank and Felix tended to Mavon's injury properly. Within an hour, the young soldiers arm was nearly good as new, the wound healed and the tissues beneath completely repaired.

"No more bitching," Felix said as he closed up his medic kit. He looked at Legolas who stood, gazing southward.

"All clear?" Felix asked.

"Yes," Legolas replied quietly.

Frowning, Felix stood and looked back southward. "What is it?"

He noticed a soft gray shadow rising in the distance, almost too faint to make out.

Legolas had tears in his eyes. "She has set Lothlorien to the flame," he whispered. "She is burning the forest."

Felix looked at the elf, then back at the distant haze, miles away, and then back at the elf again.

"You can see that?" he asked. "From here?"

Legolas nodded and turned his gaze away. "We must continue. You wished to rejoin your companions. We must make for the Dimril Dale and the steps that lead up to Carahdras." He pointed between two red tipped mountains. "The pass is there. We can make it in three days if we set a determined pace."

"How long to cross it?" Mavon asked.

"Three days to the Dimril Stair, another day to reach the top of the pass and a fifth to reach the vale on the western face, if all goes well."

Mavon winced. "Oh, you had to say that last part, didn't you?"

Legolas looked back at the two men, confused.

"If all goes well," Felix repeated. He smiled. "By saying that, you just assured that nothing will."

Felix, Mavon, and Legolas headed towards the three peaks that covered the ancient dwarf kingdom, sometimes walking - sometimes jogging - going as long as their strength would carry them.

On the evening of the third day, they came to a halt on a small flat rise looking out over the plains.

They set up a small camp and looked out west towards the Misty Mountains.

On the distant plains ahead, they could just make out a small shadow.

Felix dug in his pack for his spotters glasses while Legolas fixed his eyes on the anomaly.

"What the hell is that?" Mavon asked.

Felix stepped next to him and raised the glasses, zooming in on the amorphous shape.

"Fuck me," he murmured. He handed the glasses to Mavon.

"It is as if every dark pit of the world has opened," Legolas said in horror. "I see great mountain trolls, goblins, orcs, wargs," he pointed to a gray shadow among the clouds. "Even the bats of the mountains approach, shielding the creatures of darkness from the sunlight."

"That's why she didn't bother running us down," Felix sighed. "She knew the rest of them were coming."

Felix pulled his data pad out and began typing furiously on it.

Mavon lowered the glasses and looked down. "What are you doing?"

"Improvising," Felix replied. He finished his adjustments and then turned the instrument over, snapping the rear plat e off, exposing the circuitry beneath.

Felix attached a lead from his com to the back of the data pad and then flipped the pad over, entering in command codes with frenzied energy.

Mavon frowned over him as he looked from his partner to the shadow of figures on the distant horizon and back.

"Hey," he commented. "Those are sealed circuits. You aren't supposed to be able to alter them?"

Felix smiled as his fingers danced across the sensor pad. "Since when have I ever done anything I was supposed to?"

He finished his manipulation and then keyed an activation icon.

"Recon, Seven, Three, calling Minas Tirith," he said clearly. He paused and waited before repeating the call.

Legolas frowned. "What are you doing?"

"I left a data pad with Merry so he could continue translating the papers in the library. While the data storage was lost when the Phoenix went up, the program to translate languages is still intact." He repeated the call a third time.

"And since I told the little midget not to let the data pad out of his sight, he should hear this."

He tried two more times, checking the transmission strength on his improvised program screen.

"I must not be getting a clear enough signal out." He sighed. His eyes began scanning the horizon. "We need to transmit from a higher point."

Legolas and Mavon also scanned the surrounding land and all of them settled on a nearby shelf of rock, rising steeply from the earth.

Without a word, the three of them sprinted for it.

The slopes were steep, but not overly difficult. As the sun set they reached the top, setting up camp in a small, concealed outcrop of rock.

Legolas took up the watch while Mavon cleaned and reloaded their weapons.

Felix took out his small tool kit and began working on the components in the data pad again, trying to boost the transmitter power as much as he dared.

"Recon, Seven, Three, calling Minas Tirith," he began again. "Do you receive?"

There was an ominous hiss.

"Recon, Seven, Three, calling station Minas Tirith, do you receive, over?" He looked up and back towards where the elf stood, partially concealed by shadow.

"How much time have we got?" He heard Mavon ask as he stepped up next to the elf.

"The enemy approaches fast," Legolas nodded. "They shall reach this place by dawn."

"Well, let's hope they go around us, and not up and over," Mavon sighed.

"You're weapons will not protect us?" Legolas asked.

"Hey, man," Mavon shrugged. "We're good. But we aren't that good."

There was nothing more to say. There, on that small patch of raised earth, they would die and they all knew it.

Felix blinked and sighed. He keyed the transmitter and the recorder.

"Recon, Seven, Three, calling Minas Tirith, do not attempt to respond," he began. "A large hostile force is moving south east from Calas Galathon towards Minas Tirith. Estimate time of arrival is fourteen days from original transmission." He looked up at Legolas who nodded in confirmation of his projected time table. "Secondary force also moving south east from mountain range northwest of same, two days behind. Enemy strength is," he paused. "Fucking huge. This message will be set to repeat every five minutes until battery life exhausted. Secondary force is approaching our position, E.T.A., fourteen hours." He looked up at the others. "Do not attempt retrieval of Recon, Repeat, do not attempt retrieval. Take care of yourselves. Out."

He disconnected the com and shut down all the other options on the pad, conserving the battery as much as he could, and hit the send button. A small green light began to pulse gently, indicating that the transmission.

He found a small, raised area of rock and set the pad in a protected crevice.

He returned and checked his weapon and offered a grim smile. "Anyone have a deck of cards?"

Amongst the countless treasures in the armory were shirts of intricately wrought silvered material, most cut to the size of a man.

The only one unable to find anything to fit was Silas, simply because of his sheer bulk.

"The Mithril shirts will fit beneath your clothes, master Tyrion," Gimli smiled as he donned a similar coat of mail. "You will find them less hindrance than you would expect."

"I can see that," Tyrion nodded appreciatively.

Silas did manage to find a set of greaves and bracers wrought from silvered steel and each of them found weapons that could function better than their gifts from Minas Tirith.

Xena and Gabrielle also re-equipped themselves adding finely crafted bows to their arsenals. Gabrielle replaced the heavy chain mail from Rohan with a lighter, golden hued shirt of Mithril. Boots were also found that fit her, as well as a finely wrought Elvin dagger.

They changed into the new equipment, carefully folding their clothes in their packs.

"Everyone set?" Tyrion asked as he inspected his eclectic mix of modern and primitive equipment. He looked at Gimli. "How fast can we get up and out of here?"

Gimli nodded to a far archway. "Through there, into the second gallery and from there we should find our way to the Dimril Stair." He considered. "A portion of that was collapsed by Gandalf, in his battle with the Barlog, but we may find a way to get past that."

"May?" Gabrielle asked.

The dwarf only offered a shrug in response.

Tyrion was refastening the clasps on his body armor. "Let's cook and book people," he ordered as he reattached his backpack.

The party moved to a second archway on the opposite side of the chamber. The carved steps looked as if they had been hastily carved. The stairway beyond went straight up into the darkness beyond Silas's lit flare.

"We must expect an obstacle somewhere ahead," Gimli informed them.

"How do you know?" Gabrielle asked.

Gimli grunted. "The Orcs have plundered Moria for generations, and yet that trove was undisturbed. It had been drowned in the ages past and I must conclude that this stairway exits the other parts of the mine, but is not accessible to them. If it is blocked for them, then it may also be blocked for us."

"Oh," Gabrielle replied. She shifted uncomfortable as her new mail shirt rubbed beneath one of the leather thongs holding her Rohan armor in place.

Xena paused and did a quick inspection. She quickly remedied the small malfunction.

"Better?"

Gabrielle nodded.

"Come on, girls," Tyrion called down to them.

They climbed for hours with the stair occasionally stopping at small landings where it reversed its direction and continued up.

After ten hours straight, they halted on a landing and took a small meal.

"My legs are killing me," Gabrielle complained as she pulled her boots off and rubbed at her calves.

Xena arched an eyebrow and smiled. "That's what you get for riding Argo so much."

Gabrielle gave her a dark look and then set her aching feet onto the cool stone and flinched as the rock contacted her skin.

"Si, recon up a few more stories and let me know if you find anything," Tyrion nodded towards the continuing steps.

The big man nodded and struck disappeared up the steps, his flare hissing in the darkness.

Gimli set his pack in the corner and dropped to the ground. "I do not understand this. We surely passed through many habitable parts by now. Why were there no doors into those galleries?"

Tyrion sat down on the step and looked back down the way they had come.

They heard the hiss of the flare before the glow returned, and then Silas came lumbering down the steps.

"We're clear one hundred yards that way," he puffed.

"Any access points?" Tyrion asked.

The big man dropped with a heavy thud onto the steps. "Not a thing. Just keeps going up and dog legging."

"Why are the walls so rough?" Xena asked as she rubbed her hand along the unfinished wall.

"What do you mean?" Gabrielle inquired.

"Well," Xena looked back at Gimli. "Every passage and hallway we've been down since we came here has been finished smooth, or faced with finished stone." She looked back up at the ceiling. "This looks like a tunnel that was cut and never finished."

"What are you thinking, Xena?" Tyrion asked.

"Maybe this was never finished? It may just dead end somewhere above us?" She indicated the steps. "Even these aren't done. They're straight and smooth, but not like the other steps we've traversed."

"Always good to have an optimist in the group," Gabrielle commented with a smirk.

"I'm a realist," Xena corrected him. "All I'm saying is that we may have to find a way to cut our way out of here."

"Or blast our way out," Silas added.

The put together a small meal from their dwindling supplies and managed an hours rest before Tyrion got them up again.

Tyrion activated the light beneath the barrel of his weapon. "Let's move out people," He indicated up the stairs. "Silas, I have point, you cover our six."

The big man nodded.

The stairs continued up, pausing every one hundred steps at a small landing where the direction of the stairs reversed, continuing upward.

"We must be in the higher levels by now," Gimli puffed behind him.

After the third landing, they began to see other objects scattered down the steps and on the landings, mostly pieces of bone and the tattered remnants of cloth scattered among discarded pieces of broken rock.

On the next landing they all stopped and beheld the remains of several bodies, laid neatly along the stone wall. Above each of them a series of runes had been carved deeply into the wall, naming each corpse.

Several old tools also lay against the wall. Tyrion picked up an old pickaxe and looked further up the stair.

"This isn't a good sign," he murmured.

"Who were they?" Gabrielle whispered to Xena as her eyes locked on the dark sockets of a skull.

"Dwarves, to be certain," Gimli replied.

"They were trying to tunnel their way up and out of here," Xena said in horror. She looked back down the way they had come. "The chamber below had flooded and they tried to carve their way out!"

"Gods," Gabrielle whispered.

"They sure did a hell of a job, getting this far." Tyrion nodded in appreciation. "And it explains why there weren't any remains of torches or candles in the main chamber when we found it. They used them while they were doing all this."

They continued up to another landing and several more corpses lying in state, then a third landing, and several more bodies.

"How many survived the flood, I wonder?" Gimli asked.

"Had to be quite a few," Silas commented. "Digging like mad down here, trying to get out."

They rounded another landing and came to a stop.

Several rough hewn steps rose up and stopped at a rock face. Lying on the steps were the remains of another dwarf, the rotten haft of a pick axe still clutched in the bony hand.

Wisps of dark whiskers covered the rotting clothing.

The skull gaped open as if screaming.

Tyrion stepped over to the body and examined the tool in its hand. It was useless.

"You never gave up," he nodded appreciatively.

"What now?" Gabrielle asked.

Tyrion drew out his data pad and set it against each of the three walls. He operated some controls and then nodded to a spot on the left side of the passage.

"Well, I got good news and bad news," he sighed. "The good news is we're damn near the outside world." He pointed at the right hand wall. "Ten feet that way and we open up onto the side of the mountain." He pointed to the opposite wall. "Five this way and it opens into a chamber of some kind. They must have gotten a little turned around as they worked." He looked down at the remains again. "Poor bastards."

He looked back at the others. "The bad news is that we don't have any tools to hack our way out of here."

"I still got some blasting gel left over from that lock puncher at Isengard," Silas offered. "Might be enough to crack this sucker open?"

"Either that, or we go all the way back down and continue under the water," Xena suggested. "But we don't know how far we would have to go before we find another place to warm up again."

"If at all," Gimli finished. "The lower halls have been lost to my people for generations. I am unfamiliar with the deepest workings of Moria. We could wander for days before we find another way up."

"Or run out of air," Gabrielle shuddered.

Tyrion considered for a moment.

"Si," he nodded. "Set the charge. Blast us a way in. Just be ready for a fire fight when it goes off. I expect everything in this mountain anywhere near the hole we make is going to come running."

Silas nodded and stepped past Tyrion, kneeling by the wall. He set his data pad against the wall and made his calculations.

In a matter of moments, the charge was set and two long wire leads ran from the edge of the explosive material down the steps.

"We've set," he said. "Head on back down a bit."

They all retreated to the previous landing and hid behind the wall.

Silas attached the ends of the wires to a set of terminals on his data pad. The screen glowed to life and he studied the digital readout, his thumb poised over a small flashing red icon.

"Okay, the concussion is still going to hit us down here, so be ready for it." He looked back up the stairs and then at the others as he set a pair of ear plugs in his ears.

"Plug your ears and open your mouths," He instructed. "Or the concussion will blast your eardrums out."

Xena and Gabrielle looked at each other and, feeling rather silly, they did as instructed.

Gimli's expression was the same as he placed his thumbs in his ears and let his mouth hang open.

"Fire in the hole!" Silas said and, after a quick glance at the others to assure that they were prepared, his thumb touched the screen.

There was a loud thump and a shower of rocks and debris came raining down from above.

Gabrielle screamed as Gimli turned, shielding the young bard with his body.

Xena knelt and turned her head away from the blast.

Tyrion spun quickly, shielding Xena in similar fashion while Silas stayed flat against the wall, turning his head away from the debris and crouching down.

The concussive force slammed into all of them along with a cloud of choking dust. Tyrion bounced against Xena and would have tumbled down the next stairway if Xena hadn't quickly turned and grasped the sleeve of his uniform.

"Nice catch!" Tyrion thanked her as they choked and coughed.

Silas picked himself up and stumbled through the debris to inspect the results.

"Let's move," Tyrion whispered.

One by one, they emerged in a large, finished chamber. Brilliant white light streamed in through massive windows cut into the sides of the mountain top.

Tyrion and Silas panned their weapons around the massive chamber, holding their breath in anticipation of an attack.

The only sound they heard was the falling of loose rubble behind them.

"Okay," Tyrion muttered. "This is kind of awkward."

"Where are they," Xena asked, stepping between them with her hand on her sword hilt.

"There should be hundreds of the vile creatures coming to us," Gimli nodded as he twisted his axe in his hands expectantly.

"Let's not wait for them, okay?" Gabrielle suggested, glancing nervously back at the tunnel.

"Agreed," Gimli nodded. He looked about the chamber, getting his bearings.

A forest of thick gray pillars rose to the carved ceiling, stretching into the gloom.

He stepped further into the chamber, turning about as he studied the dimensions of the place.

His eye's scanned the long narrow windows above them and he finally nodded turning and pointing.

"The upper gates to the Red Horn Pass should be this way," he said with certainty. "There should be a wide avenue at the north end of this chamber, leading up by a winding path to a cave that shelters the pass at the top of the mountain."

"Time?" Tyrion asked.

Silas glanced at his chrono. "We got plenty, boss. If Shorty's intel is good, we should have about twelve hours before they reach the pass."

"How long to reach the cave, Gimli?" Tyrion asked.

"From here, mere hours," Gimli replied, still glancing darkly at Silas.

"Okay," Tyrion nodded. "Gimli, you and Silas lead the way. I'll cover our six."

"Before we depart," Gimli said quickly. He pointed at the new opening in the wall. "In that hold are treasures of my people, lost for countless ages. I would not have them plundered by the dark things that dwell in Moria."

Tyrion looked back at the hole and nodded. "You want it plugged up again?"

"If it is possible?" Gimli nodded.

Silas unclipped a grenade from his vest and tossed it to Tyrion. "Two of those should do the trick."

Tyrion removed one of his grenades as well and stepped over to the opening.

"Get some distance," he ordered. "I'll catch up."

Gimli nodded and then turned, heading off into the gloom. "Follow me."

The rest of the party left. Gabrielle was the last, looking back at him with a delicate frown on her face.

Tyrion gave her a wink and nodded to her, indicating for her to follow.

He watched her vanish into the gloom and then counted to ten.

When he was sure the rest of them were far enough away, he pulled the pins from the explosives and stepped next to the opening.

He let the spoons pop from the devices and tossed them down the rough hewn steps.

"Fire in the hole!" he shouted as he turned and fled.

This time, the concussion was a dull thud that they each felt in the balls of their feet. Gabrielle turned back in horror, resisting the urge to run back towards Tyrion.

A fine dust floated up from the ground and a deep rumbling could be heard for several seconds after the initial blast. Then Tyrion jogged out of the gloom. He grinned.

"You weren't nervous, were you?" he asked.

"You always make me nervous," Gabrielle commented as they turned and hurried after the others.

The chamber gave way to a low wide passage that climbed steadily but gently upwards. Along the way, they passed signs of an obvious encampment. Filthy pieces of armor or hide, and the remains of rough camps rested on either side of the path. Here and there they spied the occasional pile of gnawed bones and other refuse.

"Not much on hygiene, are they?" Silas commented as he focused his attention and his weapon forward over Gimli's head.

Gabrielle looked from side to side at the various piles of debris. The origin of some of the more gruesome piles of gnawed bones was easy to discern.

She felt her hand wrapping instinctively around the grip of her small pistol.

"Looks like everyone bugged out, boss," Silas whispered.

"Yeah," Tyrion replied as he casually turned and panned his weapon back down the way they had come.

"Why?" Xena asked.

The air about them was filled with an acrid, smoky stench, and some of the smaller piles of ashes were still smoldering.

"Whatever the reason," He indicated a small ring of stones and the smoking contents. "They haven't been gone long."

He noted Gabrielle's white knuckle grip on her pistol, still resting in its holster.

Gabrielle felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Easy now," she heard Tyrion's voice say. "Don't put your hand on it unless you're going to pull it."

Her face turned to his, eyes wide with growing fear.

She noted his calm demeanor in spite of his intensity. His hand grasped his weapon loosely, at ease. If there was any tension in him, it was only in his eyes.

Her doe eyed fear gave way to a more subtle expression of curiosity.

"How do you do it?" she asked.

Tyrion gently nudged her in the direction of the others.

"Experience and training, baby," he replied. "Experience and training."

They continued through the passages, always heading in a gentle upward incline. They encountered no resistance along their path. Everywhere around them were the signs of occupation, but the resident creatures were absent.

"Like someone called a full muster," Silas muttered to himself.

Xena's eyes widened. "Exactly."

"Exactly what?" Gabrielle asked, grateful for any distraction that took her mind off of their current surroundings.

"Everyone is gone," Xena looked back at Tyrion. "This place is completely empty."

"Impossible," Gimli scoffed.

As if to prove her point, Xena turned and strode back past Tyrion. She inhaled deeply and then her war cry echoed down the passage from them, vanishing into the depths of the mine.

Tyrion stepped forward quickly and grasped the warrior princess's arm, spinning her around and cutting off her scream.

"Have you lost your rabid ass mind?" he demanded in fierce whisper.

Xena arched her eyebrows and stood patiently, her head cocked towards the open passage, listening.

After a long moment, when silence was the only response, they all took a deep breath of relief.

Xena arched an eyebrow and smiled, turning back down the path.

"We're up here!" she shouted. "Come and get us!"

Again, the only response was the silence, broken occasionally by a soft inhalation.

"God damn," Silas whispered. "There must have been tens of thousands of the bastards holed up in this place. You're saying they're all gone?"

"That's what I'm saying," Xena replied. "This place is empty."

"Son of a bitch," Tyrion lowered his weapon and activated the small lamp beneath the barrel. The brilliant white beam stabbed out into the shadows.

The light panned back and forth as he examined the remains lying strewn about the passage. All signs pointed to a hurried evacuation.

"But why?" He mused aloud.

"Maybe they were all needed somewhere else," Gabrielle offered with a shrug.

All eyes turned towards the young bard and she flushed visibly.

After a few moments, she could bear it no more.

"What?" she asked with just a touch of defense in her voice.