A/N Thank you all for the reviews - I do appreciate them
Well three chapters in three days - that is most definitely a new record for me! :-)
I hope you all like this one as much as you have liked the earlier ones... please let me know...
Jason tore through the streets of Atlantis, hot tears burning his eyes and blinding him. Angrily he dashed them away with one hand as he ran. Crying wasn't going to help him in any way. God he was so pathetic. What had he been thinking? He knew better than to let people get too close. Had learned the hard way to never let it get this far; to never let other people inside his defences. In the end everyone left; everyone let you down.
"Did you think they actually cared for you?" the voice in his head taunted him as he raced through the darkened streets. "You're unlovable. You know that. You drive everyone away in the end."
Jason bit his lip hard, trying to ignore his own thoughts. His cheek still stung where Hercules had slapped him – the big man certainly had a hard hand – but the sting almost comforted him, keeping him grounded to reality. He ran on, his mind too much in turmoil to even let him think of a destination. Where could he go anyway? He actually knew very few people in Atlantis; had very few ties to the place. Besides which he didn't think he could really stand to be near other people at the moment, almost desperately needed to isolate himself – to find a bolt hole where he could hide from the world, where he could protect himself. Perhaps it would be better to leave altogether. But then, would anywhere else be any different? He had lived in too many different "homes" to trust that anything would ever change. No matter where he went he always took himself – and that was the problem in the end; he was the problem. Unbidden the tears sprang to his eyes again. He had actually believed that this time had been different; that he had finally found a place where he could set down roots. He should have known it was too good a dream to last.
"I wanted to be your friend, remember?" the voice said. "I wanted to look after you. But you couldn't even get that right. You were only ever good for one thing and you failed at that."
Jason shuddered. He knew the voice was in his head; knew that it was just his mind and his memory playing tricks on him – but it still felt real. There was no way he could be in Atlantis. He had been left behind many years before – deliberately torn out of an adolescent's memory like a page being torn from a book. Suppressed and locked behind the thickest doors that Jason could manage to create in his mind. And yet his presence still lingered on – tormenting, taunting, not leaving Jason alone.
"And now here you are," the voice continued cruelly, "running away again. Where will you go this time? Where can you ever go to escape yourself?"
The irony of the fact that he was running away from home in his mid-twenties was not lost on Jason and he would have laughed if he didn't feel quite so desperate. He had left Hercules' house with only what he stood up in – his clothes, his breastplate and his sword. Any money that he had was in a pouch under his bed. Once again he had nowhere to go, no-one to turn to. Perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps he was just meant to be alone. All the times he had been sent away before, had been rejected by a world that had never really seemed to want him, welled up inside him – the memories jumping about and getting jumbled up in his head until he could no longer even pretend that he was thinking straight. Not that he'd actually been thinking clearly for some time.
Eventually exhaustion made his frantic dash slow to a stumble. Where the hell was he? The streets looked vaguely familiar (which in his current state of mind was a distinct bonus) and he finally worked out that he was somewhere near the docks. Oh well at least it would be easy to get to work in the morning he thought grimly, laughing humourlessly to himself. It could have been worse. His feet could have carried him to just about anywhere in the city without his brain playing any part in the matter. The area of Atlantis surrounding the docks was decidedly rough but at least hopefully no-one would think to look for him here – not that he really thought anyone would actually be looking anyway. The poorly lit side street he was in looked remarkably like the one where he had run into Alektryon on that fateful night that almost felt like a lifetime ago – and all at once he was back there in the alleyway with his hands pinioned behind his back and Alektryon with his hands on his face, forcing a kiss and gloating. Jason shivered as he fought down the waves of panic that accompanied the flashback, his heart pounding inside his chest. The side street felt awfully exposed all of a sudden and his darting eyes imagined all sorts of horrors lurking in the shadows. He had to find somewhere safe – somewhere that no-one could touch him. Any ideas he had had of meeting Ariadne at the Temple had been driven completely from his head by the whirlpool of emotions within his mind. He turned on his heel and ran off into the darkness again.
The alley he found was on the very edge of the harbour. It ran off what was perhaps the roughest street in the whole of Atlantis – little more than a slum. Jason did not know that, however, and to him the untidy pile of packing crates left over from the docks themselves represented only one thing – safety. Completely beyond thought now he crawled in amongst them and curled into a ball, his back resting against an unsteady pile of boxes and his arms folded on top of his knees. And there, hidden completely from the prying eyes of the world, he dropped his face down onto his arms and sobbed his heart out.
Within seconds of Jason tearing out of the house Hercules' rage had dissolved into horror. What had he done? In his unthinking anger he had lashed out with cruel words – words that he knew would have hurt Jason far more than the slap across the face he had given the boy would have done. In the months that they had known Jason it had become apparent to the big man that the one thing the young man feared more than anything else was rejection. And without meaning to, in a fit of temper, he had rejected the lad in the worst way possible – at the worst possible moment when it was obvious that Jason was already deeply troubled and not thinking clearly. No matter how much Hercules had been provoked by the young man's behaviour (and he had been provoked), he had effectively told Jason that he was no longer welcome in the house – that he should just leave. The burly wrestler's mind flashed back to the scolding he had given the boy months ago when Jason had thoughtlessly tried to run off into the night when he was still hurt and ill and not strong enough to be out of the house. The lad's reaction the next day had horrified the big man – he had clearly thought that he would be forced to leave simply because Hercules had been angry at him. It had made the big man's blood boil to realise that he must have been treated that way before – probably many times – and almost expected to be rejected. But wasn't that exactly what he had done now? Hercules turned towards Pythagoras, his horror and sorrow written in his eyes.
"I didn't mean it," he pleaded.
The young mathematician looked more furious than his older companion had ever seen him, blue eyes firing sparks across the room. He too knew where Jason's insecurities lay – although he had never discussed them with anyone – and somehow sensed that, like himself, his friend had probably seen some of the darker aspects of life – probably far too many. He knew just how much damage Hercules' words could have done and how deep that damage would run, and he was incredibly angry at the big man for losing his temper in that way and for not thinking about what he was saying.
"I don't think it's me you need to be telling," he snapped, voice full of ice.
Hercules winced. It was always awe inspiring – and slightly scary – to see Pythagoras angry, partly because it so rarely happened. The mathematician was normally too gentle and even tempered for his own good and incredibly hard to provoke. The fact that he was furious now spoke volumes.
"I know," he admitted, "and I will tell Jason just as soon as we find him."
"If we find him," Pythagoras corrected. "But that is not going to happen if we continue to hang around here."
Hercules nodded his assent and the two friends hurried down into the street.
The street was surprisingly empty given that it was not too long after sundown. Pythagoras sighed. Wherever he had run off to, Jason was obviously long gone already and had left no apparent trace of his passing. He had not really hoped that they would find their friend outside – Jason was far too upset to have hung around – but he had hoped that there might be someone in the street who he could ask and who might have some idea of the direction the young man had gone in. He stopped and looked up and down the street, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Since there were no obvious clues he needed to think things through. It had worked before but Pythagoras had a horrible feeling that Jason would not make himself so easy to find this time. If he was truly upset (and if the look of devastation on his face had been anything to go by he was truly upset) then it was in Jason's nature to look for somewhere to go where he could be alone. That ruled out any of the usual places Pythagoras would look – the Temple would be too crowded and the smaller fishing boats would be pulling up on the beach at this time of day. Still they had to start somewhere – even if it was just to rule out places where Jason wasn't.
"What are you waiting for?" Hercules asked testily.
"I was trying to decide where Jason might have gone," Pythagoras snapped back, still unable to forgive the big man for causing this situation with his thoughtless words. The mathematician knew that Jason had been provoking the big man with his somewhat volatile moods over the last few days and that his resolution to free Alektryon had pushed Hercules over the edge. He shook his head as he thought about it. It seemed unbelievable, even for Jason, that he should want to help free a man who had tried to harm him in such a vile way. It also seemed out of character for Jason to have told them about it so calmly. It was more in his nature to sneak out and take action if he wanted to do something that he knew his friends would try to prevent, and then to confess to them later. Pythagoras froze as a thought suddenly hit him. Jason was acting so irrationally and so far from normal that the mathematician was instantly concerned that his state of mind was far worse than he had been thinking; Jason might be far closer to self-destruction than he had thought – they needed to find him, and they needed to find him now. Some of what he was beginning to fear must have bled through into his eyes because Hercules, still looking hopefully at Pythagoras, also froze, his face paling.
"What?" the bulky man asked desperately.
Pythagoras gulped.
"We need to find Jason quickly," he said.
"You don't think..."
"I don't know," the young genius answered. "I hope not but he's been spiralling into a dark place for days."
Hercules stared at his young companion helplessly. What the boy was suggesting was unthinkable.
"Come on," Pythagoras continued, mind finally made up. "We know Jason was planning to meet Ariadne at the Temple... it at least gives us a place to start looking."
He was late. Ariadne paced up and down the main hall of the Temple restlessly. Jason was never late. Soon she would have to return to the Palace before she was missed. Ariadne could only imagine the way that Pasiphae would gloat if she were to be discovered in the company of a young man she had been expressly forbidden by her father to see. She was also under no illusions that the bulk of any punishment would fall on Jason rather than herself and she had no desire to put him at any risk. It had been a mistake to stay so long with him in the Temple earlier – Pasiphae had many spies and all it would take would be one set of prying eyes in the wrong place at the wrong time to spell utter disaster for the young man she had come to care about more than life itself. The problem was that when she was with Jason all thoughts of that nature tended to fly out of her head. No matter how dangerous the situation she felt utterly safe in his company – as though nothing and no-one could harm either one of them if they were together. In the cold light of day the Princess realised that spending any length of time with Jason opened him up to unnecessary risk and she could never ask that of him – would never want to risk his life in that way. She sighed. Wasn't that exactly what she was doing by asking him to help her free Alektryon? It was treason no matter how much she might try to justify it to herself by arguing that the merchant was simply an innocent pawn in her step-mother's machinations. She would be going directly against her father's will and was asking Jason to help her in that. If they were caught... she shuddered. While her father might eventually forgive her – might put it down to her naivety and innocent desire to give aid to the helpless – she could not see him being so forgiving with Jason. He would be condemned as easily as Alektryon had been. Ariadne paused for a moment. What was she going to do? Much as she wanted to see Pasiphae brought down, how could she ask Jason to risk his life? And yet she had promised Alektryon that she would help him. Could she go back on her word? The more she thought about it the more unsure she became. Her father had seemed so convinced of Alektryon's guilt and it was more in character for Pasiphae to simply accuse the man of treason – to claim that he was plotting against Minos – than to claim he had been attacking young men. Much as Ariadne still believed that the destruction of Alektryon would in some way benefit her step-mother, she was beginning to wonder if she should perhaps have made more enquiries before making any promises to the man – and before involving Jason. But there had been so little time for her to act.
The Princess continued to pace up and down, her agitation growing with every minute that passed with Jason still not there. Where was he? She shot a death glare at a priest who started to head in her direction. It was one of the few things that she was grateful to have learned from Pasiphae. The priest took one look at her, swallowed hard and veered off. Ariadne felt an odd little surge of triumph. Earlier, when she had first arrived, Melas had come over to enquire who she was praying for. She liked the chief priest but sometimes she found his constant nosiness about the nature of her prayers more than a little irritating. Once or twice she had been tempted to say something wicked to shock him, but then her nicer nature had taken over and she had felt compelled to tell him the truth. This time she had simply told him that she had arranged to meet a friend at the Temple and that her prayers would come later. Melas had given her a knowing look, an almost mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew exactly who she was planning to meet – a feeling that was compounded when he had offered to divert as many people away from the area where she was pacing as possible.
The sound of sandals slapping hurriedly on the stone floor made Ariadne draw back into the shadow of a pillar. Someone – or perhaps more than one someone – was running in the Temple and the Princess was suddenly filled with a sense of foreboding. Surely no-one would be looking for her yet? The Queen would not hesitate to send out guards to search for her step-daughter if she thought it would discredit Ariadne or harm her in any way. She looked up in time to see Pythagoras come charging across the floor followed by a puffing and panting Hercules lumbering after him. Ariadne sighed in relief, although it almost immediately turned into a frown of worry. His two friends were here but where was Jason? And why did they look so worried? She stepped out from behind the pillar and hurried over to them.
"Where is Jason?" she demanded. "Why isn't he with you?"
Pythagoras exchanged a concerned look with Hercules.
"He has not come here then?" he asked.
Ariadne resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was obvious that Jason was not there since she herself was asking his friends where he was.
"No," she said as patiently as she could. "I asked him to meet me here but he has not arrived yet." She bit her lip. "He is late," she confessed. "I have been growing concerned."
"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you asked him to go through with some damn fool scheme to free a convicted prisoner from the most secure place in Atlantis," Hercules growled now that he was getting his breath back.
Ariadne blinked in surprise at the hostility in the big man's tone. She was not used to being spoken to in that manner and certainly neither of Jason's friends had ever been anything less than properly courteous and deferential towards her.
"The charges against the man were brought because he was accused by Pasiphae," she explained quickly. "I know she has tortured him – that she tortured the confession out of him. I believe him to be innocent."
"Innocent?" Hercules snorted incredulously. "If Alektryon's innocent then I've never eaten a pie! The man should have been strung up years ago for all he's got away with. And you're a very silly little girl for believing him without checking."
Ariadne bristled at the way he was speaking to her. She was still Princess of Atlantis after all. She drew herself up to her full height and looked at the angry wrestler haughtily.
"As far as I am aware the only 'proof' against Alektryon was his confession," she stated. "Even the young man he apparently attacked did not come forward at his trial – if such a person even exists that is and is not simply some scheme of Pasiphae's."
"Of course he didn't come forward," Hercules growled. "He won't even admit to himself that anything happened."
"Who?" Ariadne asked thoroughly confused.
"Jason," Hercules snapped.
Ariadne froze, her blood suddenly running icy cold.
"What are you talking about?" she demanded, clutching at the big man.
It was Pythagoras who answered her.
"The young man who Alektryon attacked was Jason," he said wearily, touching the Princess' arm comfortingly. "Alektryon was attempting to get revenge on Hercules for reasons I will not go into. Jason has told us that he got away before Alektryon could truly harm him, although I am not entirely sure how true that is."
Hercules raised an eyebrow.
"I think it's fairly obvious that it's not completely true," he rumbled, "given how moody he's been for the last few days."
"But I asked him to help me free Alektryon," Ariadne said in some distress. "I told him that I thought the man was innocent. Why would he not tell me the truth? Why didn't he tell me what happened?"
"Because he's ashamed," Hercules grunted. "He's upset and ashamed and disgusted by what happened. He won't even talk about it properly with us. I think Jason would sooner die than admit what happened to you."
"I still do not understand why Jason agreed to help free Alektryon," Ariadne said. "I mean he said no at first but then he changed his mind."
"I suspect it had a lot to do with the fact that you were the one asking him, My Lady," Pythagoras answered with a weak smile. "I sometimes think that Jason would cut off his own arm if you asked him to do it and offered to kiss it better." He paused. "Plus he does not agree with capital punishment. He said that where he comes from they do not use it. I think that once he learned the manner in which Alektryon was to be executed – which I presume you told him – there was no way he was going to stand by and do nothing. Jason will never be happy with the thought that someone has been killed because of him."
"Do you know why Jason has not turned up?" Ariadne asked. "As I said earlier, he arranged to meet me and it is not like him to be late or not turn up at all."
She did not miss the accusatory look that Pythagoras threw at Hercules, or the way the big man shuffled uncomfortably.
"We had a bit of a disagreement," Hercules muttered. "I wasn't very happy with what he was planning – that he was willing to help Alektryon escape. I may have lost my temper a bit and said a few things I didn't really mean. Jason got a bit upset and ran off. We came here looking for him."
"Do not worry, My Lady," Pythagoras said, "We will find Jason." He paused again, his eyes narrowing and face dropping into a thoughtful frown. "What puzzles me is why Pasiphae would take an interest in this matter. She has proved to be no friend of Jason's over the months he has been in Atlantis and I know of several occasions when she has actively sought to end his life. Yet from the look the King directed at us during the trial it was obvious that he had been informed that it was Jason Alektryon had attacked. I do not understand why Pasiphae would want to help Jason now."
"Perhaps it was only some part of another scheme of hers," Ariadne suggested. "Regardless of Alektryon's guilt my step-mother would never have acted against him unless it suited some purpose of her own."
"Does it really matter?" Hercules asked. "He'll be safely executed tomorrow night and we can start trying to get back to normal – once we've found Jason that is... and standing about here gossiping won't get that done."
"I'm not sure it will be as simple as that, Hercules," Pythagoras murmured, still deep in thought.
"I know," the burly wrestler sighed. "I was just trying to be hopeful."
Ignoring both the Princess and his older friend, Pythagoras stepped away from them, brow furrowed in concentration as he paced up and down, obviously wrestling with the problem that was bothering him. Suddenly he turned, a stunned look on his face.
"What is it?" Hercules asked.
"I think I might be losing my mind," Pythagoras muttered.
"Why?"
"I have been speculating recently about where Jason came from," Pythagoras said.
"What's that got to do with anything?" Hercules grumbled incredulously.
"Please bear with me," Pythagoras almost begged. "I do not believe that Jason is Greek – or at least he has not been raised Greek. The Oracle told him that he was born here in Atlantis but he knows nothing of our customs, culture, laws or gods. Yet in spite of that he has clearly been educated... and probably well educated for the land he comes from. He reads and writes as well as I do and speaks our language fluently and without the hint of a foreign accent. He has clearly not been brought up to privilege but that necklace he wears is gold, Hercules."
"Gold?" the big man rumbled in surprise.
"Yes," Pythagoras said. "I thought it was brass but I realised the other day that it never tarnishes and when I saw it against that dark green tunic I realised it had to be gold. But only the people who wear gold in Atlantis are members of the court and the very wealthy. Jason once told me that his father gave it to him and it bears the symbol of the Oracle so it must have come from Atlantis originally, which makes me wonder just who Jason's parents were." He paused. "He was told his mother died when he was born and his father left when he was five, so I don't think that Jason knows all that much about them."
"Where are you going with this?" Ariadne asked softly.
"I am getting to the point," Pythagoras said. "When I was a child on Samos I was always told stories about Atlantis. About the time before the civil war and about the old King and Pasiphae."
"I was taught that the old King was a tyrant," Ariadne interjected.
"He was no tyrant," Hercules snorted. "Aeson wasn't a bad king actually, not all that different to Minos." He paused, suddenly remembering whose daughter he was with. "Sorry," he apologised.
"Which is all very interesting but rather beside the point," Pythagoras said with some exasperation.
"What exactly is the point?" Hercules growled.
"I was told that the King and Queen had a child. A son who was little more than a baby when the civil war started," the mathematician continued.
"That's right," agreed Hercules, "but I still don't see where you're going with this."
Pythagoras rolled his eyes. Time was not on his side when they still needed to find Jason but his thoughts were racing now and he needed to get through this story as quickly as he could. Perhaps he could have waited until a more auspicious time but he was talking through the ideas that had just come to him.
"The boy was special," he went on. "Touched by the gods themselves like his mother." He paused to gather his thoughts. "This is where I get a bit hazy on what happened," he admitted. "I was always told that the boy was killed."
"Yes," Hercules interrupted again. "The rumour in the city was that he was killed accidentally by one of King Minos' soldiers who panicked and fed the body to the pigs. The Queen went to her chambers and found the blankets in the child's cradle covered in blood. Pasiphae didn't leave her rooms for days afterwards. She only came out to oversee the execution of the man who killed her child," he paused. "It's probably the only time I ever felt sorry for her," he admitted.
"Quite," Pythagoras murmured. "Now we get to the bit that I'm not sure of... Hercules, what was the boy's name?"
"It was J...," Hercules trailed off, his eyes suddenly wide. "No!" he protested.
"I think I'm missing something," Ariadne admitted.
"The child's name was Jason," Hercules said, "but you can't think that it's our Jason," he added looking at Pythagoras.
"It would fit," the mathematician said. "He is the right age and has special abilities."
"You think Jason is Pasiphae's son?" Ariadne asked with some horror.
"I do not know," Pythagoras admitted. "I was merely speculating."
"But she has been trying to kill him for months," Ariadne protested.
"That is the one thing I cannot explain," Pythagoras said. "I am probably wrong about this... and I am certain that it has never even occurred to Jason. It is probably for the best if we forget that this conversation ever happened." He turned to Hercules. "We should get back to looking for Jason and I am sure that the Princess needs to return to the Palace."
With a curt nod, still slightly irritated at the delay, Hercules agreed and the two friends walked briskly off towards the door of the Temple, leaving Ariadne to make her way back to the Palace through the secret passageway alone.
Jason wasn't sure how long he sat among the crates. It probably wasn't all that long in reality and after the first storm of sobbing had passed, he raised his head from his arms, drained of all energy both physically and emotionally. Suddenly a noise alerted him. He wasn't alone in the darkness. Someone was coming down the alley. Someone walking purposefully. Jason sat absolutely still, scarcely breathing in case it alerted the person to his presence, irrationally afraid. The person paused by the stack and then all of a sudden the top few crates were removed in one swift movement and Jason looked up to see an enormous dark figure looming over him. He froze, staring up at the figure like a deer caught in the open by a hunter. The figure took a step towards him.