A/N Thank you all (as always) for the lovely reviews! I get quite excited to see them coming in - particularly at the start of a new story.

Now I will admit right here and now that I'm not as happy with this chapter as I would like to be but I hope you'll all still like it. I can't quite put my finger on why I'm not satisfied though. If you do enjoy reading it please let me know so that I can put my doubts to bed.


It was still dark when Jason woke up with a gasp, heart pounding and breath rasping. Tonight Circe had been the particular demon from his past that had had to be vanquished – something that he never found easy to do in his dreams. In fact if he were being completely honest with himself he had never actually managed to fight off the nightmares that came when he closed his eyes – merely quieted them for a time. At least this time he recognised the setting though – knew as soon as the nightmare started what he would end up facing. It was the dreams that ended up being mirrored in real life that unnerved him the most; the ones that seemed to be of the future.

Still trying to shake off the effects of the dream he sat up, elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands. After a long moment and with one last shuddering indrawn breath he looked up. Ariadne slept peacefully near the fire. Jason smiled softly to himself and edged closer, crouching down beside the girl and allowing his eyes to sweep over her sleeping form. Because watching her sleep isn't creepy or weird at all, he thought to himself with some amusement. But, God, she was so very beautiful as she slept; so very young and innocent. With trembling fingers he reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her eyes as gently as he could so as not to wake her.

From the movement in the position of the stars he guessed it was getting on towards dawn. Jason frowned faintly. How had he slept for so long? Surely he should have been woken for his turn at the watch hours ago? Come to that though he didn't actually remember going to sleep. In fact the last thing he could remember was picking at his supper without much enthusiasm while Ariadne had told a story about her brother Therus, Heptarian, a long stick and a bees' nest. Somehow he'd ended up going from there to sleeping wrapped up in his cloak and a blanket without quite knowing how.

He looked around himself. Someone (and he suspected it was Nisos) had erected a primitive frame of some of the longer branches they had collected up against the wall of the gully, with a couple of blankets stretched out over the top to form a sort of shelter. It wasn't enough to keep the wind from catching at them but did at least keep the rain off to a large extent, and looking at how saturated the fabric was Jason guessed it had been needed – that one of the winter storms had hit after he had fallen asleep.

Actually it worried Jason a little that he had apparently managed to sleep through the building of the shelter and the arrival of the storm. He really didn't think he'd been that tired. Usually he was a fairly light sleeper after all. Perhaps Ariadne had been right when she had asserted that he needed to rest, but he still felt guilty that his body had apparently decided to give in without consulting his mind. After all they were hardly safe at the moment and it was his duty – his responsibility – to protect the group.

He pushed himself slowly to his feet but ended up nearly doubled over as the throbbing from his ribcage became a scream. He hadn't even attempted to remove his breastplate since the battle in the Temple, unsure whether he would be able to manoeuvre enough to take either it or his tunic off unaided and equally unsure whether he would be able to get them back on afterwards – whether the pain in his side would be worse if he had to re-lace the armour. Somehow Jason suspected that it would be. As it was he reasoned that the breastplate was at least providing some protection to his damaged ribs; was hopefully keeping them stable. If the stiffness and pain were anything to go by Jason suspected that this time the damage went beyond cracks into full breaks. He only hoped that none of the bones were displaced because the thought of puncturing a lung was not an attractive one, especially out here where there was no real access to medical treatment – no matter how primitive that treatment might seem to him.

As the shriek from his side quietened down into a muted burn, a deep ache whenever he breathed in or out, stretching almost from shoulder to hip, Jason straightened once more, grimacing faintly. This was really not good. It didn't help that the cough he'd developed as he'd been recovering from being poisoned and couldn't seem to shake off, seemed to be getting worse rather than better. Every time he coughed it set fire to his chest; a burning pain that took a ridiculously long time to settle and made him feel raw from the inside out. What he wouldn't give right now for some paracetamol or ibuprofen – or really any of the painkillers he'd grown up with and always taken for granted in the world he had come from. Even one of Pythagoras' painkilling tonics would do – even if it did taste like something drawn directly from a bog.

With one hand he began to rub at his temples, squeezing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger in an attempt to quiet the blossoming headache that was building behind his eyes. A headache borne of stress and tiredness he suspected. Still with any luck it should only be a few more hours – a day at the most – until he could hopefully join up with his friends. Jason allowed the thought to console him. There was a chance, he was only too well aware, that the Oracle was wrong and that his friends had not managed to escape the Temple, but he refused to allow his mind to dwell on that possibility. No. He would join up with them at Dodona (or somewhere very near to Dodona at least) and then he could let himself rest. He just had to hang on until then; he was strong enough to last – he hoped.

That last thought almost made him smile wryly. The last time he had thought that had been when Pythagoras was recovering from his illness and there hadn't been enough food in the house for all three of them – and look how well that had turned out! Passing out at the top of a flight of stone stairs had not been the best thing he had ever done and was something to be avoided again by any means possible. Not that there was a flight of stairs in the woods but he supposed the principle held true. Oh God, he was even rambling in his thoughts. Jason's frown deepened. He must be even more tired than he had thought.

Tempting though it might be to try to go back to sleep, to curl back up in the blankets that as he looked at them only grew more attractive, he really ought to be taking his turn at the watch. And no matter how appealing the blankets looked Jason knew right now that the throbbing from his side would not make going back to sleep easy; that he would struggle to find a comfortable position lying down. He scrubbed a hand across his face and went to find Nisos, moving as quietly and carefully as possible to avoid waking the ladies.

The young Atlantian soldier stood just outside the camp, pacing up and down occasionally to relieve his boredom. He looked up as Jason approached and nodded in greeting to his companion.

"Quiet night," he murmured in greeting. "The air is still… peaceful. Would that it could stay that way."

"Hmm," Jason responded. "You shouldn't be on guard all night. You should have woken me earlier."

"You stood guard all night last night," Nisos pointed out. "But I haven't actually been here all that long anyway."

Jason frowned.

"What do you mean?" he demanded. Then he thought about it for a moment. "Ariadne," he growled.

"The Princess was most insistent that she be allowed to take her own turn at the watch," Nisos agreed mildly, "and she demanded that you should not be woken."

Jason pulled a face.

"You should have ignored her," he said.

Nisos raised an eyebrow.

"She is the Princess," he said. "She gave me a royal command. Her orders must be obeyed."

Jason gave a humourless laugh. There was no way he could argue with that he supposed even though he still disagreed with Ariadne's chosen course of action.

"I suppose you're right," he said softly.

"Besides," Nisos continued, "when you fell asleep over supper I figured you could use the rest."

"Maybe," Jason acknowledged.

The two young men stood in silence for a short time both lost in thought.

"It will be dawn soon," Nisos said eventually, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Jason agreed.

The young soldier allowed a faint smile to grace his features.

"There is no point us both being up," he pointed out. "Why don't you go and get a little more rest."

Jason huffed a breath.

"Too wide awake now," he said softly. "I might go and see if I can find some fruit for breakfast while things are quiet. We'll need to be moving off early if we want to get to Dodona before nightfall."

Leaving Nisos on guard, Jason slipped back into the camp and collected one of the bags they had brought with them before heading up the gully, past where the young soldier stood guard, to the far end. There should be fruit trees and berry bushes fairly nearby; their campsite had been picked with some care the day before yesterday because of both the natural protection that the gully provided and the abundance of food nearby.

Just beyond the end of the gully he stopped at a berry bush, loading the bag that he carried with enough to provide them with breakfast. Somehow he still couldn't get used to the fact that so many of the trees and bushes produced fruit in the winter, although he knew that the warmer climate would help.

Gradually he became aware that someone was behind him; someone who had moved on silent feet. Jason reached for the sword at his waist and mentally cursed when he found that in his tiredness he had forgotten to bring it. Stupid… he was so stupid!

"Your dreams are very dark lately."

Jason turned to face the Oracle, breathing a sigh of relief that it was not an Amphigeneian soldier behind him.

"They trouble you," the Seeress went on, her eyes boring into him intently.

"You can see my dreams?" Jason asked.

"Not their content," the Oracle admitted, "but I can sense their darkness… it has woken me several times."

"I'm sorry," Jason apologised.

"Do not be," the Oracle said gently. "It is simply part of my gift. I sense a darkness in your heart. Do you want to share it?"

"Not particularly," Jason answered. "There's nothing really to share. It's just a couple of bad dreams… only natural with everything that's happened I guess… and it's not like I haven't had bad dreams before. I'm not a child… I'm not going to be hiding from the monsters under the bed."

"Sometimes dreams may be just that," the Oracle responded, "but at other times they may be more."

"What do you mean?" Jason asked with a frown.

"They may tell us the story of our past… or our future," the Oracle ventured, looking sideways at her young companion.

Jason swallowed hard, feeling his breath quickening. There was no way she could know that some of his dreams seemed to have come true lately; no way she could have found out about the weird feelings that had drawn him towards certain things or had seemed to spark memories or visions that he couldn't possibly have. He was being ridiculous – childish – and jumping at shadows. Yes he had had a couple of dreams that seemed to play out in the waking world but it was no more than coincidence – nothing to be concerned about. Yet the rational part of his mind kept telling him that they had been more than mere coincidence. Had been too exact in detail to be anything other than prophetic. Jason shook himself. This was not something he was even willing to contemplate at the moment.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, pushing past the Oracle and heading back to the camp.

The Seeress watched him go. So it seemed that Pasiphae had been right. Jason was exhibiting signs of sharing the gift of prophecy yet he was clearly not ready to acknowledge the fact; was not ready to think about it. The Oracle sighed. That would make things so much harder. If she was to draw his gift into the light – help him before the abilities that he did not yet understand and could in no way control destroyed him – she was going to have to do it the hard way. The first step would be to force Jason to accept what was happening to him – and that was going to be difficult in his current frame of mind.

Ideally for what she had in mind they would need to be in a place of peace, tranquillity and safety. The Temple would have been perfect. There were even areas of the Palace that would have done. But here? In the woods? With the Amphigeneians hunting them at every turn? The very thought of attempting to do what she needed to do to make the young man understand what was going on in his own mind out here under these circumstances made her shudder. This was not a situation that could be rushed. The boy would need time to adjust, no matter how adaptable he had seemed to be to ever other change in his fortunes. He would need patient guidance from both herself and she believed his mother. Pasiphae might have a large part to play in what was to come.

No, even thinking of attempting to fully bring Jason's gift into the light and teaching him to control it while they were still being hunted by the Amphigeneians was impossible. She would need to wait until the situation was more propitious. Yet she knew better than anybody time was limited. Jason was already exhibiting signs of prescience and that would only grow as time went on. She worried that without proper guidance he would buckle under the pressures being placed upon him; had seen it happen in those with the gift of foresight all too often; knew that identifying Jason's particular abilities would only be half the battle.

With a soft sigh the Oracle began to pick her way back to camp. The first light of dawn was just beginning to grace the horizon and she knew that they would need to be moving on soon, especially if they wanted to reach Dodona before nightfall. There should hopefully be just enough time for her to make her morning devotions to Poseidon before they had to pack up camp if she hurried now.

By the time she reached the camp Ariadne had woken up. While Nisos and Jason took down the temporary structure that had protected them from the rain the night before, the Princess rolled up the blankets and put them away in their bags. The berries that Jason had collected for their breakfast had already been distributed among four bowls. The Oracle smiled softly. Obviously her three younger companions were waiting for her to return before they ate.

Quickly she took out a small bowl from her own bag and filled it with water from a skin, sprinkling the surface with ground herbs from a pouch at her waist and swirling her hands through it as she began her prayers, crouching in front of the bowl and looking deeply into it. The words she started to repeat at the same time formed part of the ritual – a ritual observance performed by Poseidon's Oracle for generations, whose origins were lost in the mists of time. As she spoke a wave of calm swept over the prophetess. No matter what circumstances they were delivered in the familiar nature of her prayers to Poseidon never failed to calm her.

As she prayed the Oracle began to feel the first indications that a vision was about to overcome her. Her eyes closed as her trance deepened, the images that came into her mind unbidden demanding her full attention. Poseidon was determined to show her a possible version of the future it seemed. Unbeknownst to the Oracle the conversation of her three companions had dwindled to nothing as they became aware of her activities. Of the three of them only Ariadne had seen the Oracle in a full prophetic trance before; had seen the woman receiving a vision. For the two men the experience was decidedly unnerving.

Jason crossed the camp and crouched down in front of the Oracle with her bowl in between them, his eyes wide. In the past when he had gone to the Oracle for answers there had been moments when she seemed to be consulting some sort of higher power but she had never seemed lost to the world – lost to him – in the way she did right now. As he watched her eyes snapped open, wide and staring, and she drew in a deep shuddering breath.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

The Oracle blinked at him for a moment before her features settled into a strained smile.

"The Gods do not always pick convenient moments to deliver their messages," she answered.

Jason frowned.

"What did they say?"

The Oracle blinked slowly again.

"The images that I see are not always clear," she said. "Others must interpret them as they can. Their message on this occasion was not for anyone here… you should not concern yourself with it."

Jason's frown deepened.

"Why do all my instincts tell me that you're lying to me?" he asked softly. "From the moment that we met you've misled me so many times… kept so much from me… how can I believe what you say is true now?"

The Oracle reached across the bowl and grasped his wrist.

"Everything I have done," she said. "Everything I have told you… or not told you… has been to protect you."

Jason snorted faintly.

"To fulfil this so-call destiny… this fate that you claim has been decided for me," he said more than a little bitterly.

"Yes," the Oracle agreed, "and no. I do not wish to see you harmed in any way. Your destiny is indeed a great one but it is not the only reason I have sought to aid and protect you."

Jason looked down at the ground.

"Alright," he said. He looked up at the Oracle again. "You should eat something. We'll be leaving soon."

The Oracle smiled at him as Jason pushed himself to his feet and made his way around the remains of their campfire to where the bowls of food were laid out, picking one up and sitting down to eat it. She accepted her own bowl from Ariadne with thanks and bent low over it.

The vision that she had seen had been clear and soon she would have to decide how to act to prevent it from coming to pass. Whatever happened she had to stop the images she had seen, no matter what the cost. The sooner they could get to Dodona the better. Then she could begin.


Pythagoras frowned as he looked at the herbs he was grinding between two rocks. Were they fine enough to use in a tonic? No, he decided. They really needed to be just a little finer to work to full effect. He sighed, feeling the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. How was he really supposed to keep the Queen alive out here with no supplies? The woman was grievously injured and really it was a miracle under the circumstances that she had not succumbed to her wound already. Clearly Pasiphae was made of stern stuff. But then, he reflected, so was Jason so really it should come as no surprise that his mother had the same tendencies. Even so though Pythagoras was only too aware that the Queen's health was dreadfully precarious at the moment, that there was still a risk of the blood loss from her injury carrying her away, or of a fatal infection setting in at any moment – particularly given the lack of proper medical care.

He was doing his best – of course he was. The knowledge that his friend would be devastated if his mother died under the current circumstances spurring him on. Yet there really was only so much he could do. He had removed the arrow that had been embedded in Pasiphae's stomach as soon as they had stopped here four days ago and had stemmed the bleeding with cloth torn from a cloak of one of the Palace guards who had accompanied them – not as clean as he would have liked but the only thing available to him at the time. Having cleansed the wound as best he could with water poured from one of the skins carried by the soldiers as part of their standard equipment (he had learned over the last four days that Dion insisted that all his men kept their standard equipment up to scratch), he had packed it with medicinal herbs swiftly harvested by both himself and Melas (who seemed to have some sort of experience of treating wounds – although he hated to think how that experience had been gained) and wrapped it securely in a bandage of white cloth which had once been part of the himation that Melas wore over his purple chiton and had been sacrificed to the Queen's need. It was hardly a proper bandage; hardly clean enough for what Pythagoras needed but it had had to do.

He didn't even have a cup to measure out and administer painkilling and healing tonics. The best he could do was to guess the proportions of herbs he needed, grind them up and try to pour them into one of the water skins before giving them to the Queen. It was frighteningly inexact to his logical mind and meant that he struggled to ensure that Pasiphae was getting a proper dose – neither too much nor too little. He had not even been able to make the woman more comfortable by switching her blood-stained and torn dress for a more suitable garment – they simply did not have anything else for her to wear. It galled Pythagoras that there was really little he could do to ensure his patient's comfort under the circumstances. She needed to be resting in a proper bed, with proper tonics and clean supplies if she were to stand a decent chance of recovery – and even then her recovery would not be certain given the nature of her wound.

At present she lay on the hard ground, protected only by his and Dion's cloaks. It was hardly the soft bed that Pythagoras would have liked to see her resting in; hardly conducive to her comfort or recuperation. He glanced across the fire towards where she was lying and frowned, trying to gauge whether her colour was better or worse than it had been a few hours ago. He thought perhaps that it was a little better – a little less grey – although he knew only too well that an increase in colour could indicate the start of a fever. Pythagoras bit his lip. He really did need to stop overthinking things; needed to stop allowing his mind to conjure up the worst possible outcome from the situation.

Looking back down at the stones the young mathematician decided that the herbs he had been grinding were now fine enough. Much more and they would be unusable dust. With great care he brushed them into the neck of a water skin, trying to funnel them with his fingers to avoid wasting any. Carefully stoppering the skin, he shook it a couple of times to try and distribute the herbs evenly throughout the water. It was far from ideal and not one of his better prepared tonics but under the circumstances he decided that it was the best that he could do. Certainly neither the King nor the Queen had objected to his ministrations so far. In fact Minos appeared only too grateful that someone was attempting to look after his wife.

Another quick glance across the fire told the young genius that Pasiphae still seemed to be asleep. He sighed. Much as he hated to disturb the healing rest that she needed he really did need to check her wound to make sure that it was not suppurating. Of all the possible outcomes infection was the one he most dreaded in this case. Given how much she had been sleeping though he rather hoped that he could manage to check the injury without ever waking the Queen – it would be better for all concerned if that was the case. For once Minos had left his wife's side; had been persuaded by Melas to try to get some rest. No doubt it would not be long until he returned but his absence allowed Pythagoras the opportunity to examine his patient without having to answer questions from her naturally anxious husband.

On silent feet Pythagoras made his way around the fire, the tonic filled water skin clutched in one hand. He dropped down to his knees alongside the Queen and with quick but gentle fingers began to check the bandage at her midriff. The wound that lay beneath was ugly but to Pythagoras' relief showed no signs of infection. Even without that risk, however, it was still serious enough to present a danger to the Queen's life, although the more time passed the more chance Pasiphae had of making a recovery – although how long that recovery might take Pythagoras did not know; until he could get the woman to a place more conducive to healing her recovery would be far from certain.

The young genius sat back on his heels and blew a heavy breath in relief, as satisfied as he could be that Pasiphae was not in imminent danger of taking a turn for the worst. He glanced up at her face to gauge her colour at this close range and almost fell backwards in surprise when he found a pair of weary dark eyes watching him calmly. Pasiphae allowed a faint, amused smile to grace her lips at his startled jump.

"Your Majesty," Pythagoras stammered. "I did not mean to wake you."

"Pythagoras," Pasiphae returned his greeting, her voice low and weak. "Do not concern yourself. I have been awake for some time."

She tried to ease herself into a more comfortable position and winced, her face screwing up with pain. Without even stopping to think and with practiced ease, Pythagoras slipped a hand under her shoulders and raised them from the ground, lifting the tonic filled skin to her lips at the same time. Once he was as satisfied as he could be with the amount of fluid she had managed to consume he re-stoppered the skin and dropped it to the ground beside the Queen before carefully lowering her head back onto her own rolled cloak, used to form a makeshift pillow, and began to fuss with the cloak that lay over her, smoothing out the creases in the hope of making her a little more comfortable.

"The herbs should start to work and lessen your pain shortly," he said softly.

"Thank you," Pasiphae responded with genuine gratitude. She looked around the cavern as best she could from her supine position. "Jason?" she asked hopefully.

Pythagoras sighed. He hated to disappoint the Queen but in all conscience could not lie to her.

"I am sure he will be here soon," he said comfortingly.

"That is what you have been saying ever since we arrived here," Pasiphae retorted with as much sharpness as she could muster. It was at best a weak attempt.

"I still believe it," Pythagoras answered.

"Why?"

"Because Jason has never let me down," the mathematician responded promptly. "He will come as soon as he is able."

Pasiphae sighed and allowed her eyes to close for a moment. Then she opened them and searched the young and earnest face before her.

"You are very loyal," she remarked, and for once it didn't sound like a rebuke.

Pythagoras half smiled.

"Jason tends to inspire loyalty," he said. "Even when he does not realise he is doing it. I think it because he is so loyal himself. It is hard not to be loyal to someone who would willingly give their life to save yours; who would walk into Hades to save a friend."

"He is special," Pasiphae agreed. "Unique." She sighed. "He was lost to me for so many years. I cannot lose him again."

"You will not," Pythagoras answered reassuringly. "Jason will be here soon."

"I can see why my son chose you as a friend," the Queen said. "I am glad that he has found people who have so much faith in him… Who have treated him with kindness."

"I would not have acted in any other way," Pythagoras said. He looked at Pasiphae searchingly. "How are you feeling?" he enquired.

"Like I was shot," she responded wryly. "It is bearable."

Pythagoras nodded.

"The pain is lessening?" he asked.

"Yes," Pasiphae answered. "Your herbs are having the desired effect. I will live."

"But you must rest," the young genius stated. He hesitated for a moment. "The King is very worried about you My Lady," he added.

"Minos is protective of his family," Pasiphae agreed. "He will be worrying about Ariadne as well."

"Yes," Pythagoras said. He looked appraisingly at the Queen. "You should try to get some sleep My Lady," he advised.

"I wish to see Jason return," Pasiphae answered, her voice dropping with exhaustion.

"Do not worry," Pythagoras responded. "I will wake you the instant he arrives. I give you my word."

Whether it was because of his promise or whether the Queen's body decided to choose this moment to give in to the exhaustion that was trying to claim her Pythagoras could not be sure. All he could really say was that she gave a sigh and allowed her eyes to drop closed, sleep claiming her almost instantly. The young mathematician frowned. He was worried by how weak the woman was, although he knew that it was only to be expected given the nature of her injury.

With one last twitch of the cloak covering the Queen – one last attempt to ensure that she stayed as warm as possible – Pythagoras pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the cave entrance, running one weary hand through his hair. The day was clear – fine – and the sun was bright as it shone through the trees into the clearing that the cave stood at the edge of, dappling the ground with light and shadow. The sacred grove of Dodona was a beautiful and tranquil place. Pythagoras looked out from the concealed entrance and sighed softly, the serenity of the grove seeping into him. It had been a difficult few days and somehow he couldn't see the immediate future getting any better.

"Where in the name of the Gods do you think you're going?" Hercules' voice stopped the young mathematician in his tracks as he was about to leave the cave.

"I need more herbs," Pythagoras responded softly.

He really didn't have the time or energy to argue with Hercules right now and just hoped that his large friend would let him get on without too much trouble.

Hercules looked at the weary slump to Pythagoras' shoulders and frowned. The lad was running himself ragged trying to help everyone and it really wasn't that long since he'd been seriously ill with fever – just a few weeks. He ought to be trying to get what rest he could while things were quiet. After all the Queen might still take a turn for the worse at any moment and then Pythagoras' skills would be needed and he would need to be at his most alert and capable, not half dead with fatigue.

"I can do that," he rumbled gently. "You should be trying to get some sleep while you can."

Pythagoras shot him an incredulous look.

"You would not know what to pick," he said. "I would ask for orris root or betony and get parsley or marjoram."

Hercules wanted to protest but Pythagoras was right – he knew little of herbs beyond the culinary uses of some of them.

"Just let me get a cloak and come with you," he said. "None of us should be going out alone. The Amphigeneians are bound to be looking for the King by now."

"I think we are safe enough here for the present Hercules," Pythagoras murmured.

"Nowhere's safe," Hercules disagreed, turning to find his cloak.

Pythagoras waited where he was. It was easier to simply give in and let Hercules come with him, and the burly wrestler might have a point. It probably was safer for them to go out in pairs rather than alone. Of course Pythagoras was so tired right now that he couldn't be sure; couldn't think straight.

Hercules returned in moments with his cloak on and thrust a second blue cloak at Pythagoras. The young mathematician stared at it blankly for a minute before looking up at Hercules in confusion.

"Put it on," his older friend said patiently. "Asopus leant it to me so that you could keep warm. It's his turn to be on guard inside so he won't need it for a bit."

"I'll have to remember to thank him later," Pythagoras said quietly, taking the cloak and slipping it over his head.

For a time Pythagoras wandered here and there in silence, picking odd herbs as he went and stuffing them into a pouch at his waist without looking. It was far from his usual careful manner and Hercules watched him with growing concern but chose not to say anything for the moment. Finally the young mathematician gave a heavy sigh and stopped in the shade of a large tree, staring unseeingly at the ground.

"What did we really come out here for?" Hercules asked gently. "If you really needed more herbs you'd be picking more than you are… and taking more care about what you were picking for that matter."

Pythagoras frowned and looked at him sharply.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"Because even I know that hemlock is poisonous and how to recognise it," Hercules answered with a raised eyebrow.

Pythagoras swore and scrabbled in the pouch on his belt, pulling out a handful of herbs and staring at them in consternation. He swore again.

"That was not what I thought I was picking," he muttered sheepishly.

"I worked that out," Hercules responded.

Pythagoras sighed and sank down to the ground, his back to a tree trunk and his knees pulled up under his chin. Hercules sat down next to him and nudged him gently with one shoulder.

"So what are we out here for?" he asked softly.

Pythagoras bit his lip and wrapped his arms loosely around his knees.

"I just needed to get away," he confessed. "To not think about anything for a while. To not have to worry about…" he trailed off into silence.

Hercules patted him gently on the shoulder.

"Everything will be fine," he said comfortingly.

"Will it?" Pythagoras asked. "How can you be so sure? Atlantis has fallen and we are exiles, on the run with the King; running for our lives from the Amphigeneians. Jason is missing… and so are the Princess and the Oracle. The Queen is badly injured and at risk from infection. Nothing is right."

"The Queen will be fine," Hercules rumbled. "I know you… you'll have done your best for her."

"But what if my best is not good enough?"

"It will be," Hercules rumbled. "You're clever. There's no man cleverer than you." He paused briefly. "Unless there's something you're not telling me that is," he added looking hard at the young genius.

Pythagoras worried at his lip.

"No," he admitted. "There is nothing that I know of… it is more that I am worrying about all the things that could go wrong."

"There's no point going and borrowing trouble," Hercules pointed out. "I think we've got enough of that already."

Pythagoras ignored the comment and glanced back towards the cave entrance.

"She is worrying about Jason," he said softly. "Using energy that she should be putting in to getting well."

"We're all worried about Jason," Hercules sighed.

He caught Pythagoras' knowing look and cleared his throat.

"Not that I worry you understand," he added.

"Of course not," Pythagoras agreed, a little spark of mirth dancing in his blue eyes.

"That boy had better have a damned good explanation for where he's been that's all I can say!"

"I'm sure he will, Hercules," Pythagoras ventured. "I cannot see that Jason would have stayed away without good reason. For all his faults he does not like upsetting people."

Hercules deflated.

"No… no he doesn't," he said softly.

"Do you still mean to go looking for him?"

Hercules looked out across the grove thoughtfully.

"I do," he said. "If Jason hasn't joined us by nightfall I'm going back to the city to look for him."

"It is madness," Pythagoras argued. "If you are caught…"

"I won't be," the burly wrestler stated confidently. "Besides why would they even look at me? I'm just another ordinary person going about my ordinary day. I'll head back to the city and have a nose around… see if Meriones has heard anything. If Jason and Ariadne were caught escaping then at least we'll know… and can try to do something about it."

"And if they were not? If they are no longer in the city?"

"Then I'll make my way back here so we can try to work out where the wretched boy has got to." Hercules glanced about the grove again. "It's peaceful here," he noted.

"Yes," Pythagoras agreed.

Hercules slipped a burly arm around his friend's thin shoulders, allowing the young man to lean into him for a bit. After a few minutes he gave the shoulders a squeeze and looked across at the mathematician.

"Are you ready to go back?" he asked.

"Not quite yet," admitted Pythagoras. "You go back… I just need a few more minutes."

"Then I'll stay with you."

"You're a good man Hercules… a good friend."

Hercules sighed.

"You and I have been friends for more years than I care to remember," he said softly. "I haven't always been the best of friends."

"No," Pythagoras agreed. "There have been times when I have cursed your name… when you have been drunk or gambled away all our money."

"That's a bare faced lie!"

"Is it?"

"No," Hercules admitted. "I've spent most of my life in taverns… drinking or gambling… pretending that I was a hero. You boys… you and Jason… you're the only family I've got left… and if I can't keep him safe then at least I can stay and try to help you."

Pythagoras smiled gently and patted the big man's free hand.

"Thank you old friend," he said.


By the time the late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, lengthening the shadows that spread across the forest floor, Jason was feeling pretty awful. The headache that had started in the pre-dawn hours had only increased in strength as the day had gone on until it had reached blistering proportions. Jason grimaced. Over the past few weeks he had been getting headaches of various strengths on an increasing basis. Whilst he knew that they were mainly being triggered by stress and tension, knowing that did not make them easier to handle and he feared that a full blown migraine was lurking somewhere around the corner. Now that was definitely something he wanted to avoid if it was at all possible – especially out here in the wilderness. He got the feeling that a migraine – if it were the same sort that he used to occasionally get in his former life – would be difficult enough to manage in the relative comfort of his own home in Atlantis, or in his chambers in the Palace, but out here in the woods it would be unimaginably hard.

The young man paused and ran a tired and frustrated hand through his dark curls. The throbbing behind his eyes was making it hard to think straight and he knew it; was making it hard to concentrate on anything other than how he was feeling. At least the shade provided by the trees was lowering the light level to a point where it was bearable for him – which was something he supposed. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, he thought grimly, you've felt worse than this. It was true too; he had felt worse than this – had been more seriously injured… and more seriously ill for that matter. But that didn't change the fact that he still felt pretty rough right now. All that was really keeping him going was the thought that his friends would be waiting for him at the end of it and that hopefully there might be a nice warm fire somewhere that he could curl up next to and some sort of medicine or tonic that would relieve any aches and pains.

Exhaustion was lingering though, making him feel heavy and dull. Somehow he'd lost track of where they were going; hoped that he was still leading his little group in the right direction – the direction that the Oracle had pointed him in; knew that he should stop and rest but equally knew that it was safer to keep going and try to find the others; that there was safety in numbers and that at least once the two groups joined up there might be more people to take some of the responsibility for the safety of Ariadne and the Oracle off his hands. He closed his eyes for a moment and wavered slightly as a sudden surge of light-headedness swept over him. It wasn't true dizziness he decided randomly – just enough to take him slightly off balance.

A soft hand grasping his upper arm with remarkable firmness jerked his eyes back open and he found himself looking straight into the troubled eyes of the Princess.

"We should stop," Ariadne murmured with some concern, running a hand across Jason's forehead and down the side of his face. "Rest for a while."

"No," Jason retorted. "We need to carry on to Dodona and find the others before nightfall."

"We do not even know that they will still be there," Ariadne argued, "and I cannot see that it will make much difference whether we reach there this evening or in the morning."

Jason frowned.

"The longer we take getting to Dodona the more likely it becomes that they'll have moved on," he stated. "We might end up wandering the woods in hope of finding one another right up until the point we're all caught by the Amphigeneians. Anaxandros would deeply love to get his hands on both your father and you… and I can't let that happen. The Oracle says that Melas will have led the others to Dodona so that's where we need to go to start looking for them. Besides, you can't tell me that you don't want to see your father again."

"Of course I want to see my father," Ariadne said flatly, "but not at your expense… You seem unwell and I think that you would benefit from resting."

"I'm alright," Jason answered with a soft sigh. "I've just got a slight headache… nothing to worry about."

That, he thought bleakly, is the understatement of the year. Yet there was simply no point whining about it when there was nothing that could be done right now; letting Ariadne and the others know just how much his head was pounding or how tired he felt would serve little purpose other than to worry his companions – especially when they were so close to their destination.

Ariadne gave him a knowing look.

"You are very stubborn," she chided lightly.

"Yes," Jason acknowledged, "but you already knew that." He paused. "It will be safer for us once we have found the others anyway… more people to share the watch and all that."

Ariadne turned and glanced across to where their other two companions were waiting expectantly for them to move on.

"Very well," she reluctantly agreed. "We will move on… but once we have found the others you need to rest. You are clearly tired."

"Once we've found the others we can all rest," Jason responded. He looked about himself absently and suddenly froze, peering hard into the hollow of the tree he had stopped next to. Suddenly he smiled.

Ariadne stared at him, confused by his sudden change in mood.

"What is it?" she asked.

Jason reached into the tree and pulled out a pine cone, three sticks and a small pebble.

"It's a sign," he said softly. "We're closer to Dodona than I thought." His grin widened at the honest confusion gracing Ariadne's beautiful features.

"A sign?" Nisos said sceptically. "Three sticks and a pinecone?"

"And a pebble," Jason agreed brightly giving a faint chuckle at the frowns he was seeing on his companions' faces. "It's a marker," he added by way of explanation.

"A marker," Ariadne said flatly.

"When Pythagoras and I first started going hunting with Hercules he taught us both a system of markers that he'd come up with so that we could find one another if we were ever separated," Jason explained. "It wouldn't mean anything to anyone else but if we ever have to move on in a hurry we can use it to tell each other where we've gone… where we are. Hercules or Pythagoras put these bits here for me to find to let me know where they're camped. We're nearly there."

"You really think that this is a sign left by Hercules?" Ariadne asked. She wanted to believe Jason but was a little concerned that he was seeing what he wanted to see given how keen he clearly was to find his friends.

"Or Pythagoras," Jason said. "Yes I do." He looked at the path ahead with renewed energy. "We're nearly there," he breathed again, stepping forwards. He looked back over his shoulder at his three companions. "Come on," he demanded hurrying off down the path and leaving the other three to catch him up.


The closer it came to nightfall the more unsettled Pythagoras became. He knew that Hercules would be true to his word and go looking for Jason and honestly he couldn't blame him. If he had had any choice in the matter he would be right there with the wrestler himself. After all Jason had been separated from them for far too long – should have managed to get here days ago – and the mathematician couldn't help but conjure up all sorts of dire reasons in his head for their friend's absence. As things were though there really was no way that he would be willing to leave the Queen at the moment. He might not like Pasiphae – might not trust her – but he still could not stand by and see her come to harm if it were in his power to help. He would stay and try to assist in her continued recovery until such time as he could be assured that the woman was out of danger. After all he couldn't help believing that it is what Jason would want.

Knowing that he was doing the right thing and understanding both Hercules' feeling and proposed actions didn't make anything any easier, however. For the fifth time in the last half hour he pushed himself to his feet intending on going outside to pace the grove once more. This time however he found himself restrained by a calloused hand.

"Sit down," Hercules growled firmly, "you're making me dizzy with all the pacing."

"I just thought I might get some more firewood… in case we run low in the night," Pythagoras responded unconvincingly.

Hercules raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the large stack of wood piled neatly to one side of the cave.

"Because you never know when we might need to build a bonfire," he groused.

Pythagoras blushed.

"I was just…"

"I know what you were just going to do," Hercules rumbled. "Sit down and calm down."

"I am perfectly calm," the young genius protested, running a hand through his blonde curls but complying with Hercules' demand and sitting back down near the fire. He stared into the flames for a moment. "You are going to slip away while I am asleep tonight aren't you?"

Hercules hesitated for a moment.

"I think the less people that know that I'm going the better don't you?" he answered.

Before Pythagoras could respond there was a commotion from the entrance to the cave as Asopus came back in suddenly, grinning broadly. Dion was over to him in an instant. The big general had been attempting to confer with the King – not an easy task at present given how deeply Minos had withdrawn into himself and how focussed he was on both his wife's health and his daughter's whereabouts.

"You are supposed to be on watch," Dion growled to smiling soldier. "Has something happened?"

"I found something out there and thought I should bring it back for you to see," Asopus answered cheerfully, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

Before Dion could question him any further, Princess Ariadne appeared in the cave entrance. The girl looked a little tired but otherwise unharmed and still as beautiful as ever, even dressed in men's clothing (Jason's clothing Pythagoras couldn't help but note with a wry smile) with a bow slung across her back and a satchel bouncing on her hip.

"Ariadne," Minos gasped, jerking to his feet and darting around the fire to take his daughter into his arms, murmuring words that only she could hear into her hair.

It was the most animated that he had been in days and spoke whole volumes for how worried about his beloved daughter he had been, Pythagoras thought. The young mathematician turned his attention back to the others that had entered the cave. Melas had gone to meet the Oracle, he noted, and had drawn her off to one side, already deep in conversation, and Dion was currently receiving a report from Nisos, the junior officer standing to attention and looking straight ahead impassively, although his eyes strayed from time to time to the companions he had entered with.

That left one more person from the group that they believed had escaped from the Temple together. Pythagoras' eyes found Jason's and he couldn't help the broad grin that came across his face, knowing that to one side of him Hercules probably looked the same. Then the grin morphed into a faint frown. Something wasn't quite right; something about Jason seemed off. He looked downright exhausted for a start, but it was more than that. He was carrying himself stiffly; standing defensively, partially turned to the side as though he was favouring one side, protecting it from damage – or further damage, Pythagoras suspected.

His eyes strayed from Pythagoras' and found the still form lying on the far side of the fire, guilt flaring in them as he did so and he tensed even further. Pythagoras bit his lip. He should have expected that reaction really. Jason had an annoying habit of trying to take the weight of the world on his shoulders; of blaming himself for things that really weren't his fault in any way. With short strides the young genius crossed to his friend's side and slid an arm around Jason.

"How is she?" Jason asked.

"As well as can be expected," Pythagoras hedged, not wishing to seem overly optimistic but still wishing to give his friend some comfort.

He knew better than anyone that any injury could result in unforeseen complications – and that a serious injury was the most fluid in terms of recovery. He caught the way that Jason bit his lip unhappily, the guilt and worry flaring even more in his eyes and sought to try to alleviate a little of it.

"The Queen is very weak and in some pain," the young mathematician admitted, "but she is remarkably lucid when she is awake. She is strong and resilient. I have no reason to believe at this present moment that she will not recover." He glanced across the fire towards Pasiphae. "She has asked after you whenever she has been awake," he added. "She has been worrying. I believe that she will rest more easily now that you are here. That can only be good for her recovery."

Jason nodded, never taking his eyes off his mother. Pythagoras gave his friend's shoulders a squeeze.

"I promised Her Majesty that I would wake her when you arrived," he said softly.

Before he could cross to the Queen's side, to wake her and tell her that her son had arrived, Pythagoras was stopped by Ariadne who, extracting herself from her father's embrace, made her way over with a smile and held out the satchel she had been carrying.

"I am afraid I borrowed it from Jason's room when the Amphigeneians attacked," she said. "I hope you don't mind too much." She paused and looked a little guilty. "I am afraid I took your scrolls out to fit a blanket and some spare clothes in, but I left everything else in there… I thought the herbs might be useful."

Pythagoras beamed as he took the bag.

"Thank you," he said genuinely. "My medical supplies are in here. You have no idea what a relief it is to know that I can properly mix tonics now instead of guessing at doses… and to have clean bandages available again."

He hugged the satchel to himself and made his way over to the Queen's side, much happier than he had been just a short time earlier. Jason's arrival had taken a great load off his mind and the fact that he now had access to slightly better medical supplies (albeit limited in quantity) cheered him.

Jason watched him cross the cave with wildly swinging emotions. He was incredibly happy to see his friends again – of course he was – but mixed up with it was a large dose of fear (both for his mother's wellbeing and the future of them all) and guilt that Pasiphae had been hurt because of him in the first place. His head was still pounding and the ache from his broken ribs seemed to provide a throbbing counterpoint with every breath he took. For a moment the young man allowed his eyes to drift longingly towards the fire and his thoughts turn to his desire to simply curl up near it and try to sleep away the worst of how he was feeling. He was too tired to think any more, too tired to do anything, and dark, unhappy thoughts gnawed at the edges of his mind.

"So where in the name of the Gods have you been?"

Hercules' barked question was almost a welcome distraction. The burly wrestler had come to stand next to him while Jason hadn't been paying attention but there was affection in his broad face despite his harsh tone and concern in his eyes. Jason allowed that affection and concern to wrap around him and bolster him, knowing that it would not be long now until he could rest properly.

"There were Amphigeneian patrols everywhere in the woods," he murmured quietly so that only Hercules could hear him. "I didn't want to lead them here so we took our time evading them – making sure that they didn't follow us. They began to withdraw to the city yesterday so we took our chance to slip through." He glanced at Hercules and took in the big man's frown. "I'll tell you all about it in the morning but I'm a bit too tired to think right now." He reached up and rubbed his forehead.

Hercules' frown deepened.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Mmm," Jason responded non-committally. "Headache."

"Pythagoras probably has something in his bag of tricks that'll help with that," the big man pointed out.

"I know," Jason agreed. "I'll ask him as soon as we're both free."

He looked up to see Pythagoras beckoning him over.

"I think that's my cue," he said softly, before trotting over to where his friend waited with the Queen.

Everything else could wait, he decided. Right now what he needed most was to make sure that his mother was recovering; needed to see for himself that she would be alright.