Anna let out the breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding. She had been worried that he might try and be noble and "face his destiny" or whatever rot it was that he sometimes went on about. She squared her shoulders and began.

"As much as I can piece together from what everyone told me, the attack came about dawn. The sun was just starting to creep over the mountains when they came. Many men, about fourteen or fifteen, Aunt Veronica said. They were painted with blue and yellow dye, and they all had black tattoos on their faces. They came out of the jungle, screaming. Some had bows, but most had knives. You were unprepared. They'd been quiet. You all managed to shoot a few, but then…"

She took a deep breath, and Roxton knew in his gut that she was going to tell him of his death. He waited as she gathered her thoughts.

"In the melee, no one saw the one archer. He stopped no more than a few steps away from you and took aim. Aunt Veronica got him with one of her knives, but it was too late. He'd fired. The arrow hit you so hard that it knocked you back against a tree. It hit you in the chest. Mother…Mother tried to stop the bleeding, but it was so deep…and it punctured your lung…" She looked away as the tears gathered again in her eyes, but composed herself and kept going.

"You tried to soothe her, but…you died. All of the attackers were killed save one, and he plunged his own knife into his heart rather than tell Aunt Veronica anything. She and Uncle George…they had to pull Mother away from you. When they brought you home, I could see the blood…my whole world shattered in that one moment."

Roxton made a soothing noise and gently took her hand. As gruesome as it was to hear the details of his own death, it was worse to know that his little girl knew all of the details as well, and that his death had wounded her spirit so severely. She gave him a brief smile and continued.

"We recognized the tribal colors. They're called the Maanti, but we knew that the Maanti didn't have facial tattoos. We tracked them down, but they told us that several months before a group had broken off from the main tribe. About thirty people chose to follow a man from outside the tribe. His name was Kirdon. The leaders of the Maanti hadn't heard from the rogue members since they'd left, but they told us that Kirdon's words and many of his actions before the group broke off had made the leaders uneasy. They couldn't quite say why, but they didn't trust him. In the time since you died, no one has heard anything from him or his followers. Nothing for ten years."

Roxton frowned. He knew the Maanti-they'd done some trading with the Zanga and consequently a little with the explorers. They were generally peaceable, and he couldn't think of anything his group had done to upset any of the Maanti.

"How is it you're here, Anna?" he asked. While Anna's account of the attack was important, this question had been gnawing on his mind since he'd figured out who she was.

She fidgeted, and then shrugged. In for a penny…

"Uncle George kept meticulous notes about everything concerning his experiments. You know that. Well, I found a journal of his that talked about when you all went to New Amazonia. I gathered that if I studied the phenomena enough, I just might be able to use it to my advantage."

"But how could you get it to bring you here, to this moment?"

She bit her lip. "You know who Mother is, right? The Chosen One, Morrighan reincarnate?"

He nodded.

"I'm her daughter. Something of that was passed on to me. I can't do very much. It's mostly just a sense about things, and some facility with languages, though nothing approaching Mother's skill. But I do have something she doesn't have. If I concentrate enough, I can affect the world around me for just a little while. I've used it recently to trick some dinosaurs into running right at a trap we've set. So I reasoned that I might be able to use it to make the portal take me to where I wanted to go, namely, here and now."

Roxton was stunned, to say the least. Yes, he knew who his wife was and was even now witnessing a blossoming of some abilities she hadn't had before, but he'd seen no sign of it in the young Anna, and he and Marguerite thought their daughter hadn't inherited that aspect of her mother. However, according to this Anna, she had.

"How dangerous was it for you to try this?"

She averted her eyes. "Not that much."

"Anna."

"Really, it wasn't all that bad."

"Anna."

She sighed. "Very dangerous. Uncle George tried his best to talk me out of it. We didn't know for certain that it would work. I could very well have tossed myself some other time and place entirely, and been lost to my family. But how could I have not risked it, Daddy? How could I have let you die if I could at least try to stop it?"

Roxton had no answer, fully aware that in her position, he most likely would have done the same.

"I've set traps around the campsite and a little further into the jungle," Anna said, changing tack. There was precious little time to argue the merits of her actions. She had to make sure he understood what was coming and how they could possibly stop it. Roxton accepted her bald change of subject, just as aware of the passing time as Anna was. She went on to explain the nature of the traps, and Roxton listened attentively. It was quite literally his life that was on the line should he not take in everything she was saying.

When she finished, Roxton raised an eyebrow in appreciation. She was clever, and exceedingly schooled in jungle lore. Her traps would likely take a few of the attackers out of the fight, and give the explorers fair warning when they approached.

"Very clever, Anna," he said, watching a smile brighten her somewhat somber face. Yes, that was much better. He didn't like to see Anna so sad. "But let's head back to the clearing now. We need to explain this to the others, and I know your mother will want to see you."

Her eyes widened and she took a step away from him, holding her hands up as if to ward him off.

"No, Daddy, I can't," she said. "I wasn't even supposed to let you know that I'm here. There must not be too much change. If I go back with you and let Mother see me, then she, Aunt Veronica, and Uncle George will know something of the future. They could inadvertently change it to become something worse. I can't risk that, Daddy, please."

His brows lowered, but he knew that she was right. Her past might be fixed, but his and Marguerite's future was still fluid, still malleable. They could do considerable damage.

"Then if not to meet your mother, Anna, then at least come to the camp. You can stay at the edge like you were earlier. It would give me more peace of mind to know that you were nearby. I'll tell everyone that you're a native, and shy. All right?"

She considered. It was the best compromise, she supposed. She could be close to her parents, but none of the rest of the group would actually know who she was. She nodded.

"And if I'm still in the jungle, perhaps I can trip up one or two of the attackers."

Roxton's eyes narrowed.

"Don't you dare go and risk yourself, Anna," he nearly growled.

She rolled her eyes. "Just perhaps the last two, Daddy, they'd never be missed."

He frowned, but let it go and picked up the lantern and his rifle. They were off.

Marguerite was waiting anxiously at the campsite, her eyes scanning the dark jungle around them. Both Veronica and Challenger held their weapons ready. Suddenly the nearby trees rustled. Marguerite held her pistol out in front of her.

"Who's there?" she called out, ruthlessly suppressing her fear. If Roxton had met up with someone unfriendly in the darkness…She let out her breath in a great rush as her husband's voice called back to relax, he was coming towards them. She saw Roxton come forward, and stop and turn back a few feet from the camp. She watched in puzzlement as he spoke a few words to a smaller form behind him, which was keeping back in the shadows of the trees. He finally gave a sharp nod and turned back to the group, quickly covering the last few feet and entering the circle of firelight. Marguerite smiled at him, and he surprised her by gathering her into a gentle but fervent hug. She drew back.

"John?"

"It's nothing," he assured her. "Just felt like holding you."

She raised an eyebrow in amusement, and he shrugged and kissed her on her forehead.

Challenger gestured to the trees, where the shadowy form could still be seen.

"I see you made a friend, John," he commented. "Care to tell us who it is?"

Roxton turned back to look, and Anna drew back further into the trees. She could hear her heart pounding. If Veronica didn't believe him, and came after her…

"That's a native, George. Her name is An..jes. Anjes. She came to tell us something. She overheard a group of renegades from the Maanti planning on attacking us. She trusts that our group are good people, so she came to warn us."

In the jungle, Anna rolled her eyes. Anjes. Honestly. Her father had nearly blurted out her name. That wartime training he talked about had certainly gone downhill!

"She came by herself?" Veronica was skeptical. She had more experience with the Maanti than the others, and wondered why this one would wander so far, and at night, no less.

"We've always traded fairly with the Maanti. She knows that. And apparently this renegade group has worried the leaders of the Maanti for a while now. She doesn't know why they want to attack, only that she doesn't want us to be hurt."

"Why won't she come join us?" Marguerite wanted to know.

Roxton shrugged. "She's shy, I suppose. She didn't even want me to see her. Something about the order of things, I didn't quite understand it all."

Veronica nodded. As odd as the girl's behavior was, the Maanti were known for being fair and honest. The fact that the girl risked coming to warn them even at night, through the jungle, was something.

"When did she say they were planning on attacking?" she asked.

"Anjes said she heard them say around dawn. She was laying some traps around when we frightened her off. We should be able to hear them coming, especially if we stay alert. However, we should look as though we're sleeping. It could lull them into a false sense of security." The others nodded at his words, and Anna sighed in relief. They believed him; what was more, they would be ready.

She watched as they discussed the situation on voices pitched too low for her to hear. Roxton pointed out her traps to the rest of the group, and they added a few modifications of their own. They finished as the sky started to barely lighten, and settled themselves around the fire. To anyone looking in at the campsite, they looked as though they were deep in slumber. Anna, though, saw that everyone had their guns (or in Veronica's case, knives) at the ready, and were quite awake.

The sky continued to lighten, and the myriad small noises of the jungle began to increase. Anna fought to keep herself still. In spite of what her father thought, it was she and not her traps that were their first line of defense. She had to be ready the minute she heard or saw the attackers. Finally, the sun peeked over the horizon, and Anna thought she heard a rustle. Her head whipped around, and in the hazy dawn light, Anna saw several shapes creep stealthily towards the camp. She took a breath, her heart pounding in her ears. She pulled out a piece of flint and a small piece of iron pyrite that she'd stuffed in her pocket just prior to leaving home, and carefully struck them together. The sound was minimal, but a fat spark jumped lazily free and landed on the thin line of powder she'd lain. Hissing faintly, the line of fire raced along the gunpowder trail.

Without warning, a tiny explosion sounded. The attackers jumped in shock and whirled to find the source of the sound.

However, at the camp, everyone started in surprise, their eyes wide.

"That must have been on of the traps," Roxton murmured. "Be ready now. They're on their way." The group stayed still, but their grips tightened on their weapons.

Wary now, but still committed to their goal, the attackers continued towards the camp. Their eyes darted around, scanning the jungle. Finally they came close enough to see the camp. They muttered amongst themselves. Anna gritted her teeth. She rarely envied her mother's instantaneous language translation, but this was a time where understanding the words would have been very useful. She gathered, from their gestures and body language, that they still meant to attack. The fifteen men spread into a pattern similar to a crescent, no doubt to try and cut off any of the group that might run.

She saw them poise for an instant, and then, with a bone-chilling yell, they charged forward. However, for three of them, the yells changed to howls of pain as their feet found the holes Anna had made, and there was a sharp crack as bones broke protesting the strain of legs being held in place while the body kept going forward. The rest charged on, confident that they would still outnumber the explorers.

Their confidence changed to sheer incredulity as instead of sleepy people, the four explorers stood up, weapons in hand. Shots began ringing out from three of the four, and the whistle as Veronica's knives cut the air was quite audible. Anna's vine traps were quite helpful in helping Roxton and Marguerite determine where the attackers were coming from. The slap of the branches against unprotected skin gave the two targets to aim for. Anna helped again by firing at her second pile of gunpowder, which caught and killed another attacker in the blast.

By now the attackers had been reduced to six men, and they were too close to use the guns. Hand to hand combat began. Two men attacked Roxton, and he punched, hit, and kicked them. They brandished knives, and advanced on Roxton, but one suddenly dropped. Roxton looked up to see Marguerite standing there coolly, her hand slowly lowering her gun. He nodded thanks and turned back to his opponent.

They circled each other, the Maanti taking swipes at Roxton. One came close and sliced a neat line along Roxton's arm. He hissed but ignored the wound, and sprang at his attacker. They grappled and fell to the ground. Roxton grunted, then shoved the dead weight off. He'd managed to turn the other's knife as they fell, and the man had skewered himself with his own weapon.

Meanwhile, Challenger, Veronica, and Marguerite fought with their own attackers. Challenger tried to disarm the man he fought, but the native evaded him. With a yell, he charged Challenger and aimed his knife towards Challenger's heart. Challenger turned and ducked at the last moment, and his attacker's knife merely tore a long gash into his arm. Challenger shoved his pistol into the man's ribs and pulled the trigger.

After ducking a number of blows and swipes from her opponent. Veronica managed to grab hold and rolled, throwing her attacker over her head. He might have lived had he not landed on a slight rise in the ground. His neck snapped, and he exhaled his last.

The man fighting with Marguerite tried to stab her, but her loose sleeve caught the brunt of the attack and saved her from his knife. Angered, he roared and swung his arm. His fist connected with her cheek, and she was knocked down. He raised his arm and charged towards her prone form, and she raised her pistol and shot him dead in the heart. He barely missed landing on her as he fell.

The one attacker left saw an opportunity and charged towards the unprotected Roxton. To his shock, Roxton turned and saw him. He looked around at his dead fellows, and knew what he had to do. He raised his knife, preparing to fall on it and keep his secrets. So intent on this little ritual was he that he failed to notice Roxton spring forward and scoop up his rifle. He didn't see Roxton use the butt of the rifle to neatly tap him on the skull. The man's eyes rolled up in his head, and his knife slipped from his lax fingers as he fell over.

Anna watched as they fought, her heart skipping madly in her chest. She held her breath as Marguerite fought her attacker. She had warned her father, but she couldn't bear it if Marguerite died…She tore her eyes away from her mother as she saw a blur out of the corner of her eye. Her mouth dropped.

Sixteen attackers. Not fifteen, sixteen. This one had held back. She suddenly saw why. In case the main group failed, this one man was left to complete the mission. He raised a bow to his shoulder and fitted an arrow, aiming towards Roxton. Her mind whirled. There was too much foliage between her and the bowman to shoot him, and if she ran to get closer, she would waste precious time trying to get off a shot. She made a decision.

"For you, Daddy," she whispered as she dropped her gun and ran. She yelled, and the man faltered and lowered the bow slightly, but in his surprise, he let go. Just as the arrow left the bow, she darted in front of it.

She gasped as the arrow pierced her skin just past the edge of her right shoulder blade. White-hot heat lanced through her, followed by swelling pain. She felt her blood running down her back, and she fell to her knees. She blocked the pain for a moment and twisted around, her arm swinging out behind her. The bowman barely saw a flash of light before her throwing knife imbedded itself deeply in his throat. Anna saw him fall backwards with only a gurgle to announce his death. She knew that the knife she kept in her boot would come in handy.

She looked up, fighting pain and shock. Was he…had they…did it work? She struggled to pick out her father among the white spots that crowded her vision. She finally saw him club the last of the attackers over the head before the man could throw himself on his own knife. She smiled. Her father was alive! She'd done it! She finally gave in to the darkness and slid bonelessly to the jungle floor.

Roxton stood panting, bent over slightly with his hands on his knees. It was done. The attack was over, they'd all survived, and though he'd wake up with one hell of a headache, they'd managed to keep one of the attackers alive. He looked around, assessing the rest of the group. Veronica, largely unscathed, was tending to a long gash on Challenger's arm. Marguerite, breathing a bit heavily herself, smiled at him as she pushed a loose tendril of hair out of her eyes. She was sporting the beginnings of a nasty bruise on her cheekbone, and her sleeve was ripped, but she was otherwise unhurt. He closed his eyes briefly and let out a sigh of relief.

He opened his eyes to see Marguerite walking towards him. She touched his face gently when she reached him, and only then was he aware of his sore jaw. That last attacker had a mean punch. He also noted the sting as salty sweat started to settle in a scratch along his forearm. His wife cocked an elegant eyebrow.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly, her eyes wandering over his face.

He smiled at her and took her hand, softly kissing her fingers.

"Just a little worse for wear, that's all," he replied. She rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly. Leave it to Roxton to make light of any injury.

"Let Veronica have a look at that scratch anyway," she said as she started to tug him over to where Challenger sat. She glanced up at him as they walked. "Lucky for us that your friend Anjes decided to warn us."

Roxton stopped dead in his tracks. Anna! She'd stayed in the jungle to see if she could dispatch a few of the attackers. He had to go make sure she was all right! He pulled his arm free of Marguerite's grasp. She looked at him in confusion.

"Anjes," he said, worry evident in his voice. "She was in the jungle. She might have tried to stop a couple of them. I have to go see if she was hurt."

"John, wait, I'll go with you," Marguerite said, turning again towards Veronica and Challenger. "Just let me get some bandages-"

"No!" Roxton nearly shouted, startling her. She turned her head back to look at him with wide eyes.

"It's all right, Marguerite. It's just…that there may still be some danger out there. If I need help, I'll call." He disappeared into the jungle.

Marguerite scowled after him, and exchanged a glance with Veronica. They both nodded slightly, and Marguerite stooped to gather a few bandages. Her husband might want to protect her, but she wasn't about to let the bloody fool go there alone. She wasn't about to survive a large attack only to lose him to a straggler. She headed after him.

Roxton quickly found the spot where Anna had been waiting, but she wasn't there. He hissed her name, hoping that she was hiding out of sight, and a heavy weight started to settle in his stomach at her lack of response. He took a few steps into the jungle and nearly tripped over a dead native who had a knife sticking out of his throat. Roxton's eyes widened, and he started to crouch to examine the man, when a flash of pale blue caught his eye. His heart started to hammer in his chest. Hadn't Anna been wearing a blue blouse?

He raised his eyes and saw an arm clothed in blue sticking out from a patch of foliage. He straightened up and rushed over, going around the plants to see what had happened. It was Anna, lying still. His heart leapt into his throat as he looked at his daughter.

"Oh, damn," he whispered.

Oh, I know, I'm evil to stop here. :) Did Anna give her life to save her father? Will Marguerite come face-to-face with her daughter? What will the captured rebel reveal about the attack? All these answers and more are coming in Chapter 5, so stay tuned! Remember, please hit the little button and REVIEW!!!