Chapter 4

Gabrielle followed after her husband as he moved through the house, gathering things for his journey.

"Are you absolutely sure?" she asked for the umpteenth time.

David wheeled about and fixed Gabriele with a knowing stare.

"Honey!" he blurted sharply. "I know a message when it thunks me over the damn head!"

He stepped over to the mantle and drew down his katana, half drawing the blade to ensure that it was still functional after years of rest.

"Something big has happened to them," he continued. "Big and bad! Alia wouldn't have sent the message if she wasn't desperate!"

He pushed past her towards the bedroom. "There could be very little time. If I leave now, Prospero could get me there in two days – three tops!"

He paused when he opened the large chest at the foot of their bed. He drew out several articles of clothing and began shrugging out of his own clothes.

He changed into a worn pair of denim pants that might at one time have been black, now faded to gray. An old leather belt, to which he affixed the buckler that held his katana, and lastly, his most prized possession. A worn, beaten old leather biker jacket of modern design. He shrugged the old garment over his shoulders and frowned.

"Damn," he said. "Most people bitch about things shrinking in storage? This feels big?"

Gabrielle chuckled in spite of herself. "You were a little heavier when you first came to me, David."

David grinned. "See, you have been good for me?"

Gabrielle smiled, and then her expression sobered. "You're sure about this?"

David fixed her with a knowing stare.

"Fine," Gabrielle held up her hands in submission. "Fine, fine." She moved to her dresser and began pulling out articles of her own. "Then saddle up Sapho and Prospero because I'm coming with you."

"Like hell," David countered. "The kids should be back in a couple of days. One of us should be here when they arrive?"

Gabrielle laughed and shook her head. "Nice try, love," she said. "But I can leave them a note. I'm coming with you. In for a penny, in for a pound, remember?"

David sighed. "After twenty-five years, you're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

Gabrielle stuffed her extra clothing into her old small traveling bag and kissed him on the cheek.

"Nope." She said flatly. "I'll pack us some extra food for the trip."

"I should have kept my damned mouth shut," David grumbled once she was gone.

He rolled up a couple of the blankets and lashed the whole pack together.

"I heard that!" Gabrielle called from the other room.

Grumbling to himself, David marched out to the barn and began getting the horses ready.

Sapho raised her head in greeting when he entered. She was a chestnut brown mare, tall and proud, with eager brown eyes, and a nervous energy. She stamped impatiently when she saw David grabbing the saddles and other gear.

This got Prospero's attention. He had been munching on some oats contentedly, his dark black main hanging like a curtain along his strong, smooth neck.

He raised his head and fixed David with a knowing look.

When David led Sapho out of her stall, he nickered in protest.

"Hey there!" David replied. "You know the rules. Ladies first."

Prospero shook his head and waited, occasionally stamping his hoof as if to hurry his master along.

Like his owner, Prospero was large and powerful, dark as midnight, except for a single diamond patch of white on his nose and tufts of white fur at the base of his legs.

He jerked his head enthusiastically when David finally brought him out of his stall and began setting the gear on his back.

"What do you think, big guy?" David asked gently as he tightened the saddle into place.

"We got enough for one more trip?"

Prospero looked back at him as if to say "I don't know about you, but I do?"

Gabrielle smiled when she saw him leading the two animals out of the barn. Just in the act of preparing for a journey, she thought David looked twenty years younger.

She was mildy surprised at the ease with which he climbed aboard the big black charger.

He sat there, tall and proud, his hair shining like silver in the sunlight.

She smiled.

"What?" David asked, feeling his own grin pull at his lips.

Gabrielle blinked up at him. "Just admiring the view."

David reached down and adjusted his boot in the stirrup.

"Come on," he chuckled.

The two of them trotted out of the yard and down the main road leading into town.

As they passed the inn, Salius came out and began to smile broadly.

"Well!" he exclaimed. "There's a sight I haven't seen since I was a lad!"

"Sal," David replied. "If Xena and Alexander get back before us, tell them we're heading to Tripolis. We'll be back in a few days. Tell them to stay put!"

"As if they'd ever listen," Salius retorted.

David shrugged. "Just tell them. We'll send word if there's a problem."

Salius waved his hand in acknowledgement.

When they reached the top of the small hill, outside of the village, David suddenly reigned back on Prospero and turned to look back down at the peaceful valley.

As he looked at the small cluster of stone structures, dotted here and there with golden thatched roofs, the image changed suddenly.

He realized that he was standing in the same spot he would occupy in the future, looking down at a series of half unburied foundations ruined, age worn stones all cordoned off by long yellow ropes and dotted with tiny orange flags. He sighed.

The image flashed again. This time, he saw the village in ruins, smoke rising from the charred remains of those golden roofs, and bits of broken stone lying scattered in the dark grasses, like a large vase that had fallen and shattered upon stone.

He caught his breath in surprise. Just as quickly, the image was gone and he once again beheld the tranquil sight of his home.

"Hey?" Gabrielle asked gently. "You okay?"

David forced a sudden knot of unease back down. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

He turned Prospero back and the two of them headed down the well worn road.

Nothing moved, not even the air. Hope looked from her quarry to the stranger in the blue robes and back again.

Xena edged forward, ready to attack, while Eve and Alexander tensed, prepared to grab the stretcher and bolt with Alia in tow.

Mystros's hand gently clasped Xena's forearm.

"Wait for it," he whispered.

Hope looked at the newcomer, a strangely curious expression on her face. This man seemed so calm, so self assured that she actually found it amusing.

The Rakshasa ignored her completely, his flinty eyes coming to rest on Mystros. A gentle smile touched his lips.

"Enough of this, Inures," he said in an almost fatherly tone. "It's time to come home."

"And what are you supposed to be?" Hope asked impatiently.

The stranger smiled patiently. "I have no quarrel with you, child."

Hope blinked in surprise and then several of the weapons pointed at her prey turned and pointed at the Rakshasa.

To this, the Rakshasa merely raise an amused eyebrow.

"Do you intend to fight me, child?" he asked in that slow, deliberate baritone. "Even kill me?"

"Here it comes," Mystros whispered. "Be ready. Trust nothing you see." Then the healer simply closed his eyes, frowning in concentration.

There was a rippling sensation and then the Rakshasa vanished. Hope frowned, her eyes darting back and forth, seeking this new adversary. He emerged from behind a nearby tree, his hands tented in the sleeves of his robe.

"Your greatest weakness," he said amicably. "Is your impatience."

Suddenly, he also stepped out from behind another nearby bush, that same, amicable smile on his face as he stared at the first Rakshasa.

"It counters your greatest strength," he continued. "You're raw power."

"Still," A third figure stepped into view. "The primary issue is not your power, or lack of patience."

Then a fourth appeared off to the other side.

"It seems, to me, to be this unquenchable desire to gloat over your potential victims."

Then a fifth figure.

"While, I myself, can appreciate the need to drive home a point, especially when victory is all but assured."

And a sixth came strolling forward, materializing out of thin air.

"It is usually most beneficial when you truly understand your opponent, and can anticipate any possible defensive stratagems."

And seventh.

"Overconfidence in one's abilities, has been the downfall of many more powerful than you, child."

Hope, the priests, and Xena and her party watched this with growing fascination and confusion. The seven Rakshasa each moved independently, fixing Hope with that soft, interminable smile.

"In allowing yourself to be so assured," One of them began. "You have granted your opponent the opportunity to prepare a defense."

"And thereby, shift the balance out of your favor." Another one finished.

Hope's gaze frosted over with anger. She waved her hand in the direction of the six figures. Weapons whistled through the air at their targets, passed through them, and vanished in a flash of fire.

"Pointedly crude and useless, child," One of the Rakshasa said. "You have the delicacy of a raging bull."

Another of the Rakshasa smiled as he surveyed the ring of priests surrounding Xena and her friends.

"You have followers, yes," he smiled. "But what good are followers, if they cannot follow?"

Cries of sudden panic burst from some of the priests as a subtle crunching noise was heard. As each of them looked down they beheld their feet taking root, like trees, or going the color of hard, immovable stone.

Hope looked about in rising anger. Her cold eyes returned to her opponent, as if they would burn him where he stood – all seven of him.

"Clever," she nodded, a wicked smile curling on her lips.

"But for you," One of the Rakshasa said. "Something a bit less subtle will be required."

Hope raised her arms, her hands wreathed in fire. She stretched her hands out, and a line of flame lashed out towards the nearest target, passed through it and exploded, obliterating the figure.

"One down," she growled. "Five to go."

"Boldly spoken," the Rakshasa replied. Then dozens of copies flashed into existence in a matter of a few seconds, here and there, strolling about, and all eyes locked on the young blonde girl.

Mystros let out a sudden cry of release, and pounded the end of his walking stick against the earth.

The ground rippled outward, like water, and the shock wave sent everyone sprawling to the earth.

"Quickly!" Mystros cried out.

Xena, Mystros, Eve and Alexander all bolted for the nearby trees. Alexander and Eve carried the stretcher, while Xena followed behind, covering their desperate escape.

The illusory Rakshasa all vanished, leaving the original standing before a prone Hope. Her smile widened as she jumped to her feet and drew back, ready to deliver the killing blow.

Xena just reacted, hurtling the chakram. Hope saw the approaching weapon out of the corner of her eye, and at the last moment, turned and the bolt meant for the Rakshasa intercepted the weapon. There was a flash and a roar, and Xena felt something slam into her body, pounding her back to the ground. The world flashed once in her eyes and everything went dark.

Alia moaned quietly as she bounced on the stretcher despite Eve and Alexander's attempt to measure speed with care.

Once they were clear of the fray, they slowed to a halt. Only then, did Alexander realize, with horror, that they were short one member.

"Where's Xena?" He asked. His eyes gazed expectantly back down the rough path they had followed.

Mystros only offered a pained look in response.

"Oh hell no," Alexander said, his gaze darkening.

"Alexander, wait!" Eve quickly stepped in front of him. "I'm sure she's okay. One thing about my mom – your sister," she smiled. "Is that she knows how to take care of herself. Right now, we need to get Alia somewhere safe, away from Hope and the Rakshasa, and whoever else is after us."

She placed a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder. "We need your help, Alexander." She finished gently.

Clearly torn between his loyalty to his family and his desire to do the right thing, Alexander finally nodded and sighed. "Okay. Lets get a little more distance between us and them, then."

Gently, the lifted Alia's stretcher and resumed their march.

Mystros constantly looked behind them, as if hoping to see their missing companion come jogging up behind or dreading that their unearthly hunters might do the same. He sighed.

"I am sorry," he finally admitted, looking at Alexander. "I should have done more."

Even at the odd angle, he saw the pained expression on the young mans face.

"I should have grabbed hold of her, or,"

"She'd likely have broken your arm," Alexander admitted. His torment was a palpable sensation in the air. "You did what you could."

They had not traveled more than a couple of hours when they heard a sound that filled them with fear. Horses approaching from ahead of them. The rhythmic falls of the hooves rolling like distant thunder.

Alexander considered for a moment. "Only two of them," he said, his expression darkening. "We can take them before they know what hit them."

"Let's get off the road," Eve agreed.

They lifted Alia up into concealment on a small rise and then hid among the bushes.

The approaching hooves rose in volume, and then two riders came into view.

As Eve looked down at them, recognition set in almost at once and she smiled.

She and Alexander stood up at the same time.

"Gabrielle?" Eve called out.

"Dad!" Alexander cried at the same time.

David and Gabrielle halted and looked up at the rise.

"Alex!" David sighed in relief. He jumped from the horse and embraced his son.

Gabrielle was a little slower to dismount, her eyes locked on the younger woman standing above her.

"Eve," She breathed. Then she smiled and also dismounted, embracing the younger woman. "By the Gods! Look at you!"

David looked over at the other man, slowly emerging from concealment.

"And who is this?" he asked.

Alexander made the introductions and then Gabrielle knelt alongside the stricken Alia.

"Well?" David asked after a few minutes.

Gabrielle sighed. "She's bad. We need to get her somewhere safe."

"I fear nowhere is safe for you as long as you are in my company," Mystros sighed. He suddenly looked at Eve.

"I should go away for a while," he offered. "This is all being visited upon you because of me. If I am gone, perhaps the Rakshasa and the others will not trouble you?"

"Don't even say that!" Eve shot back.

"Gabrielle," A week voice said. Gabrielle looked down and saw Alia's eyes open, looking up at her.

"Quiet now," Gabrielle said gently, but Alia managed to raise a hand and pull the older woman closer, whispering in her ear.

After a few moments, Alias arm slid from behind Gabrielle's neck and the Amazon queen lay staring up into the trees, the light gone from her eyes.

When Gabrielle looked up, her face was pale from growing horror and tears stung her eyes.

"She," Gabrielle choked suddenly.

David was at her side instantly. He smiled sadly and closed Alia's eyes.

"Hope's back," Gabrielle whispered in dread.

David wrapped his arm about her shoulders. "Did she say anything else?"

Gabrielle nodded. "She said, the circle is closing."

"The circle is closing?" Alexander repeated. "What does that mean?"

"Why don't you bring me up to speed," David replied.

Quickly, Alexander filled his parents in on the event leading up to their meeting, including the disappearance of his sister.

Gabrielle and Eve watched as David's gaze went from concern to one of determined anxiety.

"David?" Gabrielle asked.

"We'll bury Alia here," David said quickly. "Then the rest of you, head back towards home."

Then he looked at Gabrielle with a fire that she had not seen for many years.

"I'm going to go find our daughter."

"I'm coming with you," Alexander volunteered.

David shook his head. "I need you to keep an eye on them and make sure they get home safely. I got this."

"You sure?" Alexander asked.

David fixed his son with a dark stare, which was all Alexander needed. He raised his hands in surrender and nodded.

"Alright," he acknowledged. "I'll see you at home."

"Two days," David continued. He handed Prospero's reigns to his son "If we don't make it back by then, get out of dodge, got it?"

"How?" Gabrielle began. Then she smiled knowingly. "Never mind. You'll find us."

The first thing she realized, as consciousness slowly returned, was that she wasn't dead. No one can be dead and have the pounding headache she was feeling.

Xena's eyes fluttered open and she saw the thick branches of trees swaying above her in the breeze. Sunlight sparkled in her eyes. She winced and a soft groan escaped her lips.

She looked to one side and saw the form of the Rakshasa, kneeling upon a small, rectangular carpet, his body facing east, his head nearly touching the soft grass.

His fire blue robes gleamed in the sunlight seeming to cover him in a rippling corona of energy.

Instantly, the headache was replaced by an adrenaline surge. She instructively reached for her weapons as she jumped to her feet, and was mildly surprised to discover that she still possessed them. Her sword rang free with a metallic note.

Instead of matching her quick move, the Rakshasa bowed his head slightly closer to the earth and then rose gracefully to his feet. He stooped and carefully lifted his small carpet from the ground, rolling it gently into a neat little pack.

Then he turned and smiled, nodding to her cordially.

The rolled carpet vanished in a soft flash and the Rakshasa folded his hands within the sleeves of his robe.

"Where are we?" Xena asked, her eyes glancing around at the unfamiliar clearing.

"Somewhere safe, for the present," The Rakshasa said gently. "I felt we should get away from the child of Dahok, lest she attempt to continue our little confrontation when she, too regained consciousness."

"Okay," Xena nodded.

"Also, I wished to speak with you, if that will be permitted?" he looked at the sword in her hand. "Did you save my life only because you feel you should have the right to take it?"

He stepped over to a fallen log and seated himself deliberately. After a few moments of watching Xena, he sighed. "If you intend to strike, then please, do so. Or, we can talk."

"What do we have to talk about?" Xena asked.

"A great deal," The Rakshasa replied easily. "Please?" he asked again, indicating Xena's drawn weapon. "I have done no harm to you, or any that you love."

Xena considered that for a moment and slowly sheathed her weapon. "No, I guess you haven't.
The Rakshasa gave a subtle nod and watched her expectantly.

"Then why are you here?" Xena asked.

"I am here to return that which does not belong on your plane of existence," The Rakshasa said evenly.

"You mean Mystros," Xena replied.

"Inures," The Rakshasa corrected her. "He is Inures, Son of Indrajed, whatever he chooses to call himself. He does not belong among you."

"Even if he has changed?" Xena asked.

At this, the Rakshasa gave a little grunt. His smile became something more sympathetic then humorous.

"It is the age old question," he said. "Can any creature, born unto an element of evil, not seek redemption?"

"You don't think they can," Xena replied.

"I know it to be a fact." The Rakshasa replied. "To change in such away is to remove the very purpose for which we were created. The universe does not allow for this."

"At all?" Xena asked.

"At all." The Rakshasa repeated emphatically. "The Divine Oma allows for replacement, for we are the tools of the Devine. Sometimes those tools need to be replaced, yes, but our function – our purpose – is unchangeable."

The Rakshasa looked again at Xena's weapon.

Reluctantly, Xena sheathed her sword, though she did not sit when her host gestured her to do so.

"Inures is the Son of Indrajed," The Rakshasa explained. "As such, he inherited all of the desires of his father. It is the way of things."

"He was destined to take Indrajeds place," Xena nodded.

"He has taken Indrajeds place, child," The Rakshasa replied. "Along with all of his powers, though he does not yet realize it in truth. As such, he has also inherited the ancient conflict between himself and the Avatar of Oma. I have no doubt that he could manifest himself in his fathers' image if it served his purposes. At present, it does not."

"How so?"

"Consider the benefits of his current course of action," The Rakshasa explained. "At the moment of his father's death, he became his father. Yet, he used his position and power to pursue that which his father failed to acquire, and in so doing placed himself in the perfect position to gain that which his father was unable to achieve."

Xena felt a small knot of dread begin to churn in her belly.

She was about to ask another question when the Rakshasa held up a hand to forestall her, his eyes focused on the forest off to his right.

"Someone approaches," he whispered. "Please, remain silent and they will pass."

As they watched, two of Hope's acolytes came into view, their eyes scanning the surroundings, obviously searching for something, or someone. Their pale eyes turned and stared straight at Xena and her strange companion, looking right through them, completely oblivious to their presence.

Something cracked off to the side of the interlopers, and they turned, their bodies tense for attack.

They edged forward.

"We have you now, pretty," one of them chuckled.

In a sudden flurry of movement, a figure slipped up between them. There was a silver flash of a sword and the first went down without as much as a breath. The second turned and impaled himself on the curved blade. His pale eyes went wide before the blade ripped upward.

The priest fell in a heap.

Xena saw the long silver hair and the battered old leather. She would have cried out in relief if the Rakshasa had not bade her to be silent, pressing two fingers gently to her lips.

David stood still, breathing hard.

"Not as spry as I used to be," he muttered. Then he turned and looked straight at Xena and her host – and actually saw them.

He faced the robed man, smiling.

"Hi there," he growled. "I came for my daughter."

At this, Xena saw the Rakshasa smile in appreciation.

"I suggest you back off, pal," David growled.

The Rakshasa let his hands rise in surrender and he nodded. "Most impressive. Few are those who can see beyond my illusions."

The man stepped a few paces away and reseated himself on the log.

"Smartest thing you ever did," David nodded. He gestured to Xena. "Come on honey, let's get out of here."

"I'm curious, Master?" The Rakshasa asked suddenly. "How is it that an infidel can see through my illusion?"

"Trade secret," David replied shortly as Xena stepped over to him.

"Indeed," the Rakshasa nodded again.

"Dad, wait," Xena said quickly. "You need to hear what he has to say."

David frowned. "And just what do we need Tony the Tiger for?"

At the word 'Tiger', the Rakshasa's eyebrow rose in surprise while Xena only offered a frown of confusion.

"You see past all illusions, Master?" the Rakshasa asked.

"Most of them," David replied. "More so now than in the past."

At this, the Rakshasa's expression became sympathetic – almost regretful. "I understand."

Xena looked between her father and the robed figure seated on the log.

"Well, I don't," she said at last. She looked up at her father. "What are you seeing that I'm not seeing?"

"He is seeing my true form, Xena," The Rakshasa replied evenly, and that smile reappeared.

"Show her," David ordered.

The figure on the log seemed to shimmer, rippling like a reflection in a stream.

Xena's mouth dropped open in astonishment as the figure of the handsome young man was replaced by something much more terrifying.

Thick fur appeared, alternating in slashes of brilliant orange and black.

The hands fattened and became almost catlike, with long, sharp claws. The face seemed to stretch and widen, assuming more feline features, covered with the same brilliant orange and black, except for the soft white beneath the cat like muzzle. The clear dark eyes became a soft, gentle golden color.

The humanoid figure rose and reached upward in a catlike stretch. Something like a deep rumbling purr emanated from his throat, and he looked again at David.

It seemed that he was about to say more, but he paused. Instead, he simply nodded. "You know of my kind?"

"I've heard a few things," David replied. "Though I've never seen one of you before."

The Rakshasa nodded his head.

"So," David continued. "Aside from your half sister showing up again, what the hell is happening?"

As Xena quickly recapped her side of events, David's eyes rolled skyward.

"Great Goddess protect us," he moaned. "This is the man I left with them?"

"I fear it is, Master," the Rakshasa replied.

"We have another problem," Xena added quickly. "Eve is in love with Mystros –I mean Inures."

"Scuse me?" David asked, while at the same time, the Rakshasa asked. "What?"

Xena looked at the two of them. "My daughter is in love with Inures."

"Í fear Inures has worked many things to his advantage," The Rakshasa said. "Including bringing you into conflict with your own blood."

"I can handle Eve," Xena replied. "Despite all this," she indicated her reincarnated self, "I am still her mother. She'll listen to me."

"For her sake," the Rakshasa said. "I hope you are correct."

"How far ahead are they?" Xena asked David.

David considered for a moment. "They'll have about a day on us when they get home."

"Think mom can handle him?" Xena pressed nervously.

"I'm not worried about that," David replied. "If Inures is truly trying to bring about the downfall of the Elijans, he's in the perfect place to do it, and, he won't want to stay hidden from Hope for very long. He'll be looking to stir the pot as much as he can before going over to her. The thing that I'm worried about is that he'll leave a trail for Hope to follow, right back home."

"You think he is seeking some form of alliance with Dahok?" The Rakshasa asked.

"I'd bet on it," David replied. "The old pantheons are either dead or disbanded. The old 'borders', if you will, no longer apply. An alliance would accomplish two things. First, it would give Dahok a foothold on the gods of India and might even aid in overthrowing them. Second, it guarantees that Inures will get to stick around, at least in the short term."

"So he's looking to cover his own back," Xena nodded.

"I think he's looking at surviving," David replied. "At any cost."

"And the Child of Dahok?" The Rakshasa asked. "What of her?"

"She's the go between," Xena answered after a moment. "She's here to make sure Inures is sincere. If she can get a little revenge along the way, so much the better, and Inures would be more than willing to help, since this would be right up his alley."

"Uh people," David said as he moved away. "We have a psycho-masochistic demon paired up with the daughter of hell, all very close to our family. Lets walk and talk at the same time, okay?"

As they moved quickly down the path, Xena moved closer to the Rakshasa.

"You were going to say something to my father, when you realized that he could see past your illusion of –" she stopped. "Well, when you looked like one of us. What were you going to say?"

The Rakshasa looked down at her and something like a soft growl issued from his throat.

"Very few people can see so clearly, except at certain times in their cycle of life," he explained. "Your father can see me because, at this time, his cycle may be drawing to a close."

Xena's eyes widened and she looked at her father, moving quickly ahead of them. In spite of his advancing years, he still moved with fluidity and grace of men twenty years his junior.

"Drawing to a close," Xena repeated. "You mean he's going to die."

"All mortals die, Mistress Xena," The Rakshasa replied gently. "It is the way of the Great Cycle."

Something settled in Xena's belly like a dull weight. Her eyes followed the man walking before her, tall, proud, no sign of infirmity. David was a picture of health.

She shook the idea away. The very thought was ridiculous.

"He's not going to die," she replied to the Rakshasa. "My father is a very powerful priest, that's why he could see you."

The Rakshasa's expression did not change.

"Of course," he answered easily. "That must be it."

Something in the mute tone of the Rakshasa's reply did nothing to alleviate the knot in her belly.

"That has to be it!" Xena forced the thought through her mind, obliterating all the others. "Yes, that must be it."