Disclaimers: as ever.

Thanks for those reviews! Yup – I dooooooooooo miss you when you're gone ;)

Note: this story is now part of the K and A shared universe series, which so far also includes Tanya Reed's fic, Megan. Yup, we're joining forces a bit. Also, thanks to Angie for loan of some skeletons from 'Need' :) Sorry if this chapter is a bit wordy, I spent ages trying to make it work and I'm still not sure...okay, I'll shut up now.

CHAPTER EIGHT: ANCIENT SECRETS.

'Do you see anything, Syd? Besides trees and holly bushes, that is?'

It had taken several hours for Sydney and Nigel to locate four monoliths in the hidden stone circle, each marked with the sacred female number: seven. Linking them together on a map, they eventually identified what they hoped to be the midway point between them. Seeking it had taken them on a lengthy scramble, deep into the woodland.

The anticipation of the find helped them ignore the aura of sexual tension that tinged the air. Only the occasional moment of simmering eye contact, from which Sydney would avert her gaze nearly as quickly as Nigel, betrayed their shared knowledge of what had happened in the tent.

Now, keeping his fingers crossed that this was the right spot, Nigel shone his torch uncertainly ahead of him to where Sydney was thrashing her way through yet more dense undergrowth.

'Syd? Anything?'

'Yeah,' said Sydney, her voice husky and excited. 'I see something - stinging nettles, which means this ground has been…'.

'... disturbed at some point.' Nigel finished her sentence, his excitement matching hers. 'I think this is it! There is just something about this place!'

'I agree. It has a strange vibe to it. Have you noticed that the foliage here is so much thicker than in the rest of the forest?'

'Yes. There are a lot of bloody bugs too – ugh!' Nigel grimaced as he swept away a beetle that was crawling onto his hand. 'The sheer number seems strange for this time of year…' Despite his outburst, Nigel wondered if the edgy, fertile atmosphere was bolstered by a frisson of something quite unconnected with prehistoric barrows and overactive wildlife. Sydney silently wondered the same.

'Nige! I've found some sort of earthworks…and there's a rock here. It could be some sort of entrance stone.' Nigel tore to her side, shining the torch onto her discovery.

The rock was covered in lichen and moss, and hadn't been disturbed for hundreds of years. Nevertheless, it clearly hadn't evolved naturally in the boggy, flat environment of the forest.

'It's limestone!' Nigel squinted to peruse its craggy surface. 'This certainly looks like one of the front stone's of a Neolithic barrow, which means that the rest of the dolmen should be right here.' They both began tearing away bindweed and bracken. 'Yes, here's another stone' cried Nigel, uncovering evidence of a large, upright rock less than a metre away.

'And here's the top one!' Sydney knocked triumphantly against the large, stone slab that was rested across the top of the two, revealing the parameters of the entrance to the barrow. With bated breath, they began clearing away the rest of the greenery.

Nigel was momentarily distracted as his hand brushed across her slender fingers. An irresistible energy fizzed between them, jolting them both like an electric current. This time, Sydney greeted Nigel's imploring gaze, with a knowing smile. Enough was enough: she quietly vowed she would pick things up with Nigel, just where they'd been when the tent collapsed, as soon as she got an opportunity. Something really had changed.

Working fast, they soon uncovered a further stone, set in between the others, which sealed the entrance to the barrow like a locked door in its frame.

'Do you think we can crack it open?' asked Nigel, jostling in front of Sydney to give the stone a good shove.

Sydney frowned, concentrating, with some effort, on the matter in hand rather than Nigel's well-fitting pants. 'If Odo was as powerful as people say he was, he would have made sure the staff was guarded well. We should probably be mindful for traps.'

'Oh, yes, good thought,' said Nigel quickly. He took a cautionary step back, still perusing the stones intently and studiously ignoring the way that Sydney's hair provocatively tickled his face and neck as he squeezed past. Lovers or not, he was starting to worry that she would have to fire him if all this 'sparking' prevented him from doing his job! 'I've been wondering,' he said seriously. 'I sort of understand all the Earth Mother, and worship of nature stuff. But what I don't understand is why a mediaeval man of the cloth, would want to revive a cult of female worship? Do you really think he was mad?'

'I don't see why he should be,' said Sydney matter-of-factly, as she ran her fingers down the cracks between the stones, looking for any levers or irregularities. 'Women and men in the ancient world worshipped the Earth Mother, and mediaeval religion wasn't as patriarchal as many people think! Many female divines believed they could be closer to God, more Christlike, because of the suffering of the female body. Some mediaeval nuns starved themselves, much in the style of modern anorexia, to mimic Christ. They believed that in doing so they eclipsed the power of their male counterparts.' Nigel's tummy rumbled loudly at the mere thought of such abstinence, but his sincere mood prevented him from complaining.

'You don't need to tell me that women have always been powerful, Sydney. Men - decent men, that is - have always respected that…' Nigel broke off, the half playful, half yearning look in his eyes stating louder than words that Sydney would always be the Goddess of his soul. 'It just seems a little strange, that's all. Something that Carolyn said to me, made me think that Odo might not have been all that he seemed… what is it?'

Sydney was now bouncing her shoulder against the front slab, an anticipatory smile curving on her lips. 'This stone is much thinner than the rest. I don't think it's a Neolithic megalith like the others.'

'A mediaeval cover-stone?'

'I reckon so. Come, help me move it.'

Nigel squeezed in next to Sydney, and pressed his hand and chest against the stone.

'Okay? Push!'

They both shoved hard, gritting their teeth and straining until their cheeks glowed pink.

'I don't think it's going to give,' puffed Nigel, betwixt the groans that accompanied his effort.

'It'll give,' gasped Sydney, exerting herself to her limits. 'Just… push… harder!'

'Nnnnnng!'

'Aaaaaaaah!' Sydney's triumphal scream echoed around the forest. She, Nigel and the stone slab, toppled forward into the barrow, landing in the dark interior with a dull thud. Light poured into a secret space that had known nothing but the blackness of centuries, now violated by the temporarily unmoving pile of clothes, flesh and tangled limbs that was Sydney and Nigel.

Sydney had landed on top of her assistant, her legs straddling his waist, and her hands clamped eagerly against the now taut pectoral muscles of his chest. His hands rested upon her backside, where he had randomly grabbed her as they fell. In a moment of shock, his fingers quivered slightly but did not move.

'Errr, Nigel. Are you okay?' Her lips hovered inches above his.

'I…I…'

Nigel could not immediately find the words to answer. He was physically fine, he thought. He had banged the back of his head against the stone, but not too hard. Or maybe he had? Why had he not yet apologised profusely and moved his hands from their incriminating and ungentlemanly resting place? Why had the sudden, intimate proximity of his boss flung him into a breathless limbo between intense humiliation and uncontrollable desire? Surely he should listen to the portent of the ominous later stages of his dream and the tumbling tent, and withdraw his hands immediately! Then again, he was only human… and he did… care for her…and after that excruciating trek he'd just experienced through woodland…and everything that had happened earlier…

Suppressing these tormenting thoughts, Nigel found his tongue. 'I…I'm terribly sorry.' He snatched away his hands. 'I'm quite all right.'

In the gloom, he never saw Syd's mouth twitch into an ironic half-smile. More than anything, she wanted to kiss the well-formed lips that lingered so tantalisingly near hers, aesthetically illuminated in the stream of light that wandered onto his handsome face. He seemed to draw her like a magnet.

She wondered if he could tell how the feel of his body against hers had flooded her with a sensual awareness. Surely even sweet, innocent Nigel could tell by now, she mused. Suddenly wishing she had felt these emotions four years ago, she sighed internally. All that time she had wasted!

Well, not any more. Even if she had a hunt to finish, this wasn't a moment that Sydney Fox could let slip away unmarked…

As she pressed her lips against his, Sydney's hands slipped to his shoulders and began to slowly massage behind them, melting all too rigid nerves and muscles with their dexterous strokes.

She felt his hands drift up to hold her again, rather more modestly than before, molding into the small of her back.

'Syd…' Nigel moaned with an ill concealed desire as she broke away.

'Yup, something has definitely changed,' she winked. 'Come on! We've got work to do…' Grabbing Nigel by the arm, she pulled him up after her. 'Now, where's the torch. I'm dying to see what's in this barrow!'

Scrambling to find his feet, Nigel licked his lips thoughtfully and returned his mind to business. 'It in my back pocket,' he replied, pulling the flashlight from where it had been digging into him rather uncomfortably as he lay, under her, on the slab. He handed it to Sydney.

They both tingled with a very different sort of excitement from that of a minute ago, as she illuminated the interior. The air was crisp and cool against their skin, with a clear, silent ambience that seemed to belong to a much larger space, such as a cathedral.

As was typical of such barrows, the main, narrow chamber was empty and stretched ahead of them for over ten metres. The roof was low, not quite high enough to stand up straight, and supported by the same, sturdy stone flags that held up the sides. Several smaller compartments could be discerned, branching off at the sides.

'Where do you think the staff would be hidden?' asked Nigel.

'We can't be absolutely sure it's here,' admitted Sydney. 'All we know is that its whereabouts will be revealed if we are here at the barrow on the first day of spring, remember? And we need that key!' Nigel nodded in acknowledgement. 'However, this place must contain something of significance that might help.' Creeping a little further in, she shone her torch into one of the openings on the left.

'The people of the later Stone Age would have put the bones and any other relics in the side chambers,' stated Sydney. 'Sort of like…this.' She shone the flashlight into one of the side rooms.

'That's a lot of bones,' said Nigel, surveying the piles of dry, human remains, large and small, that covered the chamber floor, at the far side piled to nearly waist height. An icy shiver brushed down the back of his neck. He'd seen a lot of old bones, but as the torch lit up the gaping eye sockets of a crumbling, chalk-white skull, it reminded Nigel of his mortality, taunting his youth with the gravitas of many centuries of death. 'We better take a sample for dating,' he muttered defiantly.

'Yeah,' breathed Sydney. 'I'm pretty sure this lot are Neolithic because of the way they are loaded in.' Nigel recalled how later Stone Age people had a very different attitude to their dead from modern man, leaving their bodies decaying for all to see, and only hiding away the remains in barrows when they were reduced to mouldering skeletons.

'I was kind of hoping to see a hint of something mediaeval,' continued Sydney.

'Changes made by Odo?'

'Exactly.' The next few chambers proved to be similar to the first. It was only when Sydney reached the furthest chamber on the right-hand side that she took a step back and gasped.

There was only one set of bones in this chamber, a full skeleton, which was laid reverently on its back. A heavy gold chain, of lustrous quality, was hung around its neck. At its bottom was hung a resplendent, gold-embedded emerald.

'That jewellery has got to be 12th, maybe 13th century - and the Emerald was Odo's symbol. This is clearly a mediaeval burial…. could it be him?' Nigel automatically spoke in reverential, hushed tones.

'I have a hunch it is,' whispered Sydney.

'Gosh, he really was a pagan, choosing to be buried here, rather than in the splendour of Wintoncaster Cathedral! I can't see the staff, though.'

'Me neither.' Sydney crouched down, running her fingers along the chain, confirming its antiquity and quality. Squinting in the dim light to examine the body more closely, she detected clumps of decaying animal hair among the collapsed shoulder girdle and ribs, indicative of a mediaeval bishop's distinctive fur cape.

Nigel, having retrieved his glasses from a pocket, knelt down beside her. Syd was acutely aware of his warm breath against her neck, and of his outer thigh, brushing against hers as he lent forward to share in her discovery. Focusing, still with an effort, on the remains of the corpse, Sydney noted that the rib cage seemed petite, even for a mediaeval Englishman. She slowly scanned her analytical eyes further down the long-dead body.

Also keenly aware of her closeness, Nigel jumped as a bolt of revelation shot through her body. 'What is it?'

'Nigel, look at the shape of the pelvic bone. It's unmistakable!'

Nigel peered at the skeleton through his spectacles, and then took a sharp intake of breath: 'He's a woman!'

'Yes, it looks like she is!'

'How…why… how could a woman become a bishop in mediaeval England? The Catholic Church still doesn't allow women priests!'

'Come on Nigel,' grinned Sydney, invigorated by the discovery, 'even in the most repressive circumstances, women have found ways to gain power. Remember the story of Pope Joan?'

'The mediaeval woman who disguised herself as a man, to forge a career in the church, and who ended up as Pope? Most scholars believe that's a myth! Although the Victorians named a very popular card game after her...I have a vague recollection of playing it some time, but I don't remember when… ' Nigel blinked and shook his head rapidly, dispelling his mental wanderings.

'Myths have their realities,' countered Sydney. 'Actually, there's little evidence about Pope Joan either way. But if this is Odo, we have proof that this mediaeval bishop was a woman. And it does make a lot of sense. She used the power and riches of a position in the mediaeval church, to forward her own religion and beliefs…'

Sydney broke off arbitrarily and froze.

'What is it?' whispered Nigel, reading the look of caution that darted across her face.

'I think you'll find it's me!'

The German accent was unmistakable, and so was the tell-tale click of a pistol trigger: Reiner.

Sydney whirled around with a snarl, to see the rival relic hunter standing in the chamber behind them. He was pointing the gun randomly in their direction, and sneering superciliously.

'Stop threatening us with that thing, Reiner,' snapped Sydney. 'I know you won't shoot me.'

'I might, Sydney. I'll still have some wonderful memories of our time together. You had such passion, such skill…' A smarmy smile undulated Reiner's lips.

Sydney rolled her eyes. 'What do you want? We haven't found the staff…'

'… and how did you escape?' butted in Nigel. He turned to Sydney with a smirk. 'The last I saw him, he was writing in agony on the floor after a run-in with that blonde barmaid!'

'I found a way,' barked Reiner his good humour evaporating. He pointed the gun directly at Nigel. 'Now tell me where the key is, Sydney, or I'll shoot your blabbermouth assistant.'

Sydney cursed silently. 'We don't have the key,' she said flatly.

'You're going to tell me where it is, then,' he growled. 'And you're going to give me that necklace.'

As he spoke, Reiner shifted his aim from Nigel to indicate the necklace. Detecting her rival was momentarily off-guard, Sydney lunged forward, knocking him backwards and swiping the gun from his hand. As the weapon flew across the clay floor, Nigel scrambled after it on his hands and knees.

'Got it!'

Reiner swore loudly in German. 'You really piss me off, new guy!'

Sydney, now sitting on Reiner's chest, pinning him to the floor, smiled in mock surprise. 'You can't beat me, Reiner.' The rival opened his mouth to protest, but Sydney got in first. 'And no, you can't join me either! Nige, can you go and dispose of that stupid 'boys toy' in the nearest bog?'

'Okay.'

Even as Nigel squeezed past them on his way to get rid of the gun, the amused curl of Reiner's lip, and the treacherous glint in his eye, warned Sydney that she was about regret this decision: her gut suddenly told her that Reiner wasn't working alone.

'Nigel…wait!'

An instant later, there came a thud and a soft moan.

With a growl of frustration, Syd launched herself up and hurtled out of the barrow. Nigel had fallen flat on his back onto the ground, and was attempting to prop himself up on one elbow, rubbing his head distractedly. The gun was no longer in his hand.

In the same split second, she sensed the enemy – whoever they were - coming at her from the side.

She swung into a punch. The blow was blocked, and swiftly followed by a karate chop to her stomach. She staggered backwards, jarring her injured ankle, and clutching her middle. Her aghast eyes absorbed the sight of…

'Tess!'

The blonde barmaid, and karate expert, now had the gun pointed straight at her. Sydney knew that she couldn't be as sure as she was with Reiner, that this female nemesis would not shoot her.

'Hello again, Professor Fox!' Tess glanced across at Nigel and added: 'Sorry, angel, but I needed the gun back.'

'Meet my new girl, Sydney.' Reiner emerged from the darkness, looking very smug indeed.

'So that's how you escaped,' began Nigel. 'How much did you offer her?'

He was silenced by Tess, snapping to Reiner: 'I'm not your girl, you pathetic slug. And you've just proven to me that you can't carry out the simplest task, let alone help me find this thing. You're not worth your 40 percent of the cut… what's that you're hiding?'

Reiner looked sheepish, but pulled out the necklace from behind his back. 'I take 60 percent, as agreed,' barked Tess. 'Now!' Here she addressed Sydney. 'The key's still 'in' the pony, right? Where's the pony?'

'I don't know,' replied Syd gruffly.

Tess brandished the gun menacingly. 'Don't mess about. I must have this key!'

Sydney didn't move. 'Why are you joining forces with Reiner? I thought the sisterhood wanted the staff to save the forest, not to cut a deal with some broke grave robber?'

'I am not broke,' whined Reiner. Everyone ignored him.

Tess shrugged. 'I worship the Earth Mother because she empowers me. I realise now that the sisterhood will never dare use the greatest of her powers, and will be too weak to even save themselves. So I'm going it alone! But even the Great One could do with a little help from the other powers in this world: money…and force. So tell me where the pony is!'

'She really doesn't know,' jutted in Nigel, finally clambering to his feet. His pleading tone was underlain by a hint of frustration. 'It was my fault - we lost it. I fell asleep when I was supposed to be watching the bloody thing. He could be anywhere by now.'

Tess smiled lasciviously as she glanced at the object of her affection, and for a split-second she wondered if she could bear to carry out her plans for the next twenty four hours. Nigel looked pale and exhausted, his woolly jumper soggy and wet, and he was still lacking a coat after the previous night's adventures. To top it all, his clothes and skin were flecked with mud.

Sydney's fists clenched, as the blonde's eyes flashed with a venomous desire.

'Ah well,' sighed the barmaid still transfixed by Nigel, 'at least I know where you are now…'

Capitalising on the millisecond of distraction, Sydney's right hook hit home, impacting hard on Tess's jaw. Nearly crumpling under the force, Tess screamed and fired.

Bang!

The shot flew wide, as Sydney had gambled it would. A bullet soared into the darkening sky, sending roosting birds squawking and flapping in all directions. She grabbed for the gun, but Tess was fast: she wrenched her hand free, and retook her potentially fatal aim.

Sydney suppressed a snarl of frustration. 'If you really want the staff found, you'd be better off letting us both go. We're the only ones who will be able to find the pony.'

Tess slowly wiped the blood on her bottom lip, blending it gruesomely with her makeup, 'Giles Appleforth knows which one it is,' she muttered dryly, 'and I can't see it would be hard to make him break. Besides, Nigel is 'the one:' he knows it, and Carolyn knows it. If the pony is found, I will need him later for the ritual.'

Sydney's features turned deadly grave, set like granite: 'What the hell do you mean?'

'So, he didn't tell you about his little history, then? It seems you two have secrets after all! I suppose he didn't tell you about all the fun he had last night either …'

'You lie,' stated Sydney, everything but her lips motionless. Tess narrowed her eyes. Why hadn't her allegations provoked more of a reaction from either of her opponents?

The tiniest scuffle of Nigel's boots in the dry leaves betrayed him. Suddenly dropping her aim, Tess lunged to the right and seized him by the collar. Sydney's assistant squeaked and dropped the small log with which he had surreptitiously intended to whack the barmaid. Before Sydney could act effectively, Tess had pushed Nigel in front of her, and stuck the gun to his head.

'Now, into the barrow! Both of you!'

Sydney suspected she was bluffing, but daren't take any risks. Warily holding her hands up, she backed under the entrance.

The opportunity to strike back never came before Tess shoved Nigel through the door after her. He fell straight into Sydney, nearly knocking them both back down into the dirt.

'Ooof!'

'Sorry.' Nigel backed away quickly from the unintended embrace. 'But it isn't true! I didn't enjoy anything when I wasn't with you. Please believe me...'

'It's okay,' breathed Sydney, although she was desperate to ask him what exactly he had kept concealed from her. 'I do believe you.'

Tess waved the gun at them from the entrance. 'If either of you comes out of the barrow, I'll shoot!' Then she disappeared.

For a moment, Sydney could not work out her plan. There was no way anybody could re-lift that stone flag that she and Nigel had pushed over. She heard a strange grinding noise, and a feminine grunt, and then the awful truth hit her: Tess was trying to destabilise the three stones that held up the entrance to the barrow.

The thought occurred to Nigel at about the same time. 'Sydney, she's mad! If this thing comes down the whole roof could cave in. Just like the tent…'

'… but this place isn't made of canvas! I'll think of something,' hissed Sydney. Her usually confident voice was strained and thin. She reached out and squeezed his hand.

Just as abruptly as Tess had vanished, Reiner appeared in the spot she had vacated, peering in and looking ever so slightly apologetic.

'Sorry, but this necklace is worth a lot of money. And so will that staff be, when we find it… '

Sydney wanted to slap him, but gritted her teeth and managed a sweet smile: 'Yes, I know, you're broke as ever. But surely we can come to some understanding? You need me to find the staff.'

'I need money, Sydney!'

She dropped her voice to an undertone: 'Pushing those stones in might bring down the whole barrow. How could you live with that?' She batted her eyelids: 'Remember that igloo? I've never been so warm…' Sydney sensed Nigel bristle at her flirtatious conduct. Reiner smirked again, but appeared unmoved.

Sydney knew her next words were useless, but she thought she'd try them anyway: 'How could you destroy in a moment something that has stood for over 4000 years?'

'But worth nothing!'

'Reiner! You could kill us! '

'No! I don't think so. Tess has other plans…'

The conversation was cut short as Tess ordered Reiner away, and demanded that he 'push…or else!'

There was a terrible grinding noise. Sydney threw herself to the floor, bundling Nigel in front of her. As he turned to hug her, throwing his arms around her waist, she instinctively crouched over him, sheltering his body under hers. 'There's nothing,' thought Sydney, 'nothing that can come between us. No lying words, no stupid rival. Nothing has changed there…'

There was an agonising crunching, and then an almighty crash. The light was extinguished as the air filled with a thick, dry dust; the stone slabs that held up the roof above them groaned like ancient trees bracing against a gale force wind. Sydney buried her face in Nigel's damp hair, and held her breath. Her heart galloped so wildly she could hear the blood churning in her ears.

The noise was followed by a deafening silence.

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