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What had once been a great bonfire was now burned low, towering gouts of flame reduced to a pile of embers that glowed blood red, like snake’s eyes in the night. Isolated tongues of baleful blue licked at the tag-ends of mopane wood that jutted from the mound of ashes, stirred by an intermittent cool breeze. The moon, two days from full, hung low in the sky, like an orange-gold portal to another world, casting a burnished glow on the world. The stillness of the night was broken by a woman’s voice, thick with emotion.
“The young couple fled blindly into the forest, not caring what lay ahead, only wanting to get away from whatever had rocked the chariot. It wasn’t until they stopped to rest at daybreak that they saw the true horror of what had happened. “
The intensity of her voice thickened into a sense of frantic urgency.
“In the first rays of dawn, they could see the mark, not of a hand, but of a metal hook.”
The tense silence that followed was split by the faraway howl of a wolf. When the howl faded, the quietness’ only rival was the pop of burning wood and the crackling snap of sparks floating up to join the moon.
“Well, what did you think?” Eve asked expectantly.
Gabrielle pursed her lips for a moment, trying to think of a diplomatic way to say what she was thinking.
“Good job setting the mood,” she said finally. “You have a real flair for the dramatic, and I’d definitely give the wolf bonus points for the assist, but I heard that one when I was a little girl, and it wasn’t really scary then. Nice try, though.”
It was a hard, twisty road the two had traveled to get here, but they had arrived with hours to spare and had opted to while away the remaining time swapping stories. What better way to pass the time until the equinox arrived and All Souls’ Night began? The Battling Bard and Messenger of Light were on a mission, but patience was required now, not vigilance. Nothing could happen until the moon was high.
“Neither of us is having any luck scaring the other,” Eve commented sadly, resting her elbows on her knees. “With all the adventures you and mother had, there must be something you know that would do the trick.”
“Let’s see,” Gabrielle said thoughtfully, making a mental checklist of her brushes with the supernatural. “You were with us when the gateway to Hell opened up in Amphipolis, the Bacchae have been done to death, and I’d rather not go into my family’s affairs, but I think there are one or two little tidbits I could dredge up.”
She stared absently into the fire’s smoky remains and rested her chin on her hands.
“I’m not sure if this is exactly what you mean. In retrospect, it’s not that scary, but at the time I sure thought we were both goners.”
“All right,” Eve grinned, shifting into a more comfortable position. “I’m game. Just don’t dress up another one of those childhood ghost stories again.”
“Oh, this is no ghost story,” Gabrielle protested. “For one thing, it wasn’t a dark and stormy night. This started in broad daylight, and in a desert, of all places.”
She scowled at the recollection.
“I've never liked deserts,” she admitted. “Never known anything good to come out of going there, and that’s just where this started: running in the desert. Running for our lives…”
Late afternoon sunshine cut through a cloudless sky, blasting the desert. All around the shimmering rim of the mirage-laden horizon sand and sand alone was visible, bordered by the sun on one side and death on the other. It would be hard to conjure the image of a more inhospitable place than the merciless sea of rolling dunes.
In the far distance of this arid sandscape, two tiny specks crested a dune and disappeared into the adjoining ravine. Moments later, they topped the next dune and disappeared again. As they came over the third ridge of sand, the dots resolved themselves into the figures of two women, streaming sweat, fleeing an unseen pursuer.
The Warrior Princess and the (at that time) Sidekick Bard had been playing a game of cat-and-mouse with a Roman patrol for two days now. Fame’s unwelcome half-sister was notoriety, and Xena had a price on her head throughout Roman-controlled territories.
Bare hours before, the pair of Greeks had casually sauntered into the open end of a box canyon, and run into more Legionnaires than either of them had ever seen before. It was a masterpiece of understatement to say the local garrison commander had grown weary of their presence and had amassed enough soldiers to tackle a Macedonian phalanx. The two women had chosen discretion as the better part of valor, and cowardice as the better part of discretion, taking to their heels and running like Hell itself was behind them.
“I think we lost them,” Gabrielle managed to gasp out between wheezes.
A Roman pilum, the shortened throwing spear favored by Caesar’s legions, whistled past, giving the lie to her statement.
“Wishful thinking,” Xena spat, then pointed to the left. “That way. The ground’s rockier. We may find a place to lay low.” It had taken her almost five minutes to gather enough spare wind to speak aloud.
Although the Warrior Princess was a consummate fighter and the young Bard’s battle skills were vastly improved, neither was a sprinter, and that was what they had done all afternoon. A heartbeat after they changed direction, a handful of arrows plunged into the sand behind them.
As they pelted northward, a vague smudge appeared on the horizon. A few dunes later it became a low rocky escarpment. The two put on a burst of speed, hoping to reach the outcropping and whatever shelter it might offer before the Romans detected their change in course. The dunes flowed down into a large rocky valley, bordered on all sides by gentle slopes.
Halfway to what they hoped was safety, both noticed it was too regular in outline to be a natural ridge. As they sprinted closer, they could see the living rock had been carved into battlements and fortifications that stood out in stark contrast against the cloudless sky. It was a city, which was much better than mere shelter. Cities meant walls and soldiers, and even if it was allied with Rome, cities always had dark shadowy corners to hide in.
Most importantly, cities had water, something the desert lacked in abundance.
After a second jouncing glance, Xena pulled up, skidding to a halt. Something didn’t feel right here. There should have been guards on the battlements, smoke from cooking fires, some indication of human life, but there wasn’t. Gabrielle went two steps further before sliding to a stop in the last patches of loose sand. Favoring the stitch in her right side, she blurted out a question, in between gasps of air.
“Why,” wheeze, “are we stopping?” pant pant pant.
“Something’s wrong,” her tall companion muttered, hair whipping in a sudden gust of hot breeze. “There should be smoke, people moving around, animal smells, something. There’s not even a bird in the sky.”
"Even if it's deserted, there may be weapons, or a siege engine, or a barricade," Gabrielle countered. "Anything would be helpful at this point."
"Yeah," Xena agreed. "Those goons will catch up sooner or later, and when they do, I'd rather have some cover to be behind. Let's go. "
The pair resumed their trot, though at a less frantic pace than before.
The city was well and truly deserted, and as they skirted the north wall, it wasn't hard to figure out why. The main gates had been wrenched from their sockets. The outer layer of hardwood had been crushed and splintered to fragments, and the surrounding stonework had been demolished. Gabrielle walked through the ruined entrance as Xena studied the damage with a practiced eye.
"There must have been a great siege here," she said in a subdued tone.
"What makes you say that?" Gabrielle's question floated from the inside.
"Look at the impact marks," she explained. "This wall took some huge hits. Those are massive stones, but they've been pounded to dust, and that gate was worked over by a giant battering ram."
The thought gave her a moment's pause, and a new realization suddenly dawned.
"But where did all the debris go?" she muttered.
"What?" Gabrielle asked, poking her head over the top of the battlements.
"The attackers must have catapulted some enormous missiles to cause this much damage to the walls, but where did they go? They didn't bother to clean up the rest of the mess, so their ammunition should still be here, but it isn’t."
Now that was puzzling.
"Is there anything inside?" she asked. "Large stones, iron balls, anything like that?"
Gabrielle cast a quick glance around the open courtyard and pulverized walls.
"No," she answered slowly, roving eyes fixing on the desert. "I don't see anything like that, but I do see our Roman friends. They must have found our trail. They're making a beeline here."
"Stay low so they don't see you. I'm on my way up."
Gabrielle had been right in her assessment, Xena saw, crouching low over a splintered crenellation. The approaching soldiers were moving cautiously, but they didn't waver left or right, heading directly for the ruined city. There were a lot more of them than she had noticed at first glance. A normal patrol usually numbered ten or fifteen legionnaires, but they were facing a full maniple, nearly sixty men. Unless one of them came up with something extra crafty, running and hiding were their only options.
"Let's go see the city," Xena suggested. "Those troops won't be here for a bit; maybe we can set up a nasty surprise or two for them. You take the east side, I'll take the west, and we can meet up at the south edge."
The uneasiness she had felt from afar had only grown with time.
"Keep your eyes peeled, Gabrielle, " she cautioned. "I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this place."
The town was laid out in a flattened oval design. In the center was a towering edifice, presumably the ruler's palace or some such hub of civic authority. Nearest the center were imposing, stately homes, which gave way to humble dwellings closer to the outside edge. On the fringes, next to the wall, was a squalid slum. What had once been rows of mud-brick huts had long ago dissolved into mounds of dirt.
Gabrielle hopped down from the low battlement and hustled around to the east side of town while avoiding loose debris and wreckage that was haphazardly leaning against the wall.
Xena watched her go, marveling at the younger woman's resiliency. She had grown up so much since leaving home that it would be hard for her parents to recognize her. Not everything they had experienced together had been pleasant. The brutal truth was that a great deal of it had been unpleasant, and the hardened warrior wished she could have spared her traveling companion those bitter days, but the young bard appeared none the worse for wear. Shaking her head, the Warrior Princess of Amphipolis chased away those idle thoughts, concentrating on the problem at hand.
Gabrielle was having precious little success with her search. It wasn't that the city had been damaged or rendered inhospitable, it was simply deserted. Personal belongings, the ten thousand tiny articles people needed in their daily lives, were all still here; only the citizens were missing. Aside from the front gate, there were no signs of strife, nothing was torn up. Everything seemed to be in perfect, if empty, order.
There were obvious signs the inhabitants had been absent for some time. Any foodstuffs she found were dried-out and desiccated. They could have been here for weeks or millennia, there was no way to tell. Reminding herself that time was growing short until the Romans arrived, she was about to hurry to the rendezvous point at the south wall when she spied the first signs of violence she had seen thus far.
Right at the dividing line between the civic center and some of the nicer homes stood a smallish building whose rich appointments and elaborate carvings declared it to be a place of some importance. The outer facade showed damage like the city gates, and these doors had also been torn out by the roots.
Dust and sand formed a gritty carpet crunching underfoot as she cautiously mounted a dozen steps and entered what had once been an elaborate gateway. The interior, although shabby now, must have been gloriously beautiful at one time. Stately columns, draped in between with purple linen, supported the roof, and the floor was constructed from large blocks of swirled green marble. The furnishings, which appeared to be untouched by age, were mostly of carved ebony and gold. On the lintel over the entrance were carved several lines in an angular script, the only writing she had seen thus far.
Away from the fading light of day, the interior was gloomy and still. Gabrielle was filled with a sense of menace, a feeling that impending danger was lurking unseen just around the corner. At any other time, she would have brushed it off as a bad case of nerves, but there was a compelling undercurrent urging her to get away from here at all costs.
Nervously backing out of the ill-lit room, she bumped into an elaborate candelabrum, knocking it to the marble floor with a ringing crash. Already wound up tight, the racket was more than she was prepared for, and she sprinted out of the building, clearing the steps to the street in a single leap.
In spite of her forebodings, Xena needed to see this. Not only did it have the only writing she had found, it also had the only damage she'd seen. Maybe it was just nerves, she thought hopefully, looking off to the south wall.
Wrapped in Stygian darkness, something stirred, stretching tendrils that had lain dormant for many years of men.
At the south wall, Xena was impatiently awaiting the arrival of her companion. Her search of the west side of town had been a complete bust. There were no weapons, no usable food, and worst of all, no water. They could ration what little food they had, but without water, they would die trying to cross the desert.
The only bright note was that the fortifications were still in good condition. There were enormous iron vats hanging on tripods atop the battlements, ready to be filled with hot oil, perfect for pouring all over your enemy. Numerous deadfalls had been built at key points along the walls, vast blocks of stone suspended by chains, ready to be dropped into place, should the walls be breached. Whoever had designed the defenses really knew their stuff.
If the gates were in good condition, I could hold this place indefinitely, she mentally grumbled. Yeah, and if I had wings, I could fly to Olympus and ask for help.
Brooding wasn't going to help matters any, but it was all she had left to do while waiting for Gabrielle.
Where is that girl?, she thought, squinting into the sun. This is no time to dally. Those soldiers could be here any minute.
She was on the verge of going to look for her compatriot when a familiar tousled head appeared around a nearby corner, nervously glancing over one shoulder.
"Any luck?" Gabrielle asked tightly.
"None. You?"
"Some," she admitted, "but mostly bad, I think. You'd better come take a look. "
"What is it?" Xena quizzed, dreading more trouble.
"I'm not sure, but I don't like it," came the honest answer. "It feels important, though."
"Well, let's have a look," the warrior woman said, feigning confidence. Gabrielle was obviously rattled by what she'd found, and wasting a few more moments wouldn't matter much one way or the other. If worse came to worst and the Romans got too close, they could scoot over the west wall and escape into the desert, no worse off than they had been before.
"What do you make of it?" the warrior princess asked the bard as they studied the mysterious writing on the wall. The sun had slid below the battlements, and very soon now would begin to set. In the low light, shadows grew longer and deeper, making reading doubly difficult.
"Hard to tell," Gabrielle confessed, suppressing a shiver. The feeling of uneasiness was growing stronger with every passing moment. She had the feeling that if it wasn't resolved soon, she would burst.
"The symbols themselves are Phoenician," she pointed out, "but the words don't make any sense. It's all garbled gibberish. "
By way of example, she rattled off a string of tongue-twisting vocables that meant nothing to her. The effect on her friend was electric.
"Hey!," Xena exclaimed. "I know that; it's Amharic. The tribes nearer the coast speak it."
"Well why didn't you say so?" her cohort snapped peevishly. "Here I am wasting my time…"
"No, no," the dark-haired woman soothed. "I can only speak it. I can't read it. Honestly, I didn't know it was a written language. You read; I'll translate as you go."
Flashing another dirty look at her companion, Gabrielle cleared her throat and launched into the alien syntax again, closely followed by Xena's Greek translation.
"Welcome, O noble visitor, to our beautiful city,
Welcome to the city beloved of the gods,
Welcome, honored guest,
To the Vale of Sarnath."
At the last word, Xena paled noticeably.
"We have to get out of here NOW," she growled, abruptly grabbing her friend's arm.
"But… but what's the matter?" Gabrielle asked, momentarily forgetting her own desire to leave.
"This is Sarnath," Xena hissed. "Sarnath the damned. This city is cursed," she replied, hustling the younger woman in the direction of the door. "And I mean 'cursed' with a capital 'C'. Now move it!"
"The Romans-," Gabrielle began, when she was cut off.
"We've bigger problems, " Xena spat.
"No, I mean 'The Romans'!" she finished, pointing outside. Further down the street, a half dozen soldiers were milling around. The two groups of potential combatants spied each other at the same instant. With a shout, the legionaries broke into a run, unlimbering weapons as they came.
The sun chose that particular moment to begin setting, highlighting the palace with a gold-orange glow that provided an incongruous backdrop for the brief combat that ensued. Over the din and clash of arms, no one noticed the low-pitched harmonic rumble that shook the ground as the sun crossed the horizon, surrendering the city to night's embrace.
The warrior princess was living up to her name. She waded into the mass of soldiers, chakram in one hand, sword in the other. In a heartbeat, she had dispatched two of them to their version of the afterlife, and was eyeing the rest, gauging how much fight they had left after a day's run.
"Stay back, Gabrielle, " she barked in a cautionary tone, swinging her broadsword in a side-to-side clearing motion, forcing the survivors to back away.
Unnoticed by all the combatants, Gabrielle was rooted in place, staring into the open portal of the building they had just vacated. A hint of movement caught her eye, a flash of red from the room's depths. She squinted harder into the gathering gloom, trying desperately to see what she hoped she hadn't just glimpsed.
Something was moving in the darkness of the building; a something that wasn't Roman, or even vaguely human; a something that sent a wave of dread washing over her.
"Uuuh, Xena… about the curse, just what was it?," she hissed.
"This is no time for a discussion, " came the growled reply.
"Then don't talk. RUN!," the short woman yelled, grabbing her friend's arm and tugging desperately in the direction of the city gates.
At that moment, a solid tangible wall of darkness rolled out of the shattered archway. It wasn't liquid, and it wasn't vapor, but it had the characteristics of both. The blackness swallowed the nearest legionnaire, and everyone could hear his screams, echoed by the sickening snap of breaking bones.
Before anyone else could move, Xena shrugged off Gabrielle's grasp and sent her chakram screaming through the air. She wasn't sure what effect it would have, but she hoped for the best.
The whirling weapon whooshed through the obsidian mass and spanged off the wall with a shower of sparks, returning through the cloud's center on its way back. The arcane disc didn't slow a whit, showing no more effect than if it had flown through empty air. Eyes widening in astonishment, she snatched the chakram out of the air, and grabbed a fistful of Gabrielle's top, preparing to bolt for safety.
The blackness shifted slightly, and what was left of the unfortunate soldier hit the ground with a boneless, liquid splat. An instant later, the remaining soldiers snapped about to face this new threat, hacking vainly at it with sword and spear. If the dark form took any hurt from their attack, it gave no sign.
The warrior and the bard didn't wait to witness the outcome. They ran. Fast.
Fresh screams rang out as they pelted up the street, taking the next turn, heedless of where they were going so long as it was farther away from that thing than they were now. After half a block, their frantic pace slowed as the agonized yells lessened.
"Where did it go?" Gabrielle panted nervously, not really wanting to know unless the answer was 'far away'.
Without warning, the roiling black miasma screamed around the corner they had just passed.
"Faster!," Xena huffed.
The dark cloud was moving with the speed of a cyclone, rapidly closing the gap. In seconds it would be upon them.
"Over there!" she gasped, pointing to an elaborately decorated building on their right. "The one with the fancy portico. RUN!"
Gabrielle scrambled across the street with Xena a step behind. The young woman stumbled on the steps, colliding with her friend. Both went sprawling, sliding several feet across a highly polished granite floor from sheer momentum.
The whirling phantasm pulled up short at the steps, flattening along one side as though encountering an invisible barrier. It spread across the width of the top step, tendrils tentatively reaching outward, exploring.
"Why did it stop?" Gabrielle panted breathlessly.
"This is a temple," Xena replied between gasps, gesturing at the silver seal inlaid in the granite floor. "Ishtar, I think. Either it has no power here, or it isn't willing to cross the goddess on her own sacred ground. "
They were safe for the moment, but that could change at any time. Supernatural beings were rarely respecters of 'The Rules'.
"When did you get to be so fast?" the older woman asked with a wry grin.
Gabrielle collapsed backwards into a nerveless heap.
"Must've caught my second wind," she groaned. " I swear, when we get out of here, I'm going to sleep for a week. "
"Don't get too comfortable yet," Xena advised evilly. "I don't think that thing will hang around too long, and that seal won't stop the Romans.”
Gabrielle made a face.
"The Romans. I'd almost forgotten about them." What little resolve the young Greek had retained collapsed abruptly. "I assume you're already working on a plan to get us out of here?"
"Count on it," Xena answered with a grin. She was working hard at putting on a brave front, but while the situation wasn't hopeless, it was the next worst thing. Their supplies were basically nonexistent, the Romans hadn't shown any signs of budging, and she had the sinking feeling that mortal weapons weren't going to be effective against the misty monster. Her chakram, a weapon that had made the stoutest hearts quail in fear, had been about as effective as a limp noodle.
As if it could hear her thoughts, the dark cloud began a chilling, keening moan that set their teeth on edge. Steeling herself against the racket the beast was raising, Gabrielle sat up and looked at her companion with a puzzled expression.
"So how is it that you've heard of Sarnath, but I, the master-bard-in-training, never has?"
The older woman was nonplussed by the rapid change in topic, recognizing it for the defense mechanism it was. She shrugged in answer.
"Well, I'm not sure how you've never heard of it, but I can remedy that right now."
"That would be something different, you telling me stories, " Gabrielle said with a tired smile.
"Sarnath, " Xena began, "is one of the most ancient cities of men. No one knows when it was built, or even what race first lived here, but it's incredibly old."
She shifted into a more comfortable position and fiddled with her bootlace.
"Centuries ago, before civilization arose in the Peloponnese, a man of great power lived here. Some called him necromancer, some called him apothecary, but none knew the limits of his power. "
Gabrielle laced her fingers behind her head, listening with rapt attention.
"In the course of his travels, he discovered a dark cavern in a distant land, and there he stole an enormous gemstone from a sleeping demon. When he returned home, the king of Sarnath imprisoned him and tortured him to gain the gem. The man died, and with his last breath, he cast a curse upon king and city, summoning the sleeping demon, and setting him loose upon the citizenry."
Gabrielle bolted upright.
"This is the Black City?," she blurted. Xena's tale had corresponded closely with another story she was familiar with; too closely to be a coincidence. Gabrielle was familiar with the legends surrounding the wizard Tekeli-Li and the ruby known as the Fire of Asshur, she just hadn’t expected to have her life hanging by them. The thought obviously didn't sit well with her.
"We have to get away from here," she said, hugging her knees to her chest and shivering violently.
Xena's mind was working furiously. When they had arrived at the city gates, her two options had been to hide or flee. That hadn't changed, but the demon had complicated things. She and Gabrielle could dodge soldiers or demons, but not both. Unless… if both parties were otherwise occupied, that might open up other possibilities.
Volcanic blue eyes flashing in the dimming twilight, she got to her feet.
"This place has a second story; let's go take a look. I want to see what's happening outside."
"Deal," Gabrielle chirped with a relieved sigh, glad to be doing something other than sitting and thinking too much. "I just wish that stupid thing would SHUT UP!," she snarled, flinging the comment at the still-shrieking cloud like a weapon.
"Is there any way to get rid of the demon?" she asked as they trudged up dank, dusty stairs. "You know: end the curse, find the gem, bury the wizard, something like that?"
"I already thought of that," Xena admitted, "but none of the stories I've heard mentioned anything along those lines. All the versions I'm familiar with say that the city was either abandoned in a panic, or the population killed in a single night. Of course, they also said the city was buried beneath the desert, so I don't know how much trust to put in them. Legends. Hmph."
Disgust was written broadly across her dusty face.
"We're legends too, aren't we?" Gabrielle asked with a bright grin.
"Damn right we are," Xena affirmed, glad her friend could joke at a time like this.
The evening air was already noticeably cooler as they left the narrow stairwell and emerged onto the roof. It creaked alarmingly underfoot but gave no other signs of weakness. Long ago it had housed an awning to offer shelter from the sun, but it had since decayed, and all that remained now was a skeletal frame and a few shreds of sun-bleached cloth.
The moon was rising, a thin sliver no bigger than a fingernail paring. Its narrow argent line sliced the night sky with a wholesome cleanliness that was a welcome counterpoint to the evil rampaging below. Despite its smallness, it was enough to cast a silvery glow over the town and be a reminder to them of happier times, when Luna had shown down upon them in happier climes.
The hellish cacophony echoing up from the street changed in timbre, diminishing to a raspy whisper. Motioning to the bard to stay out of sight, the warrior princess stalked to the building's facade, crouching low and peeping over the edge. The rolling miasma seemed confused, moving slowly back and forth along the temple's wall.
"What's it doing?" Gabrielle stage-whispered from the stairwell. Xena had drawn breath to answer when a movement at the end of the street caught her eye. There was another platoon-sized group of soldiers, crossing and re-crossing the broad avenue, searching from house to house.
"There goes the neighborhood, " she remarked under her breath, motioning Gabrielle back down the stairs. The tall Greek was relieved to see her protege comply with no argument. While the younger woman's occasional reluctance to follow instructions was endearing and a necessary part of her personal growth, this was no time to test the waters of independence. She hustled across the creaky roof and back down the stairs.
"What happened?"
Xena snorted.
"It didn't know where we went, so I think it got bored and left," she ventured with a grin. "For a demon, it's not too bright."
She leaned closer and lowered her voice, just in case her assessment was wrong.
"Here's the plan: Another patrol is coming up the street toward us. I'm guessing the Roman commander split his troops up into small units and is having them search the town for us. Any minute now, that thing will see them, and hopefully go after them, instead of waiting for us. The second that happens, I want you to run as fast as you can to the city gate. The curse may not extend outside the city's walls, so I'm hoping we'll be safe in the desert."
"I couldn't help but notice a number of conditional terms just now," the young bard said. "You mentioned 'guessing', 'hoping,' 'may not’. There's no guarantee, is there?"
"Nope."
"We don't have any water," Gabrielle pointed out brightly. "We'll never make it in the desert."
"There's no water here, either," Xena reminded the younger woman. "But there IS a big nasty black cloud that kills people for kicks. If we stay here, it's a toss-up whether the Romans or the demon gets us first. Now get ready."
Both women stretched their legs, getting ready to run for their lives for the second time in one day.
"You know, this is very un-Warrior-Princess-like of you," Gabrielle observed with a smile. "You hate to run away. Usually, you cook up some hare-brained scheme that's both creative and improbably successful."
"I just didn't have anything to work with this time”," Xena confessed with a sigh, shrugging. "My reputation will suffer, no doubt; the myth ofXenic Infallibility is done for. If I'd even had a wheelbarrow to work with, that would have been something."
"If we get out of this in one piece, I promise I'll-"
"Don't."
"We could always try the flying parchment-," Gabrielle began hopefully.
"No."
Screams erupted at the far end of the street.
" Run!," the warrior woman shouted.
It may have been the brief interval of rest they had gained, or repeatedly being in fear for her life, but for once, Gabrielle outstripped Xena, leaving the Warrior Princess behind in a cloud of dust. As she rounded the corner, Xena risked a glance at the Roman patrol, just in time to see the last legionnaire fall in a nerveless heap. It may have been their movement or some inborn instinct the creature had, but the demon instantly headed in the direction of the rapidly retreating women, rumbling and groaning as it came.
The street that Warrior and Bard were running down was one of the connecting spokes radiating out from the city's center. Blazing around the corner fast enough to kick up a rooster-tail of dirt, they ran north to the gates, following the inside curve of the battlements. A harmonic vibration in the ground grew closer and closer, providing an audible reminder that the murderous black cloud was quickly closing the gap. Both women were running as fast as they ever had in their lives, but it was plainly obvious they weren't going to make the main gate before the whirling mist caught up. It was practically nipping at their heels now. Xena's eyes whipped around, searching for something, anything that might buy them a few extra moments.
A few dozen yards ahead, and high above, one of the large deadfalls twisted slightly in the cool night breeze, catching her attention.
That just might do, she thought with a mirthless smile.
She plucked the chakram from her hip and tossed it on the fly, not breaking stride. The arcane weapon screamed through the air, severing the thick suspension chain with a shower of sparks. Ancient iron pulleys squealed in protest, performing their designed function long centuries after their makers had gone to dust. Tons of rock crashed to the earth a scant few paces behind the running women, shattering paving stones, raising a thick dust cloud, and buffeting them with wind and gritty debris as Xena snagged the chakram out of the air and returned it to her belt. Gabrielle started to look back, but the panting Warrior Princess gave her an ungentle shove forward, reminding her that this was a time for running, not gawking.
A heartbeat later, one of the questions that had nagged at her subconscious was answered. Since entering the ruined city, her mind had kept coming back to the sheer scale of carnage inflicted on the damaged walls and demolished gates, and how they had been obliterated so completely.
As the stone smashed into the ground, the boiling cloud took solid shape, forming a perfect sphere that rammed the block with an enormous impact. The dense mass of granite shattered like a dropped glass, scattering fragments in all directions. It slowed for only a moment, but that was enough to let the fleeing women pull ahead again. Only two more city blocks separated them from freedom; within a minute, they would either be loose, or dead.
Rounding the last corner, the gateway hove into view, and the warrior princess felt like cursing out loud. The remaining legionnaires had assembled in the open courtyard and were milling around in confusion. Some had heard the low moaning the cloud was making and were looking around, trying to locate its source, while many simply dawdled about in a disoriented muddle .
"Don't stop, Gabrielle!, " she shouted. "I want you to run right through them!."
To her credit, the young woman didn't slow for a second. Xena was right behind her, charging into the mass of startled soldiers, screaming like a banshee from Hell
Actually, the banshee from Hell was about ten steps behind them.
The Romans were caught flat-footed, suddenly seeing two wild-eyed, screaming women bearing down on them, immediately followed by the most horrific maelstrom of evil any of them would ever see in the remainder of their short lives.
A shouted order from their commander galvanized them into action. To their credit, they immediately lined up in an attack formation and wheeled to do combat with the approaching creature. Against any mortal foe, their attack wedge would have been devastating, but the demon was unimpressed. It tore into the mass of humanity, slaughtering wholesale as the Warrior and the Bard scampered out into the desert and safety.
Xena and Gabrielle blazed past the archway that (hopefully) marked the extent of the demon's range and kept right on running. Both felt an urge to stop and draw a relieved breath. That urge was immediately squashed, as they ran into the night. Thankfully they were too intent on covering as much distance as they could to pay attention to the screaming that cut the cool night air.
The Son of the Outer Darkness crouched atop the crumbling gate lintel and watched the pair of women run across the desert in the moonlight. For a moment, he considered chasing them some more, but he was really a very lazy demon at heart and he had had enough fun for the time being. His vaporous shape began to coalesce into solid form. He had finished hunting. Now it was time to eat, and in order to eat, he needed a physical body. Idly munching on what had once been a Roman legionnaire’s lower leg, he sat on the ruined archway, his naked rat's tail partially obscuring the writing on the reverse side, an ancient message to travelers departing the fair city of Sarnath.
"HAVE A NICE DAY"
"Wow, I can't believe I've never heard that one before," Eve said.
"Well, it's not really the kind of story you want getting out. I mean, it's not exactly flattering," Gabrielle explained sheepishly. "Your mother hated running from a fight and I hated being afraid for my life, so we decided that this one should never see the light of day again."
"Good call."
Quite a bit of time had passed while Gabrielle was telling the tale, and the moon had risen high in the sky, trading her aura of burnished gold for the pure, silvery hue that was her normal color.
"Are you ready?" Eve asked nervously.
Gabrielle nodded assent, and wordlessly they began piling fresh wood on the ashy embers of their fire. The dry wood crackled and spit, then caught and began burning brightly, casting dancing shadows around the edge of the clearing they crouched in.
"Will this work?" Eve asked uncertainty, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. The dark haired woman's hopes had been raised and dashed many times over the last year, and she didn't want to experience the bitter disappointment of failure again.
"I don't know," Gabrielle replied. Blond hair flashed whitely in the orange glow of the fire as she shook her head. "I've seen the Kelts do this, but I've never tried it myself "
"What's it called again?"
"Sam.... Sam-something," Gabrielle cudgeled her brains to recall a name that kept slipping away. “I’m sorry, I really don’t recall.”
Both women stared into the fire for a moment before Gabrielle spoke again, voice sinking to a whisper.
"Think back and remember," she urged in a gentle tone. "Don't think about anything else, just focus your mind and visualize. Above all, don’t let your mind wander. The Kelts can do this because they're close to home; close to their center. We're about to open a gate, hopefully for our purposes, but there are no guarantees what will come through. The best way to avoid complications is to maintain your mental focus."
A cold breeze blew down the slopes of Mt. Fuji, twisting smoke away in a snaky trail and sucking sparks into the air. Both women had left home, re-crossing the known world, staking everything on this moment. The waters of the Fountain of Strength burbled quietly on their way downhill, seeking out lower elevations. The quiet susurration, normally so soothing to the ear, was lost in the background as they bent all their will to a single purpose.
On the other side of the world, strange men were also preparing a bonfire, readying for a feast and celebration that marked the end of the last year and the passing of their loved ones. At the moment of the old year's death, this world and the Otherworld would merge. The boundaries between what was and what had been would blur. No barriers would exist between the dead and the living.
Gabrielle and Eve were performing ceremonies of their own, seeking after the one soul who had been so dear to both of them, the one who had already passed on, taking a small piece of both women with her to the grave. They reached out into the beyond, stretching their minds farther than either had believed possible.
A low, grey mist appeared, seemingly seeping up through the earth. It was subject neither to the wind nor the fire, for it hung low to the ground, unmoved by both the icy breeze and the hot air stirred by the flames. It grew, first to roughly man-shaped proportions, and then larger, spreading toward the fire in blatant defiance of common sense. The wind suddenly hammered at them, pelting both women with leaves and debris.
"Gabrielle, " Eve gasped in a warning tone, grasping the shorter woman's arm. "What did we do? Is this what's supposed to happen?"
"I... I don't know," the Bard stammered. "I've never seen it happen this way... something's wrong."
The wind blasted the clearing, bowling over smaller trees and making the bonfire, howling all the time like an enraged animal. Then, it ceased, as suddenly as if someone had thrown a switch. A feeling of tense expectancy hung heavy in the air. The hearts of both young women filled with dread; neither had the least idea what to expect.
"Oh, Abba, what have we done?" Eve moaned, panic-stricken at the thought of what they might have unleashed.
"This is all my fault," Gabrielle reproached herself furiously, hanging her head in shame.
"Yes, it is, " agreed a hollow, sepulchral voice rolling out of the misty cloud .
A wave of arctic cold flowed under the voice, the bone-deep chill of the spaces between the stars. Terror washed over the onlookers in mighty waves.
"Without you, this would not have been possible. Without you, I would never have been able to do what I have done. Without you, I would never..."
The voice hesitated, searching for words.
"... would never have been able to see my daughter again," it finished warmly.
Xena, the long-dead Warrior Princess of Amphipolis, stepped out of the mist and walked toward the fire. Eve was ashen-faced, staring wide-eyed at the new arrival.
"Mother? Is… is that really you?" she asked in astonishment, looking like she was, quite literally, seeing a ghost. Still unable to believe her eyes, she raised a hand toward her mother's shade and took a tentative step forward. Speechless and unable to answer, Xena only nodded, eyes welling up with tears as she embraced her daughter.
"Mother, I..., I wanted to… I...," Eve stammered, trying to put a coherent thought together as her facade of strength crumbled.
"It's alright," the Warrior Princess finally managed, wiping her own eyes and caressing her child's cheek. "You don't have to say a thing."
Eve buried her face in her mother's breast, holding her tightly, afraid this was all an illusion. Xena looked beyond Eve and saw Gabrielle still standing by the fire, several feet away, giving them space. Lip quivering, the bard smiled a gentle smile, a look that only the Warrior Princess brought out in her.
"She never got the chance to say goodbye," Gabrielle said by way of explanation. Her breath caught in her throat, fighting against a sudden rush of tears.
"I cannot begin to thank you," Xena said, voice thick with emotion as she softly cradled Eve's head.A stream of tears ran down her face, while love and sadness warred in her eyes. "I don't have the words."
Gabrielle stepped closer and hugged Eve and Xena, feeling the closeness of the two people she cared most about in this life.
And for just a moment, all was perfect in her world.