Archive of Our Own

Nature had gone wild, reflecting the chaos that had ensued after Zeus' death. The gods were at war. There were none strong enough, as Zeus had been, to stand alone and compel the other gods to respect certain rules, certain practices, which would have allowed a reasonable balance of power to return to Olympus. When Zeus died, his rules died too. Now god grappled with god for control. Thunder raged across Greece, lightning strikes caused fires in forests, villages and cities. The days were dark, and the nights were long. Some called it the beginning of the end: the Twilight of the Gods, but the gods were not going quietly. In the raging storm of their battle, there was real danger that they would not only destroy themselves but the Earth, and all who lived upon it, as well.

There might be one slim hope to restore the balance of power, one means to turn the ravaging tide of war; but it was something no god could do. The journey required a mortal - but it was believed that no mortal could survive exposure to the prize that must be sought and won. So, there was concern about how to obtain the cooperation of the mortal needed. Nor would all gods want this desperate gesture to be undertaken: there were some who hoped the current chaos would resolve in their favour, so they would block any effort, fight any initiative to restore the peace. Total secrecy was needed to limit this expected resistance. But, despite the obstacles and challenges in their way, there were three from Olympus who were determined to try to end the madness - to restore balance - whatever the cost. At best, it was a desperate gamble, but there was no real choice. Ultimately, if this did not succeed, all was lost; it was only a matter of time.

Huddled in the shadows of an ancient temple, hidden well within a forest far from any village - and very far from Olympus - the three debated what must be done.

"I wish there was another way, but I guess we're agreed: there's only one mortal who has any chance of pulling this off."

"Yes, but I'm not sure we can’t tell him why it must be done -"

"He doesn't need to know our reasons,” the third cut in. “He only needs a reason to do it for himself. We all know there is only way to be absolutely certain he will agree to this quest."

"I don't know. I think we should just ask him: I think he'd do it - it doesn't feel right to trick him, not that way. I don’t like this; there must be another way.”

"Just 'ask' him? No, we dare not take the risk. It's enough that he understand the hazards - and the time limits."

"But, doing this could be fatal for him: he deserves to know that. You don't know him like I do: he would gladly die, if that was the cost."

"Hmmmm, die for us? To restore balance to Olympus? Perhaps, but I doubt it. No - it's just too much risk. We can't trust him that far.”

"I hate this; I really hate this! He'll soon figure it out anyway! He might be a mortal, but he's not stupid."

"Enough! We all know he's not stupid - and we all acknowledge his courage,” the first voice cut through the debate. “There is not one of us who is happy about what we must do. But, there is no choice: he's the only hope we have. He may be the only hope the world has."

The compact warrior, wrapped in a cloak against the wind and torrential rain, slogged through the mud to join his partner, who was positioning the last of the sand bags on the top of the temporary dyke - and just in time. The unseasonal rains had swollen rivers already wild and full from the spring thaw; rivers were escaping their banks all over Greece, threatening to deluge villages and cities, drowning farms, fields and forests with muddy, swirling waters that drowned all in their path. This dyke was Corinth's last wall of defence: if it failed, much of the city would find itself under water. Men had been working for more than twenty hours to build this bulwark against the rising tide and now, for good or ill, they had done all they could do. The others had already headed back to the security of the city.

"That's the last one, Herc!" Iolaus shouted against the wind, squinting against the needles of rain that pelted his face. Hercules turned from the wall that was higher than his head and, nodding to signal his understanding, he put an arm around the shoulder of his friend to turn him back toward the safety of the city walls. Beyond the sandbagged mound, below the howl of the wind, there was a low rumble: the voice of the river that was rushing through the valley, heading toward the city, it's crest fast approaching, waters already rising on the other side of the temporary dyke. Lightning flashed around them and thunder cracked with a deafening crash, seemingly just above their heads. Ducking instinctively, the two ran, slipping and sliding through the mud that made footing uncertain, back toward the city.

As they came into the lee of the stone wall, somewhat protected from the driving wind and rain, Hercules and Iolaus heard a ragged cheer from the palisades above them.
Looking up, they saw Jason and Iphicles give them a triumphant 'thumbs up' gesture. From their vantage point, they could see that the dyke was holding - that Corinth would be safe - at least from this deluge. Iolaus grinned and slapped his larger friend on the back, "We did it, Herc!"

Hercules nodded and, shrugging against the wind, he headed toward the city gates. Iolaus watched him briefly, his grin fading, worry clouding his eyes. Herc was going through the motions, but he was still far from being back to normal. Iolaus heaved a heavy sigh: Hercules was never going to be the same. This was one more blinding grief that would haunt his friend for the rest of his life. Damn the gods. Damn Zeus' soul for having forced Hercules into having to kill his own father. At the gates, Hercules paused and turned, waiting for him. Shivering against the cold rain, Iolaus hurried after his friend.

They entered the gates, just as Jason and Iphicles climbed down the steps from the wall. Shouts of celebration rang through the city in exhilaration that disaster had been averted. An arm around his brother's shoulders, Iphicles drew Hercules toward the palace entrance, while Jason and Iolaus hastened behind them.

Bursting into the warmth and light of the palace, the men wiped the rain from their faces and shrugged out of their waterlogged capes. Iphicles drew them into the hall, close to the huge fire; they were all chilled and the flickering heat was welcome. Servants brought goblets of mulled wine, scented with cinnamon and cloves, heated by the immersion into each goblet of a thin iron bar taken from the fire.

Iphicles raised his goblet, toasting his family and friends. "Thank you, each of you. Your leadership and skill made the difference over the last several days. I could not have marshalled all of the necessary work alone. I'm grateful for your help."

Jason returned the toast, but protested, "No thanks needed, Iphicles. You know, we're always here when you need us!" Iolaus nodded, taking a healthy gulp of the wine, feeling its warmth chase away the chill in his body. "Yeah," he seconded Jason's assertion, "and, so long as you continue to wine us and dine us so well, you can always count on us!"

The others laughed, easy in one another's company. Iolaus could see Hercules make the effort, smile and banter, but the haunted look never quite left his eyes. They needed to get away; away from all the people, away from the city. Herc needed peace and time to grieve; time to accept what had happened - time to heal, at least so much as could ever be possible.

Iolaus stretched, easing muscles strained by lugging heavy sandbags for the last twenty hours. The warmth was making him drowsy. Yawning, he set down the empty goblet and slapped Hercules on the back. "So, big guy we should have an early night if we're going to head out to Thebes in the morning."

"Thebes?" Jason and Iphicles interjected, then Iphicles continued, "What do you mean you're leaving in the morning? The roads will hardly be safe."

Iolaus nodded in acknowledgement, "I know, but given the way the weather's been, they probably need help back home." Looking up at Hercules, he continued, "Herc and I figured we'd go there as soon as we finished the work here."

Hercules had not heard anything about this plan before, but he recognized that Iolaus was giving them a way to escape the palace, escape the city - and he was grateful. Nodding, he played along with the story his partner was spinning. "We know we're welcome here, Iph, and we're grateful but, well, we really want to head home - make sure everyone there is alright."

Iolaus grinned before he yawned again, which provoked the others to yawn as well. "Iolaus, stop that!" chided Jason. "You'll have us all asleep as this rate!"

Iolaus chuckled, "Sorry, well, I'm off to bed. See you all in the morning."

Herc nodded to the others, "I'm right behind you, Iolaus; good night, Jason, Iph."

As the two old friends headed out of the hall, into the darker corridor beyond, Herc patted Iolaus' shoulder gratefully. "Thanks," he murmured.

Iolaus gave him a quick sideways look and a mischievous grin, "No problem, buddy. I don't enjoy the court life any more than you do. Even with this god awful weather, I'll be happier back on the road. See you in the morning," he said as he turned off to his own chamber for the night. Hercules looked after Iolaus for a moment before heading to his own room, grateful that Iolaus always made everything easier.

The next morning found the comrades on the road shortly after dawn. The storm had passed, at least for the moment, and watery light suffused the countryside. It would take at least the full day to get to Thebes; longer if they had to make many detours around swollen streams or mud slides. Keeping to higher ground, they made good time but, by noon, thunder clouds were building above them and the wind had regained its cutting edge. Iolaus led them deeper into the cover of the forest, which would shelter them from the coming rain and also protect them from lightning bolts.

Continuing the steady pace, they climbed higher - and then the rains hit. The wet ground quickly became a pool of mud, which slowed them as they slipped, feet losing their grip, on the steep slopes. They reached for trees, bushes, saplings, whatever, to gain some purchase to help pull themselves above any possible sudden torrents of overrun streams. Finally, they spotted the cave they often used as a midpoint shelter on their travels between Corinth and Thebes.

They weren't far from the cave entrance when Iolaus heard Hercules slip and give a muffled curse behind him. Turning, he saw his buddy had grabbed onto a bush to steady himself when his feet had slid in the mud. He'd let go of the bush in a hurry and was shaking his hand.

"What happened?" Iolaus asked.

"Damn bush; must have been a blackthorn - gouged my hand." Painful, but not serious, Iolaus thought and shrugging, turned back to lead them to the cave; the sooner they got inside, the sooner he could take a look at Herc's hand.

It was a relief to get out of the wind and driving rain. They'd left dried wood stacked inside the cave the last time they'd rested there, so it only took moments to get a fire going. There was a natural spring in the back of the cave so, pulling a rag and a bowl from his sack, Iolaus headed back to get water and to moisten the cloth before coming to sit beside Hercules who was holding his right hand, stemming the flow of blood from his palm.

Iolaus knelt beside him. "Here, let me see that." He took Herc's hand into his own. Tilting it toward the fire, he cleaned the wound, noting Hercules flinch when he pressed on it. "The tip of the thorn is still in there, isn't it?" he asked, looking up into Herc's eyes.

"Yeah, feels like it, anyway." Herc agreed. Iolaus peered at the palm, couldn't see anything next to the surface and, with regret, pulled his knife from his boot and placed the blade in the fire. Hercules grimaced, knowing what was coming. "You know, I would have sworn it was just a simple, ordinary vine. Usually, it’s easy to spot blackthorn and avoid it."

Iolaus shrugged; it had been raining, getting dark, easy to mistake one vine for another. "Looks like I"ll have to dig for it, sorry. But, on the bright side, the hot knife will cauterize the wound and ensure there will not only be no infection but that the bleeding will also stop. We'll just give it a minute to heat up and -"

"Iolaus, you're babbling."

Iolaus chuckled as he reached for the knife. This would sting, but they'd both known much more severe injuries; this was an irritant at best. In moments, he had located the broken tip of the thorn, cauterized the wound, and was dusting it with herbs from his sack before wrapping a bandage around Herc's hand. Hercules had hissed a bit, but otherwise bore the ministrations of his friend stoically. "Thanks," he muttered when Iolaus had finished.

Iolaus nodded, put away the medicinal supplies and pulled out the bread and cheese, and the apples, he had gathered from the palace kitchen before they had set off that morning. Handing a share to Hercules, he settled by the fire and peered out of the cave entrance at the increasingly violent storm outside.

"It's getting worse, isn't it Herc?" he mused, as he watched the wind whip and slash at the trees, the rain beating mercilessly on the leaves, stripping them from branches. Lightning hit the ground just outside the cave entrance while thunder rumbled and crashed above them.

Hercules winced at the violence of the thunder and nodded. "I'm afraid so, Iolaus. I don't know when - or even if - it will get better."

"If? Surely, this can't continue indefinitely."

Hercules shrugged, staring morosely out at the gathering dusk. "Depends: the balance of power needs to be restored. The gods will battle it out until, well, until someone else takes on the leadership of Olympus. Unfortunately, it could take a while."

Iolaus nodded; the gods would fight for power and mortals would struggle to survive the chaos their battles created across the land. Privately, he was almost glad they were fighting amongst themselves and ignoring Hercules.Except for a couple of uncoordinated attacks in revenge for having killed Zeus, the gods had left them alone; there hadn't been a new attack in well over two weeks.

The deepening darkness, the rain, the fire all had a soporific effect and, before either comrade really noticed, both had fallen asleep. It was a couple of hours later when Iolaus was awakened by something... some sound. Alert, he listened for it - and heard Hercules moan in his sleep. Quietly, Iolaus sat up and checked his friend. Herc hadn't slept easily since, well, since he'd killed Zeus. He seemed to relive the horror every time he closed his eyes, which meant he hadn't been getting much rest. But, this seemed like more than just a bad dream. Leaning closer, Iolaus noticed Hercules seemed flushed and, touching his face gently, he was surprised to find it hot with fever. In the dim light of the dying fire, Iolaus could see Herc was unconsciously cradling his injured hand, even in his sleep. It must be more painful than the modest injury would warrant - and the cloth bandage was wet with blood.

Something wasn't right.

Iolaus quietly slipped to the back of the cave to fill their waterskin. Coming back to the fire, he put some water on to boil to make a herbal tea to counteract fever and infection. Moistening a cloth, and taking his herbs and another cloth in his other hand, he returned to Herc's side and gently began to treat the injured hand. When he unwound the bandage, he gasped in surprise at what he saw. It wasn't possible: there hadn't been enough time for this kind of infection to set in, but the wound was raw, inflamed and swollen. Green discharge mixed with the blood and was oozing from the injury. The hand itself was already severely swollen and red streaks radiated from the puncture wound across the hand, some already beginning to move up Herc's arm. Hercules groaned and flinched awake as Iolaus worked on his hand.

“Sorry,” Iolaus mumbled but avoided Herc's eyes while he worked on cleaning out the wound. He again slid his knife into the flames, dropped some herbs into the heating water and then looked up to find his partner's pain-filled eyes upon him.

"It's not good, is it?"

"No, Herc; your hand is badly infected, and you can tell the fever has already started. I'm going to try sucking out the poison that's still in the wound, and then put a poultice on it to draw out whatever is left,” Iolaus looked away, "but I'm afraid this may be more than a normal infection."

Iolaus pulled the knife out of the flames and took Herc's hand. Before beginning, he looked up to make sure Hercules was ready. His partner nodded at him and looked away while Iolaus cut a cross in the palm and bent to suck the wound. Three times, Iolaus drew out blood and other fluids from the ruined hand and spat the discharge on the ground beside him. After again cauterizing and covering the wound with a clean cloth, he instructed Herc to keep pressure on it. Iolaus finished making the herbal poultice, which he then tied across Herc's palm.

In the short time it took for these ministrations, Herc's arm became increasingly inflamed and started to swell. His eyes glazed with fever, his skin flushed red by the battle raging in his body. He felt nauseated and dizzy, and the pain in his arm and hand was like a fire that burned through his skin, muscle and bone.

Iolaus forced Hercules to drink the bitter tea which would help fight the infection and the pain. He pulled a blanket out of his sack and wrapped the demigod in its warmth. The fever was a good thing, so long as it didn't climb too high: it helped the body to fight off the foreign invaders of infection and poison. Hercules shuddered with chills and winced against the pain in his arm which was now spreading to his shoulder, neck and right side. His breathing was becoming increasingly laboured. Iolaus positioned himself behind Hercules, leaning against the cave wall, so that he could support Herc's greater size and weight against his own chest, to ease his friend's breathing and to lend Hercules his own warmth, to help fight the chills that wracked his friend's body. Iolaus wrapped his arms around Hercules, holding his dozing friend, and watched the dim, rain-swept afternoon move through dusk to dark.

As the hours passed, Iolaus' anxiety grew from worry to fear: there was something seriously wrong with Herc. His natural, god-given healing powers had no effect on the rapid movement of this infection. Iolaus was increasingly convinced that he was dealing with the effects of a virulent poison, and that none of his herbs would have any effect in alleviating the symptoms. The building fever could lead to delirium or convulsions. A delirious Hercules was dangerous; Iolaus would not be able to control him. Indeed, he would be in danger of injury from Herc's superior strength. Using water from the waterskin, Iolaus bathed Hercules, trying to bring the fever down, but he was fighting a losing battle. Herc's whole body was swollen and red streaked and, moaning, he seemed to be wracked with pain.

Iolaus struggled through the night, bathing his friend's fevered body, soothing Herc's restlessness with soft words and gentle touches, encouraging his friend to drink herbal teas to restore fluids to his body and to strengthen him in the battle with the poison that was trying to consume him. Iolaus knew he was losing the battle, but he didn't know what else he could do for his friend. He felt sick with fear and grief; Hercules was getting worse - maybe dying - and he was powerless to save him. Just before dawn, he looked up from bathing Herc's body to find his friend's eyes upon him.

"Herc?"

Hercules nodded, licked his lips. "Thirsty..." he rasped.

Iolaus immediately slipped around to support Hercules' head while he held the waterskin to his lips. Herc drank, then turned his head aside, coughing. Iolaus tossed the skin away and grabbed his friend's shoulders, drawing him up, supporting him, helping him breathe. When the coughing subsided, Iolaus gently eased Hercules back down, still holding his shoulders with one strong arm, brushing his friend's hair back from his fevered brow. Feeling the scorching fire below the skin, Iolaus felt his eyes glaze with tears and hastily blinked them away.

Hercules gazed up at Iolaus, wincing against the pain. Swallowing, Herc murmured, "Not good, is it...my friend?"

"Shhh, don't talk, Hercules. Rest...you'll be fine" Iolaus' voice cracked on the last word...on the lie.

Hercules slowly shook his head, "Dying..." he whispered, "Retribution...from the gods."

Iolaus held his best friend tightly, shaking his head, "No, Herc, I won't let you go. You have to fight this; please, Herc...."

Hercules reached up to brush his fingers against Iolaus' cheek before resting his hand on Iolaus' arm, clinging weakly to his friend. "Sorry, Iolaus...I need to tell you - best friend...grateful....love…" Herc's voice drifted as he lost his fragile grip on consciousness.

Iolaus shook him gently "Hercules, hang on! Please, Herc - don't leave me." Blinking away the helpless tears filling his eyes, Iolaus leaned his head against that of his friend, holding Hercules, rocking him like a child in his arms. “Please...someone... help me, please," he begged, though with little hope. Unable to call on any god for assistance, but knowing that he needed divine intervention to help his friend, Iolaus ached with his desperate fear for his Hercules’ life - and felt deep, heart-breaking sorrow knowing that Hercules was dying.

A shimmering of light heralded Aphrodite's arrival in the cave. Iolaus looked up at her, hope shining from his eyes, alight in his face. "Aphrodite! You heard me! You'll help him, won't you? Please, ‘Dite - please!"

Aphrodite was pale, her face troubled. She stood a moment, twisting her hands together, then took a deep breath. "It's not that easy, Curly. Hercules killed Zeus; all of Olympus has condemned him."

"All?" Iolaus cut in, "even you, Aphrodite? How could you? I thought...I thought you, at least, would understand."

Tears glistened in Aphrodite's eyes. "I'm sorry, Iolaus. But...there may be a way." Aphrodite was having great difficulty dealing with this; she cared about Hercules, and Iolaus as well. She hated the necessity of this manipulation.

Iolaus only heard the possibility of hope. Looking up at her, pleading, "What...what way? Please Aphrodite, I'll do anything."

Impatient with Aphrodite's hesitation and her scruples, Athena shimmered into view. Glaring at Aphrodite, she turned to Iolaus, who was staring at her in amazement. Athena was not a goddess he knew well, having only met her once during an unfortunate beauty contest - which Iolaus would prefer to forget. Athena garbed in her warrior's armour was a sight he had never wanted to see: she was terrifying to behold.

"Mortal, we can save the life of Hercules - but we will only do so in return for a favour."

"Anything, I swear: I'll do anything for you," Iolaus insisted, anything to save Hercules life. Anything.

Athena nodded. There had been no doubt that Iolaus would pledge his life to save Hercules. "You must bring us the Rainbow Crystal; bring it to Aphrodite's Temple on Olympus. Place it on the alter there . When you have done this, Hercules will be restored to full health. We promise you, if you are successful, there will be no further retribution required of him for his murder of Zeus."

Iolaus considered her words. "Rainbow Crystal? What is it? Where do I look for it?"

"In Middle Earth." Great, Iolaus thought, deep in the bowels of earth, far from light and air. But, it didn't matter, so long as this would save Hercules’ life. He gently laid Herc's head on the ground and stood to face the goddesses.

"Alright, I'll go now." He stood resolute before them, prepared to face any challenge for his friend.

Athena held up a hand. "Know that you must arrive at Aphrodite's Temple within three days or it will be too late." Athena swept her arm over Hercules and the two of them disappeared. Iolaus started at their sudden disappearance, then turned to Aphrodite.

"Where did she take him?" he cried, almost in a panic.

"It's alright, Iolaus: Athena took Hercules to my temple. We can hide him safely there. I promise he'll be alright so long as you return in three days." Aphrodite looked long at Iolaus, seemed about to say something more but hesitated and then looked away.

"There's something else, isn't there? Something you want to tell me." Iolaus watched her struggle silently, as she debated with herself, until she finally turned to him.

"Iolaus, you must return quickly once you have the crystal. It...it consumes mortal strength; it will steal your energy."

Iolaus considered her for a moment, pondering her words, hearing the pain behind them. "It might kill me, right?" he questioned, bluntly, without emotion. Aphrodite bit her lip and looked away. "It's alright, ‘Dite; you know I'd do anything for Hercules. It's alright." He paused a moment before continuing, "But, I don't understand why you can't just get the Crystal yourselves; why do you need me?"

"I'm sorry, Iolaus, I can only tell you gods cannot touch the Rainbow Crystal." Just great, Iolaus thought; a magic so powerful it could destroy gods. No wonder it was deadly for mortals.

"One last question, Aphrodite: will I see Hercules again?"

Aphrodite held his eyes as she answered, "I don't know, Iolaus. First, you will need to return to my temple. After that, I don't know."

Iolaus looked into the distance for a moment, then turned to her. "If I don't see him again, make sure he doesn't blame himself. Make sure he understands that this was my choice. And, tell him...tell him his life has always been worth more to me than my own."

With that, Iolaus bent to gather up his bag and his sword. Pushing past Aphrodite, he headed out of the cave into the twilight’s drizzle. Aphrodite looked after him for a moment. "Good luck, Curly," she murmured, before she disappeared in a dazzle of sparkles.

Iolaus loped through the forest, sliding occasionally on the muddy ground, but rarely breaking his stride. There was only one way he knew of to get into Middle Earth and he was heading toward someone who could help him find his way. The distances involved, and the time constraints he faced, meant that he could stop for nothing, that he needed to run. As he ran, he considered the challenges that might lie before him. It was unlikely that the Rainbow Crystal, whatever it was, was lying quietly in a cavern somewhere. Most likely it was guarded by horrible monsters and natural hazards. Iolaus sighed. He hated fighting monsters without Hercules. When he inventoried his armament in his mind - knives, sword - he wished he had his bow and arrows. He'd found it was often best to keep some distance between himself and the monsters he was stalking - or who were stalking him.

Artemis watched her Hunter lope through the forest and approved. He did not race in a panic, foolishly using up his strength, but rather ran in an easy, mile-eating stride that he could maintain for days. She also noted his lack of certain weapons and frowned. He might very well need a bow to be successful in this mission - and while he did not realize it, his mission was as important to her as it was to him, albeit for vastly different reasons. Consequently, Iolaus was startled as he headed around a curve in the trail to find Artemis waiting for him. He skidded to a halt in front of her, worried that something had happened to Hercules.

"Artemis, what's wrong? Is Herc okay?" he stammered.

She held up a hand to stop the flow of his words and to gather his attention. Smiling slightly, she assured Iolaus, "Nothing is wrong, but you need to take more than you have with you on your mission. Here, take these and return them to Aphrodite's Temple."

Iolaus was stunned to see Artemis hold out her own bow and quiver of arrows. By the gods, what was going on? What was so important about this crystal that she would entrust her bow to him?

Hands trembling slightly, Iolaus took the proffered weapons and carefully slung them over his shoulder. "Thank you. I appreciate the help.... Artemis, what's this all about? What is this crystal? What are its powers?"

Artemis shook her head, "I cannot tell you, Iolaus. But, be warned, not all of the gods will welcome its presence on Olympus. If any learn of your mission, there could be danger. Be wary. Now, go - you haven't much time."

Iolaus hesitated a moment more, then nodded as he started back along the path; it would take him most of the day to get to the cave dwelling of his friends. As he ran, he turned over the elements of the puzzle in his mind: a mysterious crystal with deadly powers, three goddesses supporting his journey, other gods who would not. Who had poisoned Hercules? Potential hazards so great that Artemis had loaned him her bow. Life for his friend, possibly death for himself.

At one point, as he stopped to drink from his waterskin, a cold thought touched his mind and he paused. Surely not. Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite...all goddesses who were friendly to Hercules and, to a lesser extent, himself. They needed a mortal, a warrior, someone who would not hesitate to risk his life - given the right incentive. Surely, they weren't responsible; they wouldn't have poisoned Hercules...would they?

Suddenly, Iolaus felt cold with certainty. What terrible powers were contained in the Rainbow Crystal that they would go to such lengths? Sickened with disgust, he had to swallow the bile that had risen in his throat. How dared they play this game with Herc's life, manipulate them both this way? Damn the gods. Herc was right: none of them could be trusted.

As the thunder cracked above him and the storm winds raged across the valley, Iolaus took a steadying breath. Whatever the powers were, they would be enough to decide the war between the gods. He was sure of that; nothing else made any sense. No wonder Artemis had suggested other gods would not support this quest. Iolaus struggled with these thoughts, realizing he was the pivot in a deadly game between the gods. Whether he succeeded or failed, one group or another would benefit; how was he to know which would be the better victors, the better rulers of Olympus?

Grimly, he realized it really didn't matter to him. What mattered was Herc's life: that was reason enough for him to continue this quest, as they had known it would be. His commitment and dedication to his own purpose reaffirmed in his heart, Iolaus continued his race toward Middle Earth.

The journey was taking longer than Iolaus liked. Twice, he'd had to detour around swollen streams which had crushed the bridges he had hoped to find. By the time he got to the cave, most of the afternoon was gone. He was soaking wet, bedraggled and slightly winded from his long run. He stopped briefly at the entrance to the cave to push his hair back from his face and brush off some of the water clinging to his clothing. He hoped his friends were home.

Entering the huge cave, he called out, "Typhon! Echidna Are you home? Hello??? It's Iolaus."

He hadn't gone far when he felt the ground tremble under his feet...yup, they were home. Typhon was coming to welcome him. Looking up at the low, rocky ceiling, he hastily cautioned the giant, "Watch your head!" but, he was too late, and, as usual, Typhon clipped his head against the rough stone.

Wincing and grinning at the same time, Typhon bellowed his welcome, "Iolaus! How wonderful to see you!!! Come in, come in. Echidna always enjoys your visits - and you know Obie loves you!!! Come in! Why didn't you send word you were coming? Is Hercules with you?"

Iolaus gazed fondly up at his enormous friend. Typhon was the only person he knew who babbled more than he did himself. Walking with the giant back through the cave, Iolaus explained, "Sorry, the visit was - unexpected. I didn't know I was coming until this morning; and, no Herc isn't with me. I'll explain when we join Echidna." As he walked into the main cavern, he was struck again by Echidna's appearance: part beautiful woman, part horrific monster, and all huge! Hearing the drumbeat of not so little feet, Iolaus braced himself for Obie's traditional enthusiastic greeting. Obie was still a child but, nonetheless, he was now at least as tall as Iolaus and weighed considerably more. Consequently, when Obie leapt into his arms, Iolaus staggered a bit, smiling as he hugged the child and then set him back on his many tentacles.

"EEOOOLLAUUSSS!!!!" Echidna called out in her strange, almost musical voice. "How wonderfulll to see you!! Come, sit downnn. Typhon, bring Eeolausss something to drinkkk. Obie, settle downnn; lettt our guest relaxxx!"

Iolaus absorbed their warmth and kindness, their genuine welcome, a kind of shield against the chill of his ever-present, overriding fear. For all their amazing appearance, this was a loving family, much like any other of his friends, and he always felt not only welcome but safe here. Taking the large mug of ale handed to him by Typhon, he drank gratefully to slake his thirst then, setting the mug aside, looked earnestly up at his hosts.

"Typhon, Echidna, I need your help," he began only to be interrupted by both friends.

"Of course, Iolaus, we're glad to help!" affirmed Typhon, while Echnida enthused, "For you, Eeoolaussss, anything!" Echidna had never forgotten Iolaus' kindness and courage in remaining with her when Obie had been abducted, in defending her against Hera's archers, risking his own life to protect hers. She loved Iolaus beyond any other mortal.

Iolaus smiled in gratitude, but cautioned them, "Wait, listen to what I have to say, and then let me know if you can help.” Taking a breath, he explained, “Herc has been poisoned by the gods: he's dying." This news was greeted by startled gasps and sympathetic soft moans of denial. Iolaus blinked a bit at the warm concern they offered, swallowed the sorrow that threatened to consume him, and carried on. "Some of the gods have promised to save him if I bring them the Rainbow Crystal from Middle Earth."

Iolaus was interrupted by a long, eerie cry from Echidna, "Noooooooo, Eeeooolaussss, you must not goooo....noooooooooo....."

Concerned, Typhon took Echidna into his arms to calm her, and Iolaus rested a gentle hand on one of her tentacles. "It's alright, Echidna; I know about the danger the crystal holds for mortals. But I have to get it: it's the only way to save Hercules."

Echidna looked down on this brave, stalwart mortal. She had never seen him hesitate to risk his life for another, and she knew he would do anything for Hercules. Tears filled her eyes. "Dooo you know where you're going? What the Crystallll issss? .......Did they tellll you?"

"Uh, no: gods and goddesses tend not to go into long explanations. They just tell you what they want."

Typhon had a troubled look on his face; clearly, he knew the answers to Echidna's questions. "Iolaus," he rumbled in his deep voice, "they are asking you to enter the Garden of the Souls of the Gods."

"What?" Iolaus had never heard of such a place.

"The Garden of Souls: it's where the souls of dead gods go for eternity. Living gods cannot approach the Garden, lest their souls be captured and held there, too."

"Ohhh, wow. I guess that explains why they need a mortal's help - but, what is the Rainbow Crystal?"

Echidna looked at him sadly. "No one knowssss for sure, Eeeoolausss. Some say the crystalssss hold the soulsss of the godsss...or perhaps just their powerssss. Othersss believe the crystallllsss are the gateway into the Garden through which the soulssss must passsss....It's rumored that the soulsss of godsss enter the crystalllsss...and they never leave....The crystalllsss are powerfullll...They are like magnetssss for life’s energy...They will draw your strength frommmm your body, Eeoolaussss....You....you will die." A tear rolled down Echidna's cheek.

Iolaus was touched by their concern for him, but he also found the information intriguing. It sounded like there was more than one crystal. "You say there are many crystals, not just one?" Echidna nodded. "How will I know which one is the Rainbow Crystal?"

"Ohhhh, you will be able to tellllll. Allll of the crystallls have differenttt coloursss."

Iolaus nodded; he had to assume there would only be one with all the colours of the rainbow. Gods, what kind of power would he be bringing back to unleash on the world? Should he do this? Ice gripped his soul: what gods were held in that Garden? "Echidna, is this Garden for all gods - or just Greek gods?" he asked, a tremor in his voice.

"Gggreekkkk Ggoddsss, Eeolaussss." Echidna assured him. Iolaus heaved out a sigh of relief. That was alright then; even for Hercules, Iolaus could not risk releasing Dahok's power into the world again. But, the power of a former Greek god: how bad could it be? The strength of a Titan or two, maybe - nothing too terrible.

"I don't have much time," Iolaus explained, "I have to bring the Crystal to Olympus within two days. Echidna, would you show me the passage to Middle Earth?"

Echidna gazed sadly at this human, the only one of his kind that she truly considered a friend, and she could see he would not be dissuaded. Sniffing back her tears, she nodded, "Alrightttt, Eeeolausss....I willl take you. Commme thisss wayyy...." She gave Typhon a quick hug, then turned away and led Iolaus to a crack in the cave wall, a crack that led down into the depths of the earth. As Iolaus approached the entry, Typhon handed him a torch he had lit from their fire. Iolaus nodded his thanks, gave his giant friend one last grin of reassurance, and followed Echidna into the earth.

They journeyed for what felt like hours through narrow, twisting passages, always heading toward the centre of the earth. At first, it was cool, but it became warmer, the deeper they went. There was a light sheen of sweat on Iolaus' skin by the time Echidna had led him to a particularly small slit in the wall of rock that surrounded them. Iolaus looked at it without much enthusiasm. Why were these entrances always, invariably, so small that even he could barely pass through?

Echidna rested a tentacle gently on his shoulder, stroking his hair. "Thisss isss the wayyy, Eeeolaussss...beee veryyyy carefulllll. Stayyy alwaysss to the rightttt...anddd, beware, therrre arrre monsterssss herrre." Iolaus looked up at Echidna: monsters? She gazed at him sadly, "Yessss, Eeeolaussss, other childrennn Heraaa stole frommm meee. They willl try to killll you."

Touched, Iolaus regarded her with great compassion. She was giving him warning, and in her own way, absolution; she knew he might well have to kill her children if he was to survive this mission. "I'm sorry, Echidna; I wish there was another way."

Echidna gave his head one last tender stroke, then gently pushed him toward the entrance to the Underworld of the Gods. "Beeee ssssaffffee, myyyy frienddddd," she whispered before she turned away. "I willl waitttt for you herrrre, to leaddd you backkkk to the surfaccce..."

Iolaus nodded and turned to push himself through the narrow opening. He had to go down on his knees and edge his way in sideways, holding the torch ahead of him and dragging his sword, bow, arrows, and bag along behind him. Gradually, the passage seemed to widen a bit. Taking a breath, Iolaus prepared himself to meet whatever was on the other side.

He found himself in a large cavern, filled with pillars of white marble and stalagmites and stalactites of frozen petrified crystal hanging from the ceiling and growing from the floor – all reflecting back the light of his torch in a dazzling display of colours. "Wow..." he breathed at the beauty of the cavern, before he cautioned himself, "Pay attention, Iolaus: there be monsters here."

Cautiously, he made his way around the cavern, moving to the right as instructed by Echidna. he carried the bow in his hand, arrows at ready access over his shoulder, in readiness for whatever might come at him. The hairs on his neck lifted as he felt a cold draft touch his skin; there was definitely something else in this cavern. Peering into the shadows that hid the depths, Iolaus caught a shiver of motion on the edge of his vision, below where he would normally be looking. Shifting his gaze downward, he staggered back against the wall at what he saw - it was HUGE!!! The python, a hundred feet long and four feet thick, was slithering toward him: it could swallow Iolaus whole and still have room for several other tasty morsals in its huge, fang laden mouth. It hissed its eight feet of tongue striking out at Iolaus, who dodged behind the cover of a large pillar. The monster was coming at him too fast for him to aim and shoot an arrow; he had to get some distance, buy himself a few seconds of time.

Iolaus continued running past and around pillars and stalagmites, the python hissing on his trail. Once, the tongue looped around his waist and started to pull him to the snake, but he lashed out with his knife. Green blood spattered from the wound as the tongue quickly retreated. Breathless minutes later, Iolaus found himself boxed: there was nowhere else to run. He was trapped between the snake's enormous body, which had twisted around pillars and other obstacles, and the head, which was again bearing down upon him.

Iolaus whisked an arrow from the quiver on his back, notched it and let fly. It hit the python squarely between the eyes - and bounced off. Terrific. He grabbed another arrow and notched it, watching the snake slither closer, watching it open its mouth, staring down its enormous gullet - and loosed the second arrow to fly straight into the back of the monster's throat just as the mouth came down to cover him. He felt the burn of a fang cutting the back of an arm and along his ribs. The stench in the mouth was horrific and he gagged. Suddenly, he was sprawled, retching, on the floor of the cavern, his torch still burning nearby. Stunned, he looked around for the reptile and found, instead, a magnificent white swan preening its wings.

Iolaus grinned: it had worked! Standing, he gathered his bag, the bow, and the torch to 'herd' the swan back toward the opening through which he had entered the cavern. Once the swan had gone into the cleft in the rock, Iolaus turned and resumed his journey to the right. He thought – hoped - he heard a joyous cry, a mother reunited with a lost child, but, he wasn't sure.

Finally, he came to another slit in the wall, close to the floor. This had to be it. Gods, he HATED being underground, hated the dark, the feeling of being trapped. If the earth shifted, if rocks collapsed, he'd be... Resolutely, he pushed the thoughts away. No point in terrifying himself with scary images; the reality was bad enough! He got down on his knees and inspected the narrow opening. It seemed to twist in and down, and it didn't look like it got any wider anytime soon. Sighing, he pulled a length of rope out of his bag and tied it, the bow and the quiver of arrows together and then tied the rope to one ankle. He would have to pull these things along behind him. He kept the torch in one hand and his sword in the other. Stretching out on his belly, using his elbows, he pulled himself into the hole.

It seemed endless and, all the while, he kept reminding himself that he would probably have to come back the same way. The walls of the narrow tunnel were so tight, so rough that he could feel the skin being scrapped from his arms, chest and shoulders. He had to fight the sensation that the walls were closing in on him, squeezing him. Stopping, he slowed his breathing, brought his panic under control. He hated this, really hated this. Finally, he could see the end of the tunnel and the light from his torch reflected back at him from something inside the cavern ahead. Cautiously, he edged forward to the end of the tunnel and, leaning out with the torch, he peered around the massive hall that loomed around him. His breath caught at the magnificence of what he saw.

It was like an entry way to an incredible palace, rich and vibrant with colour - and beyond, he could see another opening, somewhat shrouded in mist, but he thought he could make out the shapes of trees, smell flowering shrubs. He could hear the sounds of water rushing over stones; he thought he could even hear music in the distance. He felt great peace, almost a lethargy that came over his body. The hall around him was piled high with crystals of every imaginable shape and colour: they glimmered and blazed in the light of his torch. There were more crystals than gods; there must be enough here for all the gods, for all of eternity. He began to feel dizzy and reminded himself: crystals will sap your strength; you can't stay here.

It took an immense act of will to straighten up and begin his search for the Rainbow Crystal. If one crystal could kill him, the proximity of hundreds, maybe thousands, would exhaust him in minutes. Some crystals were large, like tables or columns; others were small, like balls, or the flat rocks he would skim across a lake. All seemed to vibrate with colour and energy: rose, pink, lavender, every shade of blue, turquoise, yellow, gold, orange, crimson, ivory, lapis, apple green and emerald green, indigo, violet - but no crystal held more than one colour. Where was it? He couldn't last here much longer.

Iolaus was working his way toward the entrance to the shrouded world beyond. His weakness increasing, stumbling, he had to take great care because the edges of the crystals were razor sharp. He had already inadvertently cut one hand, an arm, shredded the leather on one leg... Suddenly, his senses were caught by a skittering sound behind him. Turning, he choked back a scream of terror of a creature from a nightmare.

The giant scorpion was stalking him and whipped out an appendage to grasp Iolaus around the waist, lifting him toward the thing's gaping jaw. Struggling, Iolaus became aware that the tail was darting toward him, bringing the poisonous stinger closer and closer. Thank the gods, Iolaus had held onto his sword when the scorpion had grabbed him. He lashed out at its armoured body, with little effect, but was able, with a mighty downward slash, to slice the stinger from the end of the scorpion's tail, splashing green blood everywhere. The monstrous creature reared and dropped Iolaus to the ground.

He hit hard, stunned by the impact on crystal and cut as it shattered around him. Ignoring the pain of tiny daggers of glass ripping his skin, he rolled away from the creature, grabbing the bow as he scrambled out of its reach, dodging its pincers - and the regrown stinger. It was herding him toward the entry to the shrouded world beyond. Instinctively, Iolaus knew if he entered there, he would never be able to leave: the world beyond had to be the Garden of Souls of the Gods.

Iolaus dodged around crystal columns, rolled under crystal ledges, oblivious to the cuts and scratches, the adrenaline of fear helping him to fight off the draining effect the crystals had upon his energy. He grabbed an arrow as he ran, and notched it. Turning, he saw the tail coming at him: there was no time. With a quick, almost reflexive aim at the underside of the creature, Iolaus let the arrow go, just as the side of the creature's tail slammed into him, dashing him through crystal columns, hard into the wall. He slumped to the cavern floor, barely conscious and saw the tail, the stinger, descending toward him; it took all he had to roll aside, the stinger just missing him. There was nowhere else for him to go: he was boxed into a corner. He looked up and saw the poisonous appendage poised above him, ready to strike - this time fatally.

Iolaus raised an arm to protect his head, turned slightly away - and nothing happened. Iolaus jumped as he felt something cold and wet against the hand he had braced on the ground. Iolaus looked down and started to laugh, almost hysterical in his relief. Bless Artemis and her bow: this time, the monster had transformed into a cuddly little golden puppy with floppy ears and wagging tail.

Iolaus gathered the dog into his arms, letting it lick his face, feeling it wriggle in excitement. "Easy," he murmured, "Calm down, shhhh," he soothed the animal. He couldn't let the little critter wander around: the shards of crystal would cut its paws to pieces. Iolaus staggered up and carried the pup to the hole in the wall, pushing it through toward the other cavern. Ever ready to explore, the pup took off, following Iolaus' scent through the tunnel, into the cavern and the other tunnel beyond.

Iolaus slumped against the wall. He had to find that damned Rainbow Crystal now or it would be too late. He couldn't last in here much longer. Dazed, he remembered Echidna's instructions: stay to the right. Edging along the wall of the cavern, his eyes scouring the crystals around him, he finally saw it. It’s brilliance made the other crystals dim in comparison. Not large, no bigger than his hand, it pulsed with its rainbow of colours, throbbed with its own energy. Iolaus scooped it into his hand, felt it's warmth against his skin, and then stuffed it into his bag.

Gathering his gear together at the entrance to the tunnel leading him back to the upper world, Iolaus fought the darkness on the edge of his vision. He had to hold on, get away from the power of this garden of crystal. Grimly, he held a vision of Hercules before him; Hercules as he had last seen him, helpless, dying, on the floor of the cave. Herc needed him. Nothing could or would stop him from doing what needed to be done. Nothing. Not even his own mortal weakness.

Iolaus pushed his way back up through the narrow aperture and half crawled, half dragged himself back into the first cavern. Sobbing with the effort, aware that his breathing was becoming laboured, that he was dizzy, Iolaus pulled himself to his feet and, following the wall to his left, traced his way back to the first tunnel. He had left the torch behind; it was too much to manage in his weakened state together with his weapons and the bag with the Rainbow Crystal. So, he was caught in a black void, finding his way by feel rather than sight. It was as if the gods had conspired to ensure this quest required him to face all of his deepest terrors: small tight places, the feelings of entrapment, horrible monsters, fears of being entombed alive, caught forever in the darkness beneath the earth while his best friend lay dying somewhere in the world above.

It was taking too long to find the opening; Iolaus was terrified that he might have missed it in the dark. Fighting his panic, he took deep breaths, made himself stand still, focused his mind on his task, on the reason why he must succeed. Calmer, Iolaus continued to feel his way along the wall and, finally, he found the opening near to the ground, exactly where it was supposed to be. He knew he was in the right place because he could hear Echidna crying softly somewhere on the other side.

He edged himself into the tunnel and pulled himself along. Gods, he was exhausted. And he still had to make it to Mount Olympus and climb the mountain to 'Dite's temple. How long had this taken? How much time did he have left? What seemed like an age later, Iolaus found himself at the end of the tunnel and heaved himself out and up into the larger space beyond. It was pitch black: Echidna had no need of torches, but Iolaus could see nothing.

"Echidna?" he called out, his voice weak and trembling with exhaustion.

"EEEEOOOOLLAUSSSSS!!!!" Echidna fairly shrieked with joy, her enthusiastic cry echoing through the long passages beyond. She grabbed him with her tentacles and held him, as if he was one of her most beloved children. He was safe; he had made it back to her side. But, she could see his exhaustion and she could feel the slick of his blood against her hide. Iolaus had no strength left. Clutching his sack, which held the Rainbow Crystal, his sword and Artemis' bow, he relaxed in Echidna's grip.

"Let's go home," he muttered as his awareness slipped away.

He awoke to the light and warmth of Typhon and Echidna's cave. He was lying on and under animal pelts, soft on his skin and warm against the chills that were beginning to shudder through his weakened body. Echidna had barely finished washing the scrapes and cuts, bandaging the worst. Struggling against her insistence that he rest, Iolaus pushed himself up, feeling the urgency of desperation.

"How long have I been unconscious?" he rasped.

Typhon loomed over him, "Not long, Iolaus, maybe a couple of hours."

Gods, he was running out of time! Reaching for his bag, his sword, the bow and the quiver of arrows which had been tumbled beside the bed, he stood to look up at his friends.

"I have to go. I haven't much time left to get to Olympus. But, thank you for all you have done for me. Echidna, I could not have succeeded without your help. Remember," his voice cracked, partly in weariness, partly because he was afraid he might never see them again, "...remember how grateful I am to you, and how much your friendship has meant to me." Turning toward the entrance to the cave, Iolaus started forward but, in his weakness, he stumbled to his knees. Damn. He could have cried in frustration; he didn't have time for this. Hercules needed him.

He felt Typhon gently take his bag and weapons and stuff them in one of his oversized pockets. Then, Typhon lifted Iolaus into his large, strong arms. "It's alright, Iolaus. We have time. I'm going to take you to the base of Mount Olympus. I can walk faster than you can run! You'll see!" he rumbled in reassurance. Iolaus looked up in amazement.

"But, you can't - it's too dangerous. There are gods who may try to stop us; you could be hurt. Please, just let me go alone."

"Nnnnoooo, Eeeollaussss....we willl nottt lettt you gooo alonnnne. You gavvvve usss two of ourrrrrr childrennnnn backkkk....we willl doooo allll weeee cannnnnn to helppp youuu."

"Echidna is right, Iolaus. You just relax, sleep if you can, and let me take you as far as I can go." Iolaus had to swallow hard and blink back the tears of gratitude that threatened to overwhelm him. He had never expected this help - and he knew he could never have made it to Mount Olympus without it.

"Thank you," he husked from the depths of his heart, "Thank you."

Dawn was breaking as they left the cave. He had been underground all night. Sighing, he leaned back into the crook of Typhon's arm and let himself drift into sleep. The Rainbow Crystal was in a deep pocket on the far side of Typhon's body; far enough away for Iolaus to recover some of his strength - to resist its power for a while longer.

Typhon strode across the countryside, down through long hills, across plains and up into mountains, down along the shore of the sea and back into rolling hills as he headed further north, to the foot of Mount Olympus. It took him longer than he expected - he too felt the effects of the Rainbow Crystal and it slowed him down. By the time they had reached the end of his journey, he could hardly remain standing. The power of the Rainbow Crystal was terrifying. Gently lowering Iolaus to the ground, Typhon wondered how Iolaus would be able to withstand its energy on the long hard climb up Olympus.

Iolaus looked up at his friend and was sorry to see the lines of fatigue etched in Typhon's face. As Typhon handed him his sword, the bow, quiver and the bag, Iolaus slung them over his shoulder, and then held Typhon's hand with both of his own; it was like an infant holding onto Herc's hand. Iolaus graced Typhon with a blazing smile that lit his face and his eyes. He could never have come this far, or be as well rested, without the help, and courage, of this gentle giant.

"Thank you, Typhon, my friend. I owe you more than words can ever say." Iolaus squeezed the hand for a moment, then turned away. "Be safe," he called softly as he started up the mountain. With one hand raised in farewell, Typhon watched until Iolaus was out of sight, oblivious to the tear that tracked down his cheek. He loved the little guy, and he greatly feared he would never see him again.

Typhon's strength returned completely as soon as the Crystal was some distance away. He sighed in sorrow and regret as he stared up at the mountain retreat of the gods. Why was it that the gods so often demanded the impossible? Destroyed the best amongst us? Iolaus and Hercules lived to help others; they deserved so much better than this torment and suffering. Shrugging in despair, knowing there was nothing else he could do - as a giant, he was prohibited from setting foot on Mount Olympus - he sadly turned away to head back to Echidna and their treasured children.

It was already dusk when Iolaus started his climb, and darkness fell quickly. He could feel the chill of the night air and he stumbled more than once. Fortunately, the moon above him was full or he would not have been able to see well enough to go on. He ignored the sting and burn of the myriad scratches and cuts on his body. He ignored the aching of muscles drained of energy but forced to still climb. He ignored the increasing weariness, and then dizziness, that threatened his attention. He climbed. At first, it was little more than a steep walk. But the higher he went, the more he had to reach for handholds and the steeper the grade became. Finally, he was clinging against the sheer side of the mountain, feeling for fissures in the rocks as grips and toeholds as he edged his way upward.

It was a kind of madness. Even in daylight, with all of his strength, and the right gear, this climb would have been a significant challenge. In the dark, exhausted, with only his bare hands, it verged on the impossible. The Rainbow Crystal was stealing his strength and energy, draining the vitality from his body - from his soul. More and more often, he had to stop, clinging to the edge of the mountain, his lungs heaving as he dragged in enough air to fuel his failing body. His attention began to waiver; he started to drift off - and then would jerk himself back, mentally slapping himself awake. If he fell asleep on the side of this mountain, he would fall, and die - and so would Hercules.

Halfway through the night, the storms began again. The wind cut through his clothes, chilling him to the bone. Rain lashed at his body, made his grip uncertain, the route ever more treacherous. But the vicious raw violence of the elements kept him awake. Still, at one point, he clung to the wall of the mountain, sobbing in despair, exhausted, uncertain of his capacity to go on.

He had never felt so weak that it was sheer agony to lift an arm above his head, to reach for one more handhold, to lift his body one more time. Pausing, he closed his eyes and pushed away the enervating despair to draw upon the disciplines of mind and spirit he had learned long ago in the east. He focused his attention and what was left of his energy. He shut away the pain and steadied his breathing. He kept his thoughts on Hercules. As he reached up, to find yet another handhold, he whispered with grim determination, "I'm coming, Hercules. Hold on...."

By the time Iolaus crawled over the edge of the cliff, dawn was beginning to break in the east. It had taken all night; he only had part of this day left, mere hours, to find Aphrodite's temple. Too weak to stand, he flopped over for a moment onto the grass, gasping for air, fighting off the blackness that threatened on the edge of his vision. Gods, how much farther did he have to go? Groaning, he rolled back onto his knees and grimly pushed himself up onto his feet. Gazing blearily around the plateau, he recognised the Great Temple of Zeus, the lower most temple on Olympus, and the most magnificent. Iolaus trudged past the temple and began the long climb up the grassy slope to the lesser temples on the higher levels.

This high up, he was above the clouds and the storms and the winds were lighter. On a better day, he might have noticed the beauty of the flowers and trees, the exquisite, delicate designs of the marble pillars and colonnades of the temples to the gods - blindingly pristine white sculpted stone against the many hues of green of the earth, the riotous colours of millions of flowers, and the endless blue of the clear sky.

Today, all he could do was keep putting one foot ahead of the other, lugging his bag and the bow on his back, his sword and quiver hanging from his belt. His hair was plastered to his head, his muddy clothes soaking wet and clinging to his body, which streamed red with the blood from a hundred cuts and tears. He had no idea he had already taken on the aspect of a spectre: his skin grey and stretched tight on the bones of his face, eyes sunken. But he knew he was fading fast. Pausing to draw in deep breaths, to steady his balance, he studied the statues before each of the temples ahead of him - thanking whatever gods might care, he spotted the Temple to Aphrodite not far ahead. He was almost there – but ‘almost’ seemed impossibly far. To lessen his load, he dropped his backpack and sword. With a wry gust of humour, he figured he wouldn’t be needing them anymore anyway.

Suddenly, from around the corner of the temple closest to him, two gods appeared and stopped in shock when they saw him. Iolaus' heart sank in despair. Not now. Not when he was so close...

"What are you doing here?" raged Ares. He couldn't believe his eyes. Hercules' pet mortal, all woebegone and bedraggled, climbing up the temple mount of Olympus – a place no mortal had any business being. Beside him, Hades raised a sardonic eyebrow, speculating on the possible reasons for Iolaus' presence on the mountain. Looking the mortal over, Hades thought it wouldn't be long before Persephone was welcoming him below and - at that thought - Hades glanced around, surprised not to see Hercules anywhere nearby.

But then, Hercules would hardly dare to show himself on Olympus, knowing all the gods were pledged to kill him in retribution for Zeus' life.

Meanwhile, Iolaus simply stood and stared at Ares, wondering what reason he could possibly give for being here.

"WELL???? I'm waiting for an answer!" Ares glared at him, quite evidently ready to slam him into tomorrow.

Iolaus sighed; always go with the truth: it was more convincing than a lie. "I'm looking for Aphrodite's Temple. I want to make an offering at her alter and....and ask that she help me save Hercules...from the wrath of the gods."

Ares snarled, "Not a good enough reason, runt!" With that, Ares lashed out with a bolt of power that drove Iolaus crashing into a tree near the Temple, where he slumped to the ground. He lay like a broken doll, unmoving; not even appearing to breathe. Hades narrowed his eyes. The mortal was not yet dead, but his life force was waning fast. It would not be long.

Ares was winding up to take another shot at the fallen warrior when Hades took his arm. "Save it, Ares. He's dying." Ares sniffed in satisfaction and allowed Hades to lead him away, back into the shelter of his own Temple. Hades was there to propose an alliance: between them, they could command Olympus - separately, they could destroy one another trying for ultimate power. The more temperate of the two, Hades could see the advantage of an alliance. Ares, more hot-headed and more driven, wanted absolute power. They had agreed to a truce until the end of this day. After that, if they could not find common ground, the gods would choose up sides and resume their battles with one another.

More than an hour later, Iolaus stirred weakly in the cool shadow of the tree. Stunned and confused, he looked around, wondering, at first, where he was. Then, realization came slowly as he recognised Aphrodite's Temple not far away. Gods, he hurt; every bone, every muscle protested. His lungs seemed to have difficulty drawing in air, leaving him to pant shallowly for breath. He tried to stand but gave up; his legs just wouldn't hold him. Shaking his head to clear it, he kept his eyes on the Temple and began to crawl towards it.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he made his way across the grounds to the Temple steps and pulled his way up. The steps seemed to go on forever; he had to stop twice to catch his breath and push away the dizziness and the darkness edging into his vision. Finally, at the top, he used a column to support himself, to help pull himself to his feet. He leaned against it for a moment, and then staggered into the Temple.

It was dark and cool inside. Torches burned in sconces along the walls and in elaborate candelabra and chandeliers. A huge statue of Aphrodite commanded the centre of the Temple hall. Gods, she was beautiful, he thought, momentarily distracted. Shaking his head, Iolaus let Artemis' bow and quiver of arrows drop to the floor just to the side of the entrance. Looking around, he spotted the altar on the far side of the Temple: of course, it had to be on the far side! Sighing, he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as he staggered across the Temple floor until he could lean heavily against the altar. Fumbling with his bag, he pulled out the Rainbow Crystal and carefully laid it in the centre of the pristine pink marble slab.

"Alright, Aphrodite," he whispered hoarsely, "here it is. Now, make Hercules well."

Iolaus did not know that he had barely entered the Temple when Ares and Hades had left Ares' Temple and noticed that Iolaus' crumpled body was no longer laying in the shadows of the trees. Ares glared as he turned toward Aphrodite's Temple. The pipsqueak had said he was headed there. Iolaus had no sooner sent off his whispered plea to Aphrodite when Ares and Hades stormed into her Temple.

Nor was Iolaus aware that as he had staggered across the Temple floor, goddesses had appeared on three sides of the building: on either side of the entrance and behind the altar placing Iolaus at the centre of five gods and goddesses. Nor would he have cared if he’d noticed; his attention focused on the altar, his thoughts centred on Hercules.

He did not know that as his prayer whispered its way to Aphrodite's ears - and heart - that Hercules' body materialized at her feet. Fulfilling her end of the deal, she swept her arm over him, chasing the poison and its effects from his body, rousing him from the stasis in which the goddesses had placed him while they waited for Iolaus.

Iolaus only knew that he could do no more. The darkness was claiming him as he sank to his knees. Hercules rolled to his side, barely conscious, to see Iolaus slip to the cold stone floor in front of the altar.

Suddenly the Temple was alight with the bolts of gods and goddesses directed toward the altar. Ares had simply been aiming at Iolaus, but when dying warrior slipped to the floor, the bolt passed over his head and hit the Rainbow Crystal just as the energy charges from the three goddesses also hit the crystal. Ares had wanted to call back his bolt as soon as he saw the Rainbow Crystal and realized what it was.

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!" he roared as the bolts hit the small round ball. Hades saw the crystal and marvelled: who had thought of this? Looking around the great Temple Hall, he saw Athena, 'Of course; of all of us, she would be the one to realize this was the answer and be bold enough to take the risk.'

Absorbing the powerful blasts of energy, the Rainbow Crystal quickly expanded - glowing, throbbing with power - until it exploded in blinding light and a million shards.

Hercules threw an arm up to protect his eyes from the blinding brightness and the flying crystal. When the light died, the altar was gone, destroyed and consumed by the ferocious blast of energy. Iolaus lay in a heap beside the space where it had once stood. Now, in its place, Zeus, King of the Gods, loomed tall in all his regal fury. Barely sparing a glance at the fallen mortal at his feet, Zeus stepped over him and strode toward Ares and Hades. His eyes snapped with his power: there was no question that the master had returned to Olympus. Ares and Hades, Athena, Artemis and Aphrodite all bowed their heads before him as he strode out of the Temple.

With victorious sidelong glances at one another, the goddesses remembered to breathe. It had worked. Zeus was resurrected: the balance of power was restored to Olympus. Athena looked with regret toward Iolaus' body before she left the Temple, her head held high. Artemis bit her lip, bowed her head once toward her Hunter in a gesture of respect, then turned to pick up her bow and arrows as she also left the Hall. Aphrodite stood, tears in her eyes, swallowing a sob. The plan had worked - but the cost had been high.

Hercules lay for a moment, stunned, unable to believe what he had just seen. His last awareness had been of being in the cave; now it seemed he was in Aphrodite’s temple on Olympus. How had he gotten here? How could Zeus be alive? Hallucination? Delusion? He shook his head and, with growing alarm, he understood that what he had seen - was seeing - was all real. And that brought the crashing realization that Iolaus was lying crumpled where an altar had stood moments before. Iolaus... gods, what had happened?

"IOLAUS!" Hercules cried as he lunged to his feet to run to his stricken friend's side. With infinite gentleness, he turned his Iolaus over to cradle him in his arms. "By the gods, no..." he protested in horror when he saw the shell of his once strong and vital best friend. This couldn’t be happening. Iolaus was wasted: his skin drawn tight, his eyes sunken in dark smudges; his breath rasping, barely audible, barely there. His emaciated body was cold and smeared with his life’s blood. What in Tarturus was going on? How had they gotten here? What had happened to Iolaus?

Lost in a cold, dark place, numb with profound exhaustion, Iolaus could barely feel the strength of the arms around him – but in the depths of his soul he knew and rejoiced: Hercules was alive and strong again. Iolaus had succeeded in his quest. Focusing on his friend, needing to see his face one last time, Iolaus dragged his mind back to bleary awareness to lift his gaze and hold Herc's eyes with his own. The grey spectre of his visage was replaced by the golden glow of his smile and the blaze of love in his eyes.

"Hercules...." Iolaus breathed as he weakly reached to touch his partner's face. Herc caught his hand and held it.

"Shhh, Iolaus, easy; don't talk. I'll get help."

Iolaus shook his head, or tried to...nothing seemed to work. "No," he whispered, "No time; just...stay with me...."

Hercules blinked against the burn of tears that threatened to blind him, swallowed the sob that was rising in his throat.

"Iolaus - what have you done? What have you done?" Hercules held Iolaus tightly against his chest, watched helplessly as the light faded from his friend's face.

"I had to...do this...Herc; wanted to...." Iolaus wanted to say more, but his strength was gone and he was fast slipping away. He gripped Hercules' hand as hard as he could as he held Herc's gaze with his own. "It's alright...Herc, no...regrets. Always… loved...you," he sighed as his eyes clouded and his lids closed. Hercules felt the grip on his hand loosen; felt Iolaus quiver once in his arms, and then....nothing.

Herc's lips trembled and tears spilled onto his cheeks. He pulled Iolaus up against him. Wracked with a pain so great he wanted to scream - wanted to tear down this Temple in a frenzy of fury - wanted to, wanted –

Sobs shook his body. "No," he rasped into Iolaus' hair, "No, please, Iolaus...don’t...."

Hercules felt a hand touch his shoulder in sympathy and he jerked away. Looking up, he saw Aphrodite's grief-stricken face. "What have you done?" he demanded, his voice cracking. "Aphrodite - what have you done to him? Why?"

"I'm sorry, Hercules," she murmured, "There was no one else who could do this - bring Zeus's soul back, give him the energy to return to life. Only Iolaus. I'm so sorry."

“Iolaus did this? To bring Zeus back?” Herc couldn’t believe it.

“No, not exactly,” Aphrodite quailed at the prospect of telling Hercules the truth, but she knew she owed it to him. “Iolaus...Iolaus agreed to bring the Rainbow Crystal here in exchange for your life. Hercules, he knew the risks. We needed to restore the balance of power before all of creation was destroyed. There was no other way....”

“You held my life hostage, to force him -” Hercules choked on the words. He stared at her in horror. They had done this to Iolaus; killed him. To return a god to life; a god that would not even have been dead if Hercules had not killed him. Hercules moaned with overwhelming guilt, devastated by grief as he rocked Iolaus' lifeless body in his arms.

Gradually, the shock and horror faded, to be replaced by rage. 'No,' he thought, 'this isn't right. They owe him - they owe him his life.'

Standing, Hercules lifted the broken and battered, blood-spattered body of his friend into his arms. Aphrodite stepped back when she saw the rage - the madness - in his eyes.

"Take me to Zeus, Aphrodite. Take me there NOW!" he commanded his sister.

"Hercules, no; Zeus won't help you. Even if he forgives you for what you did, you killed him; he won't help you now." Aphrodite spoke softly, calmly, hoping to restore some measure of sanity to her distraught brother.

"I don't care what Zeus thinks of me or does to me. He owes Iolaus; he would not be alive if not for Iolaus' sacrifice. TAKE ME TO ZEUS, NOW!!!!" Hercules roared in fury and grief.

Aphrodite held his eyes for a moment more, then lowered her gaze to Iolaus. Nodding to herself, acknowledging in her own heart that Hercules was right - they did owe this mortal - she lifted her arms and the three of them disappeared in a sparkle of light.

When Aphrodite lowered her arms, the three appeared in the centre of the Great Reception Hall of Zeus' Temple. The cavernous space was ablaze with light, life and laughter. Gods and Goddesses were celebrating the return of their king - and the return of balance and peace to Olympus. Some were happier than others; Ares thin smile looked a bit forced. But all were present: none would dare to be absent. The appearance of two rumpled, bloodstained warriors in the midst of the glitter was like an open wound on the face of perfection.

A hush fell across the hall as all turned to stare at the intruders.

Hercules looked across the Hall toward his father, captured his eyes with his own. Slowly, holding Iolaus in his arms, Hercules walked across the hall until he was at the foot of the dais upon which his father sat on his throne. Zeus looked from Hercules to Iolaus, and then back at his son.

Hercules would never beg for himself; but for Iolaus, he would do anything. Gazing down at the lifeless face of his friend, Herc swallowed and blinked away the burn in his eyes. "Father," he began, "Iolaus died to bring you back. He...he doesn't deserve to die for that." Hercules’ voice cracked and he had to pause before he could go on. "Please, Father; in return for the gift of your life, return his life to him."

Hercules had been looking at Iolaus as he had made the plea, but now he turned his eyes back to his Father. "Punish me if you wish. Take my life in trade if need be - but let him live." Herc slipped to his knees before his Father, holding Iolaus close against his chest. "Please, Father. I beg you for his life."

Silence reigned in the Great Hall. Zeus gazed upon his son, the best loved of all his children. The son who had fought him - killed him - to prevent Zeus from perpetrating a great evil. Zeus had always been proud of this angry, strong, righteous man. Turning his eyes from Hercules, Zeus looked with sorrow upon the broken body of Iolaus, the valiant warrior who had always stood by his son, who would gladly give his life in defence of others; courageous, loyal, the best among mortals. The mortal had risked all and given his life to bring the Rainbow Crystal back from the Garden of Souls.

Zeus stood and slowly walked down the steps to his son. Hercules bowed his head, waiting for Zeus' decision, not knowing if his Father would restore life to Iolaus - or if he would kill Hercules in retribution. If his Father would not return Iolaus to him, Hercules hoped that his Father would take his life; he did not want to live without Iolaus. Hercules had been through that and knew he could never live with that grief again. They would be together in Elysium, with their families, and there a kind of peace in that.

The gathering of Gods and Goddesses on Olympus saw Zeus pause before Hercules, watched as Zeus placed one hand on Iolaus' head, and the other upon the head of his son.

Watched as Hercules and Iolaus vanished from sight.

Hercules blinked and found himself back in the cave in the mountains between Corinth and Thebes. He was still kneeling, holding Iolaus in his arms. A fire was flickering and dusk had fallen outside. Their blankets and gear, Iolaus' bag and sword, were all there. Herc was afraid to look at his friend, but finally forced himself to search Iolaus' face for signs of life.

Iolaus was still pale, cold and gray with the shadow of death. Hercules thought his heart would break - then, softly, Iolaus took a breath, and then another. Holding him, Hercules could feel the warmth come back into his friend's body; could see the cuts and bruises begin to heal. Letting go of his pain and the fear, Hercules wept in abject relief.

Holding Iolaus close, shuddering with great, wrenching sobs, he lost track of time until he felt Iolaus stir in his arms, felt Iolaus hug him tightly. He heard the soothing assurances, “I’m okay, Hercules. Everything’s good – hey, easy, shhh, we’re okay, buddy. We’re okay.”

Gradually, Hercules brought himself back under control. Lifting his head, he looked at Iolaus, marvelling to see his irrepressible and so well treasured grin as he brushed the tears from Herc's face.

"Hey, Hercules, anyone would think you were glad to have me back!"

Herc sniffed and found he was smiling in return. He hugged Iolaus tightly before, finally, letting him go. Gently, he helped Iolaus to sit up, and they both leaned against the stone wall of the narrow cave. For long moments, Herc could do nothing but gaze in wonder at his friend.

Iolaus was alive. Thank Zeus - Iolaus was alive.

Iolaus smiled gently at Hercules, "Hey, c'mon buddy; you're making me nervous. Would you say something?"

"I thought you were dead. I thought I had lost you."

His smile fading, Iolaus looked away. "Yeah, I thought I was dead, too. Charon was giving me hell for showing up – again – without the price of a ride across the Styx.” Iolaus chuckled at the memory as he looked back at Hercules. "So, how did you get me back this time?"

Hercules paused as he gazed at Iolaus, remembering that Iolaus had been unconscious after he had put the Rainbow Crystal on the altar. "You don't know, do you? You don't know what you've done: Zeus is alive. You brought him back to Olympus."

Iolaus gaped at Hercules, "Zeus is alive? I brought him back?"

"The Rainbow Crystal," Hercules explained, “held the essence of Zeus: it was his gateway between Olympus and the Garden of Souls."

Iolaus was speechless. He had known the Crystal held great power but, somehow, it had never occurred to him that it could be possible to actually restore Zeus to life. Wow! Iolaus looked back at Hercules and a smile lit up his face. "This is great! The war between the gods is over now, right?"

Hercules nodded, "Yes. Zeus is back in control, or as much in control as anyone can be of that lot." Herc paused, his expression solemn, before he added, "You saved my life and you've given my Father back to me. Iolaus...I..." he shook his head, lost for words. How did you thank someone for lifting the grief and guilt of having killed your own father? How did you thank someone who had embraced death to save your life? When he looked back up at Iolaus, Hercules could see that his friend understood, as he always understood. Smiling at Iolaus, Hercules simply murmured, "Thank you, my friend."

Iolaus ducked his head, acknowledging the thanks, but not wanting Hercules to be too grateful. Iolaus hadn't known what he was doing when he went after the Crystal; he'd had no idea that he held Zeus' life in his hands. All he'd known was that he was doing it all to save Herc's life - and for that, Herc didn't have to thank him. It was enough that he was alive; that was all Iolaus had ever wanted.

Hercules cleared his throat "So, are you going to tell me all the details. It must have been some adventure!"

Iolaus chuckled, "Yeah, it was." Looking up at his friend, his eyes sparkling with mischief, Iolaus teased, "But, it's a very long story. Maybe we should hunt up something to eat first. I’ve been on the run for days and I'm starving!"

Finis

Disclaimer: In my universe, Zeus never died, was never killed by Hercules...so, I had to make things right in your universe, too! No monsters were killed in the writing of this story, but two very cute 'children' were returned to Echidna and Typhon, courtesy of Artemis' bow!

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