"Xena?"

The warrior princess put down the card that Polyeidus had given her and looked up at Bellerophon. After the old servant had given her the message, they had all gathered around a table in Waylon’s Inn to discuss the Chimaera. Even the farmer that had lost his family was present, along with a few other villagers. Xena was happy to have them. The more information they had, the better off they’d be. Still, she’d found it hard to concentrate without Gabrielle there. Based on the card and the "Joxer the Mighty" reference, she knew the message was from Gabrielle. And she felt she could trust Polyeidus. Still, why did her friend feel the need to return to the Temple of Mnemosyne? It disturbed her, and yet she had no basis for chasing Gabrielle down. She’d left her free to travel there once before, and things had worked out for the best. Gabrielle was her own person, and obviously this was something Xena was going to have to get used to. Besides, maybe she could take care of this supposed monster without her friend. It would give her much more freedom without someone to worry about.

Xena noticed that the room was silent, except for the crackling of the fire.

"Xena, do you think it’s hopeless?" Bellerophon stated.

"What? Destroying this Chimaera?" She shook her head. "Nothing’s impossible. We just have to find its weaknesses and capitalize on them."

"They say it has no weaknesses," said an older villager.

"Describe it to us in every detail. Everything you can remember," she said.

The farmer, whose name was Telion, spoke first. "It’s very large—about the length of four men. The head and front legs are those of a great lion, with a mane, and very large fangs. It can spew fire from its mouth."

"How far?"

"I’d say at least ten paces."

"You say the rest of the body is that of a goat?"

"Yes," answered another man. "With the hind feet as well. It’s fast and surefooted. The mountain rocks don’t give it any trouble."

"This snake tail. It’s got a head?"

"Yes, and it’s full of deadly poison. I watched it paralyze an ox in a matter of heartbeats."

Xena leaned forward on the table. "Well, it looks as though it will take a lot of strategy to hit this thing in the right spot. However, I assume like any other goat, it’s heart should be in the same place. It’ll help that there will be two of us."

"Three," said Telion.

"Four," added another villager.

"It won’t help how many of you there are. There’s only one way to really take care of that thing." This came from Polyeidus, who had not spoken the entire time.

Bellerophon’s eyes opened wide. "And how is that?"

"From the air," said the old man calmly.

There were several murmurs heard throughout the room, and even a few snickers, but Xena stared unperturbed at him. "How would we go about doing that?"

"On the back of Pegasus, the winged steed."

Telion and his companions burst out laughing, and even Xena smiled indulgently. "Polyeidus, no offense, but no one knows if he even exists anymore. There haven’t been any stories of him for years."

"Oh, he exists, doesn’t he, my boy?" He turned to Bellerophon, who looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I told you when the king gave you this quest that this is what you would have to do, and you agreed. After all, Pegasus visits the Fountain of Pirene, which is in your home of Cenchreae. It was the only way I thought I might not have your blood on my hands, having given you the king’s task in the first place."

"Speaking of which," broke in Xena, "Why did Iobates give Bellerophon this job at all? You must have some knowledge of his reasoning."

"Why wouldn’t he?" questioned the youth. "I’ve done my share of fighting and killing, and Iobates knew it!"

"Shut up," Xena said without taking her eyes off of the old man. "Answer me, Polyeidus."

He looked apologetically at Philonoe, then at Bellerophon. "The letter the king received from King Proetus mentioned that Bellerophon had made some unwanted advances towards Antia."

Bellerophon slammed his fist on the table. "That’s a lie!"

Xena placed her hand on his. "I told you to be quiet," she said gently. "We know it’s a lie. Right, Philonoe?"

"Yes," answered the young girl quietly, and grasped his other hand in hers. He calmed down somewhat, although his face was flushed in embarrassment.

"Now go on," said Xena.

"I knew it was a lie," Polyeidus continued. "But it wasn’t my decision. Proetus was demanding that as his father-in-law, Iobates kill you himself. Proetus obviously had some problem with killing a guest under his roof that he didn’t think would apply to Iobates."

"I knew Proetus couldn’t be trusted," Xena murmured. "That’s why I left Joxer there in case Bellerophon returned. At least it sounds like Joxer’s safe, though, as long as he’s Proetus’s guest."

Polyeidus continued. "I hate to say it, but I can’t honestly say that Iobates would have thought twice about disposing of you, Bellerophon. However, I convinced him of the folly of this, and told him to at least pierce two sparrows with one arrow, so to speak, by sending you after this unstoppable Chimaera that had been plaguing Lycia."

"Polyeidus!" Philonoe cried.

The old man looked heartsick. "I’m sorry, my child, but your father could have killed him instantly. At least this way I thought he stood a chance--especially if he took my advice about attacking from the sky."

"But my father is dead. The task can remain unfulfilled. No one is asking you to do this thing now, Bellerophon."

"I have to, Sweet. Don’t you see? I gave my word."

"To a crazed old man who wanted you dead, and who is no longer king! Xena, talk some sense into him." She turned desperately to the warrior.

Xena was silent for several moments, and everyone there was beginning to think she was lost in her own thoughts again before she finally spoke.

"Bellerophon, I understand about giving your word, but this isn’t some theater drama or boys’ game that we’re playing."

"Look," he said, growing red, "I don’t have to—"

Xena raised her voice, and her blue eyes grew steely. "What you do have to do is think like a man. If you really feel that it’s important to keep this task from the king, then you must take it."

"I do."

She continued. "But you’ll be receiving help from me and anyone else that offers it. And we are going to think about all our options, including taking some time to check out Polyeidus’s idea. Do you understand?"

For a moment, she thought he was going to protest, but after heaving a great sigh, he nodded. "I understand."

"Good."

"But Xena—" started Philonoe in a hurt tone.

"And you, Philonoe. With your father gone you are the queen of Lycia."

Several people gasped, including Philonoe. Evidently this thought had not crossed their minds.

"But I’m not qualified to—"

"You’re the daughter of the king and you seem to have a kind heart and a good head on your shoulders. In those last two respects, you’re overqualified compared to most of the rulers I’ve met. You’re also not plagued with some curse. Now this country will need a leader. Are you up to that? Or do you want to watch a lot of people get killed trying to take over an empty throne?"

Philonoe’s shoulders slumped. "I don’t want that. I suppose you’re right." Her eyes brightened. "But as queen I do not wish for this young man or anyone else to risk their lives chasing after this creature."

"Philonoe!" cried Bellerophon.

"Fine," said Xena quietly. "But you do know, I suppose, that many of your subjects will lose theirs as this monster gets bolder and bolder. With no one to stop it, it’ll wreak havoc all over Lycia, including this city. This is probably the best opportunity to get rid of it, while you’ve got all of us working together and it’s still out near the mountain range and away from people. As queen, however, it’s up to you." Xena stood and walked over to the fire. "Waylon, how about some of that cider you’ve been talking about?"

Waylon shook himself out of his daze and scurried to get her what she wanted. Bellerophon stalked outside into the cool night air. The tension in the room was palpable. Finally, the new queen spoke.

"You will look after everyone, won’t you Xena?"

"I can’t promise that everything will be perfect, but I’ll do my best to destroy this thing without getting us all killed."

Xena saw Bellerophon peeking over the inn doors.

"All right. But you must go to Cenchreae first and do your best to capture this Pegasus creature."

"We will," Xena promised. Bellerophon strode back into the inn and embraced the young girl. Then, suddenly conscious of the other people in the room, he tried to kneel to the new monarch.

"Oh, get up," she said blushing, and everyone burst into laughter.

"Polyeidus," Xena called. He bustled over.

"The Fountain of Pirene at Cenchreae, you say?"

"It’s still his favorite haunt, I’ve heard."

"All right. I want you to go to Mnemosyne and tell Gabrielle to stay put until we get there. You do the same. We should be able to pick you both up in ten days’ time, whether we’re successful or not."

The old man coughed nervously. "So you intend to take her with you to face the Chimaera?"

Xena raised a suspicisous brow. "Of course. She can provide a lot of help. Besides," she added with a smile, "she’d kill me if I let her miss a good storytelling opportunity like this."

"Right, right," the old man muttered, and asked Waylon for a large mug of ale. For some reason he looked as if he needed it.

Gabrielle leaned back and bathed her face with a cool cloth. It had been a hard trip from Xanthos, with no human contact, and it felt good to actually have someone nearby. The priestess had commanded her servants to keep their distance, but she herself had proved to be a great source of comfort since Gabrielle’s arrival. The young bard allowed herself to stare at the priestess for a moment. Everything about her was sleek and reassuring, from her smooth blond hair, to her flowing robe, to her soothing voice.

Gabrielle was grateful for the calming effect. The journey here had been grueling. After Polyeidus had left her, Gabrielle had scrounged through the castle until she had been able to find a large hooded cloak and some rags. She had made sure that every inch of her body was covered, including her hands, and had found that this had helped. With her hands wrapped tightly, she had grabbed hold of several plants outside the castle, and found that none of them were affected. However, on the last leg of her journey, a tree branch had torn a hole in her cloak and her exposed arm spread a path of death over any plants it touched. This incident made her more determined than ever to seek help from some quarter. Even if she wrapped herself up like a mummy, she knew there would always be the chance of an accident, and she couldn’t bear the thought of that.

"You have painful memories once again, Gabrielle." The soft voice of the priestess broke into her thoughts.

She sat up. "Yes."

"But the help you seek is not the same as last time."

Gabrielle shook her head uncertainly. "No, no. . . I don’t think so. I mean, last time I had the choice of discarding my painful memories, but I would lose precious ones as well."

"That is correct," replied the priestess. She stepped back to contemplate the young woman. "But if you lose these new memories—"

"I’ll forget that I have the curse and possibly cause the deaths of many people."

The priestess said nothing, but Gabrielle could tell that she agreed. Gabrielle stood up and began to pace.

"So there is nothing that you or the goddess Mnemosyne can do to remove this?"

"Only the god who gave the curse can remove it. And Bacchus was—"

"Killed by Xena. I know." Gabrielle sighed and leaned against a cool stone pillar that supported the temple. "I know."

"You haven’t told Xena. Why not?"

"Because I wanted to spare her the pain right now until I found out a few things." And I wanted to solve one of my own problems for once. Without seeing that look of suffering on her face.

"Gabrielle, are you sure that keeping this from her is the best for both of you?"

Gabrielle bit her lip. That’s what I get for coming to a place where they can read your mind.

"I just wish to help you."

This time Gabrielle snorted in frustration. She turned from the pillar and after a few moments, her eyes focused in on the hundreds of clay bowls at the front of the temple. Each one was filled with liquid, and she knew from past experience that they contained the memories of each person that had ever entered this place. She stared at them momentarily, and then walked slowly up to them. Walking past the rows of bowls, she suddenly stopped and touched one of them.

"This one’s mine," she said, surprised that she was so assured of it.

"Yes."

She looked harder, then ran her finger gently along the edge of another one. "And this one’s Xena’s."

"Yes."

"I never knew she entered the Temple."

"She had been to us before. That is how she knew of its healing powers for you."

Suddenly, Gabrielle felt a ray of hope. Turning, she walked quickly up to the woman.

"Priestess, if this curse can’t be lifted, what about Xena’s memory of it when I tell her? Couldn’t she erase it by drinking her bowl?"

"She could."

"So all of her painful memories, including that one, would disappear."

"That is true, but her joyful ones would be gone as well."

Gabrielle set her jaw and turned away. "Well, yes, but she wouldn’t have to deal with all this pain."

After a moment’s silence, Gabrielle felt the presence of the priestess just behind her. "Gabrielle, do you actually think that Xena would be willing to give up all of her memories just to spare herself the pain?"

The young woman’s shoulders sagged. "No." But within moments, she was excited again. "But couldn’t we just pour out her bowl and spare her that? Do what’s best for her own good?"

"Do you honestly think that would be the right thing to do?"

Gabrielle didn’t answer.

"Besides," the priestess continued, "Only the individual can make the choice about his or her memories. It wouldn’t work even if I allowed you to do it."

"So there’s no hope then," Gabrielle stated, and her voice was low and hoarse.

"You can always tell her the truth and see what happens."

Gabrielle’s temper flared. "I intend to tell her the truth! I just thought that you could rid me of this curse, or spare both of us this pain—something. . . " Her voice trailed off. She suddenly felt very tired. More so than she had ever felt in her life. "I just wanted to stop existing for a while. It’s obvious that my body’s already done that. It can’t die, and it can’t help others live."

The priestess looked at her for several minutes, and her expression softened. Very quietly, she spoke.

"There is a way, Gabrielle, but it is very drastic. And it will be extremely painful for you."

Gabrielle felt her heart skip a beat as she looked up at the woman.

"Show me," she said softly.

Bellerophon let out a great sigh as he stared at the fire.

"Missing someone?" Xena asked quietly as she sharpened her sword.

She and Bellerophon were camped just outside of Cenchreae, not far from the Fountain of Pirene. They had decided to camp close to the fountain in order to keep an eye out for Pegasus. Word was that the winged horse only came in the dead of night. Besides, Bellerophon had wished to avoid the city crowds for fear of being recognized, and Xena agreed with him. Nevertheless, she had made sure a message had been sent to King Glaucus telling of her success at finding his son, and that she would bring him home soon. At least she hoped to.

The young man blushed at her question. "Just a little," he said, and tossed a stick into the fire.

Xena was quiet for a few moments, but after hearing him sigh again, she spoke up. "Really, Bellerophon, I know you miss Philonoe, but it’s for the best that she isn’t here."

" I know that," he replied.

"She’s got a job to do as queen, and you’ve got something to accomplish here." Xena grimaced as she worked harder at what she was doing. "Believe me, sometimes it’s best when the people we care about aren’t around to distract us. We’re better at doing our jobs." Bellerophon looked doubtful for a moment, then raised his brows and nodded his head in reluctant agreement. For a long while both of them were silent.

"I didn’t mean to kill him, you know."

Xena looked up momentarily, but said nothing. She continued to hone her blade. She knew the young man would want to talk eventually, but there had been no need in forcing it. She just needed to be ready to listen. A little something she had learned from Gabrielle.

"It was an accident."

"I knew that," she replied quietly.

"Yes, Xena, but I was angry with him. He was my brother, but Deliades could make me angrier than anyone else on earth. You know what I mean?"

"I definitely do," she smiled. Gabrielle.

"We had had an argument earlier in the day. I don’t even remember what started it. Isn’t that funny?"

Xena decided that this was a question he didn’t really want answered and simply looked at him to let him know he had her attention.

He stood up and began to pace back and forth near the fire. "Deliades was two years younger than me, but he was nearly the same size and as strong as a bull." He smiled. "Mother said he had grown at an abnormal rate just so he could keep up with me. We liked to compete, you know." He walked to a nearby tree and began tugging at the leaves. "That was how it happened. Ever since I was about twelve we had gone down to the river and played. One day we found a massive tree that had fallen across. It was a good bit above the water, and pretty wide. Just right for walking across.

"One day after witnessing some soldier training at court, Del suggested that we try a little sparring out on that tree. It was a challenge, and I knew it. I also knew a fall into that roaring water could be dangerous, but I wasn’t about to let my little brother call me a coward. You understand?"

Xena grunted. "I had brothers, too, you know."

"Well, we did this for years, and we had some close calls. We both took our share of tumbles off that log, and got swept downstream until the flow of the water grew calmer. Still, it was a lot of fun, and we went there all the time. We always told our parents that we had been swimming. If they had found out what we were really doing, we would have been horsewhipped, I’m sure." He stopped talking and just stared ahead of him, his hand resting on the twig of the tree. The only sound was the crackle of the fire and the scraping of Xena’s stone against her blade.

His voice grew very soft. "Well, that’s where we were that day. Like I said, we had a big argument at the castle, in front of several soldiers and servants. They had all seen how angry we both were, so that brought on a lot of the trouble later.Deliades took off one direction and I went in another, but by afternoon we both wound up at that tree. We got out there on that thing, and I’m telling you it was one unbelievable battle! We were even using our swords--which wasn’t smart--but we didn’t care. After a little bit, Del nicked me with his, and when he saw the blood, he turned as white as a sheet. I knew he was sorry the minute he did it, but I was angry that my little brother had gotten the better of me. I attacked him with all the fury I could, and he began to back across the log. When I knocked the sword out of his hand, he looked totally beaten, but that still wasn’t good enough for me. I tossed my sword into the water and started wrestling with him. He told me I was crazy, and I suddenly realized he was right. I stopped and looked at him and then we both began to laugh. That’s how it always was with us. Storms of temper blew up fast and hard, but they were always gone quickly. Still, there was nothing wrong with a good wrestling match. We laughed and did our best to throw each other headlong into the river, and finally he just smiled at me and said, ‘Race you home!’ I’ll never forget that smile on his face. You know how somebody can look at you once a certain way and you never forget it?"

Xena nodded. I certainly do. Hadn’t she seen the look of sacrifice and love on Gabrielle’s face when she jumped into that lava pit trying to save her? And she had that same look in that crucifixion vision. She must have replayed those moments a thousand times in her mind, trying to see how she could have stopped the one and avoid the other.

"Anyway, that was the last time I ever saw him. He dove into the water and I followed close behind. I didn’t see him when I came ashore farther down, but I assumed he was either running like the wind for home or that he was behind me. Either way, I knew I had to hurry. I couldn’t lose to my little brother.

"When I got home, and he wasn’t there, I didn’t think much of it. I stood around a while, ready to gloat. When he didn’t show up, I decided he had gotten distracted somewhere and I bathed and changed. It was later that my father called for me. I heard my mother crying before I knew anything else. She was . . ." He stopped and Xena put her sword away and just watched him, content to let him tell her at his own pace. He ran his fingers through his golden curls, and turned his back to her.

"She was kneeling on the floor cradling Del. He was all wet and he had a huge gash on his head. He wasn’t moving. Without asking, I knew that he was dead. Nothing would have kept him from trying to get home to beat me. I knew that now.

"A bunch of servants and soldiers told my father that we had been fighting and had left angry. I guess that I felt guilty for the anger I had shown to Del all day. I even felt guilty that we had been racing. I felt responsible. You know what I mean?"

"Bellerophon, you can’t blame yourself for your brother’s death. It was an accident. He would tell you the same thing. When he died, you two were friends."

He sat back down and stared at the fire before finally looking up at her. "I know that now, but at the time, I still felt guilty. I was very defensive, and that didn’t help matters much. I could see the doubt in my parents’ eyes, and that hurt worse than anything. I just decided to leave. I acted like a criminal."

"But your parents had faith in you."

Bellerophon clenched his teeth. "Only after that village boy came to them and told them that he had seen us laughing and wrestling up on that tree. They had to have somebody else’s word before they would take mine."

Xena went over and clasped his shoulder. "That’s not true. Your father sent for me to find you before that boy ever showed up."

He looked up at her quizzically.

"And it wasn’t to punish you for a crime. He just wanted his son back. The boy didn’t appear until the morning we were leaving."

"Really?"

"Really." She sat down next to him. "You weren’t angry with your brother when he died. You can be grateful for that. But you have been angry with your parents. Believe me, Bellerophon, anger will get you nowhere. Hate will utterly destroy you."

"You’re thinking about how you used to be--before Hercules helped you."

Now it was Xena’s turn to look quizzical.

"Yes, I know the story. We all do."

"Actually, I was thinking of more recent events."

Bellerophon had the good sense to sit and be quiet.

"I tried to kill Gabrielle once, you know."

The young man looked at her in shock. "What? Your young friend you spent so much time looking for in Xanthos?"

"Yes."

"But why? Even Philonoe and Polyeidus made a comment about how devoted you were."

"It was nothing but hatred. I blamed her for the death of my son, when in reality the reasons he died could be traced back to seeds my own hatred had already planted in other people."

"What happened?"

"My son Solan was able to help us. His spirit somehow taught us to turn away from the hate and back toward love and understanding. We were very fortunate." She clasped his arm again. "And so were you. Your brother died knowing that you loved him. That’s a great gift, Bellerophon." Xena rose and walked over to the blanket she had placed on the ground.

"Xena?"

"Yes?"

"If we can’t do anything about Pegausus during the day tomorrow, would it be all right if I sneak into the castle for a little and talk to my mother and father?"

"I think that is an excellent idea." He could just see the flash of her teeth in the flickering light.

"I feel bad that I’ve made them go through this."

"But you’ve realized that hatred harbored in your heart doesn’t do any good. You’ve conquered the hardest part, Bellerophon." The corner of her mouth quirked. "You just might be hero material after all."

He blushed slightly and then lay down on his blanket. "Right, Xena," he said sarcastically, but she could still see the grin on his face from where she was.

Gabrielle gasped as she stared at the room before her. It was filled with nothing but candles. They burned in every corner and crevice of the chamber, and they were in all kinds of sizes and shapes. Some were small and nondescript, while others were nearly as tall as she was. Many of them looked as though they could be used to light a peasant’s cottage, with bland coloring and smooth sides, except for a few spots where the wax trickled down. Still others had elaborate designs carved in them, or mounds of wax buildup that had obviously accumulated over years of burning.

She followed the priestess down a narrow path that wound its way from the entrance and split off at various intervals throughout the room. They reached a dais at the far end, and the goddess pointed at a relatively short candle that was a soft coral color and had a few intricate designs carved towards the base. "That is yours," she said regally.

Gabrielle shifted her feet uncomfortably and leaned in for a closer look at the candle. "Uh-huh," she finally managed to utter. After a few moments of silence, she asked, "What does it mean?"

"Gabrielle, when you came here before, you were given a bowl that contained all of your memories. Draining the bowl would erase your memories. Each person that enters has one of them." She turned and faced the back of the room. "But everyone also has one of these."

"A candle."

"Of remembrance. Whereas the bowl represents each memory that you have, the candle represents all the memories and thoughts others have of you."

Gabrielle knit her brows. "Pretty much what others think of me."

"Yes. All their memories, thoughts, opinions, even brief encounters. Each recollection of you, both good and bad, continues as long as the candle burns.

"When a mortal dies, the bowl stays the same. No more memories are gathered there because that person has ceased to live, but the candle goes on burning until no one remembers you ever existed."

"So as long as someone remembers you, your candle could go on burning."

The priestess nodded.

Gabrielle gulped. "Why have you brought me here?"

"I think you know, Gabrielle. You said you wanted to take away Xena’s painful memories of you. Those memories, along with her good thoughts of you, have helped make that candle."

"But candles wear down the longer they burn."

"And bowls of water don’t contain memories. But you’re in the realm of the gods now, Gabrielle. Look closely at the candles."

Gabrielle did as she was told, and as she stared at the flame, she was amazed to see that wax was running down the wick and building upon the rest of the candle. Each candle got bigger the longer it burned! She was silent a moment and then she asked, "Where’s Xena’s candle?"

The priestess hesitated briefly, but then she pointed to a nearby monstrosity that came to Gabrielle’s waist. It was covered with wax buildup and carvings, some of which weren’t all that pleasant, and the middle section of the candle contained segments that were completely black.

Xena’s dark past.

"Why is her candle so big?"

She heard the woman sigh. "Is this about you, or about Xena, Gabrielle? Just like the bowl, you can make no decision that involves Xena’s candle. We are here to decide your fate, not hers."

Gabrielle lowered her head and turned back to her candle. "I’m sorry. So what are you telling me then?"

"I understand your problem. I also understand that I cannot do anything about your curse. I’m giving you the rare opportunity to blow out your candle."

The young bard’s head came up at this. "You mean to snuff out my existence?"

The priestess shook her head. "No. Only the Fates could do something like that. If you blow out the flame, you simply erase the memory of your existence in everyone that has ever met you."

"But isn’t that the same thing?"

"It’s a matter of opinion. Many people would say so. Understand that you yourself will not cease to exist. Your body will still be here, with the curse and its dangers. All the things you’ve accomplished and the things you’ve made will still remain done. No one will remember them, that’s all."

"But how could that be?"

"It’s simpler than you might think, Gabrielle. Your deeds will be attributed to someone or something else—sometimes ‘luck’ will be mentioned. You’ll become something that people just can’t quite place or remember. If you were to see people you’ve known, you’ll be the person who looks so familiar to them. ‘Have we met before?’ they will ask. Haven’t you experienced this yourself with people you’ve met?"

"Yes, but—you mean?" She didn’t finish the question because the priestess was already nodding in response.

"Those poor people," Gabrielle murmured.

"Yes, Gabrielle. And you are about to join them. I want you to think long and hard about this."

Gabrielle took a deep breath. "I have thought about it."

The priestess stepped dangerously close. "Then understand this—you won’t be able to be around anyone again."

"Yes, I know. The curse."

"It’s not just the curse, Gabrielle. Blowing out the Candle of Remembrance is a very delicate thing. Flames smolder and smoke for a long time, always hoping to be fanned to life once again. You will not be allowed contact with anyone that knew you. The consequences are too dangerous. Once the decision is made, it must be allowed to remain permanent. Do you understand?"

"I understand," she said and turned back towards her candle. But with a tug on her sleeve, the usually gentle goddess spun her around. Gabrielle stared in shock at the woman’s fingertips resting on her clothing, but the priestess seemed unaware or unconcerned about the potential danger she was in.

"Do you understand? No memories. No contact. Your life on earth is over, but you will remain, fully aware of everything. Family. Friends. Acquaintances."

Xena. Gabrielle gently tugged her sleeve free of the priestess’s grasp. "I do understand," she answered hoarsely. "And I thank you for this opportunity. It’s for the best, I think."

The greater good.

The woman stepped away. "All right. One strong breath. Fast and clean."

Gabrielle leaned down so close to the coral candle that she could feel the heat of it on her cheek. She looked at it for a moment, almost hypnotized by the flickering flame.

Blinking back tears, she took a deep breath and blew. The flame sputtered for just a moment, and then disappeared, leaving only a small trail of smoke that drifted lazily into the air before vanishing entirely. The only proof that it—and she—had ever existed.

Xena sat straight up and looked wildly about her. Grabbing her chakram, she hopped up and walked cautiously around the edges of the barely burning fire. Had she heard something? She listened. There were only the normal night sounds, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness. Bellerophon was breathing steadily over on his side of the fire, and Argo whickered pleasantly from not far away. Everything was in its place, and yet . . .

And wondering why in the world she had sent Polyeidus on an unnecessary trip to the Temple of Mnemosyne. She must have had a reason, but for the life of her she couldn’t think of what it was.

Gabrielle sat on the balustrade that ran around the back of the Temple of Mnemosyne. Far below, she could hear the roar of a raging river that raced through a gorge that she had seen in the daylight. She stared up at the stars and sighed, then turned back to the shadows below her.

If I jumped, it just might kill me. Iobates did die. Maybe he just didn’t try hard enough before.

"Such thoughts are not worthy of you, Gabrielle."

She nearly fell off the banister at the sound of the voice behind her. She hopped down onto the stone balcony and faced the priestess.

"You shouldn’t sneak up on the people like that."

"I called your name twice, but you were lost in your own thoughts."

"Priestess, what am I going to do? I can’t help people or travel anymore. My life with Xena is over."

"And you’re feeling sorry for yourself, aren’t you?"

"Wouldn’t you?" Gabrielle turned her back towards the woman and shook her head. When she spoke again, her voice was full of tension. "Oh, no, I forget. You would just go right on living and serving others. It wouldn’t affect a noble person like you one bit. You’d be a servant of mankind. Never mind the fact that one touch of your fingertip will sap them of life."

"I don’t know what I would do, Gabrielle," replied the priestess quietly. "But I do know what you have done in the past."

"What do you mean?" the young bard asked somewhat indifferently.

"When you realized that your daughter Hope was the embodiment of evil, you poisoned her."

There was no response, but the priestess saw Gabrielle grasp the banister so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"You thought about using the poison on yourself, but you stopped. Why?"

"I thought it was the easy way out. Xena had chosen to live with her grief in the loss of Solan. I didn’t want to do any less."

"Neither can you do any less here."

Gabrielle turned and walked toward her. "But that was different. I thought I could still help people. Help Xena. I had a purpose."

Now it was the priestess’s turn to walk to the rail and lean on it. "Gabrielle, why did you follow Xena when you first met her?"

"I wanted adventure, and I wanted to be like her."

"Is that all, Bard?" She emphasized the last word.

Gabrielle tilted her head. "Well, yes, of course, I wanted to tell stories, and I thought watching Xena was a prime opportunity."

"Gabrielle, do you know why Xena’s candle is so much larger than yours?"

"I guess it’s because she’s met more people, done more things, and influenced a lot more lives."

The priestess shook her head. "Not really." Gabrielle could just see her hand move in a beckoning gesture. "Come here."

She moved again to the rail, but kept a safe distance between the two of them. The priestess turned towards the temple and pointed towards her right. As Gabrielle looked, she noticed several windows and could just make out hundreds of glowing candles within.

"Which ones do you notice?"

"The taller, larger ones obviously."

"They belong to heroes."

"Of course." Her reply sounded bitter, even to her own ears.

"And thieves. And murderers."

"What?"

"And cowards. Kings, queens, fools . . . and gods." The priestess took a breath and glanced sidelong at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Gabrielle, they belong to those who are remembered through storytelling. One of the reasons Xena’s candle burns so brightly is because of you and the stories that you tell about her. They spread her reputation—and her memory—far and wide. And they’ll be around long after the warrior princess is gone."

The bard stared at the candles until they became a blur through the tears gathering in her eyes.

"You started telling others about Xena because you thought they should know. Many people already knew about the dark part of her life, but the strong good part has been spread because of you."

"So I have helped," Gabrielle whispered.

"And you can help again."

Gabrielle turned towards the priestess.

"You don’t have to touch people with your hands to touch their hearts, Gabrielle. As a poet and a storyteller, you already knew that. You’ve just forgotten it briefly in all this ugliness. It’s up to you to decide if you still want to help people, including Xena, by doing what you do best."

Gabrielle wiped her eyes and sniffed. "But how?"

"We have scrolls and quills here. And there’s a village nearby full of people who would just love a good tale. I can send a guard with you to make sure they keep their distance, or the guard can go himself with your writings. Either way your voice will be heard—and your life will not be a waste."

"Thank you, Priestess," was all she could finally get out.

"It is my job to help people remember things, Gabrielle. Especially their duty."

It was late afternoon when Xena heard Bellerophon ride up.

"Have a good visit?" She barely looked up from the pile of ropes, bridles, and other bits of equipment she was checking for tonight’s watch for Pegasus.

The young man leaped lightly off his horse and ran up to her. In his hands he held the blade and hilt of a sword that had obviously been separated by great force.

Xena stood. "You didn’t get into any fights in town did you?" Her eyes narrowed in displeasure.

"No! No," he stammered. He held up the two objects. "Look, Xena! It’s Deliades’s sword. The one I knocked out of his hand the last time we fought. I couldn’t believe I found it. The current was so strong that it had rolled it a ways, and even smashed it against a few big rocks. That would account for its condition."

"I’m glad you found it. Now, I want you to look over these pieces of equipment that—"

"Xena, don’t you think that’s lucky? I know it’s broken, but with a good blacksmith, I could—"

The warrior princess shook her head. "You could do nothing."

"What do you mean? I intended to use this to fight the Chimaera. I think Del wanted me to have it. I think somehow he helped me find it."

Xena put her hand on his. "Look, Bellerophon, I know it means a lot to you. And if you want to, pack it in your saddlebag and save it to put in your castle one day. But that sword will never be any good for fighting."

Bellerophon’s nostrils flared. "How do you know?"

"Because I’ve dealt a lot with weapons, believe me." She gently took the two pieces from his hands. "Do you see how it’s made a clean break here? They were meant to work together as one piece. If you try pushing them back, it may look good, but there will be a weakness at that point. The minute it hits anything remotely solid, the weak part will give way."

He stared at the two pieces for a minute, then tossed them to the ground and proceeded to take care of his horse.

After a moment, Xena picked them up and carried them to him.

"I know it’s hard to face, but a blade and a hilt are definitely two things that are meant to be together. If you’ve got one or the other, or they’re separated, they become useless—at least as a weapon. However," she added, pressing the two pieces into his hands, "That doesn’t mean they can’t mean something to you. Keep them with you—in remembrance of your brother. Use another weapon to fight the Chimaera." She smiled at him until he finally returned the grin, then went back to her equipment check.

Xena held her breath as she watched the magnificent winged horse lower his head and drink from the Fountain of Pirene. It was the second night he had come, but she felt just as awed as when she had first seen him. The moonlight bounced off his white flanks, and his wings made a soft rustling as he folded them inward and settled down to graze.

They had watched him most of the previous night, but she had told Bellerophon to make no move until the following evening at least. She felt they needed to know more about his movements, particularly his takeoffs and landings. Besides, the more comfortable he felt at the fountain, the better chance they would have of capturing him. She made a soft owl call. Pegasus looked up momentarily, but then went back to grazing. Good. She did it again and the horse didn’t even flinch.

Third time’s the charm. The sound echoed across the valley and across the water of the flowing fountain. She checked the end of her long rope to make sure it was securely tied around a nearby cedar tree. Once this was established, she grabbed the unsecured coils and crouched behind a large boulder. Because she was facing the horse, the plan was for Bellerophon to make the first move. He too had a rope that was secured to a tree. The idea was to take the other end, throw it around some part of Pegasus, and let him wear himself out trying to uproot two trees. Once he calmed down, they’d work on getting him used to human company. Xena strained her eyes to their utmost, trying to distinguish her partner in the gloom, but at this point, she saw no movement. She gave the call again. Nothing.

The winged stallion began to paw at the earth and toss his head. Xena knew time was running out, but she couldn’t risk trying to catch him with one rope. If she missed or it didn’t hold him, they’d never see him at this spot again, and all of their chances would be gone. After awhile, the horse gently spread his wings to their full width, flapped them two times, and trotted away. Within moments, he had reached a full gallop, and with a great pounding, his hooves left the ground and he glided into the cool night air and out of sight.

That kid had better be severely injured, thought Xena. Because he’s gonna be when I find him. She stalked around the fountain and reached the grove of trees that served as Bellerophon’s hiding place. In a moment, she saw his body on the ground, his head resting against the base of a trunk.

"Bellerophon!" She rushed up to him, and was relieved to see him sit up quickly. "What’s the matter? Are you injured?"

He rubbed his head. "Uh, no."

Xena sighed. "Then what have you been doing for the past half hour while I called?"

"You called? Maybe you weren’t loud enough. Because you see. . ."

She kicked him none too lightly in the ribs.

"Ow!"

"You’ve been asleep, haven’t you? You stupid idiot! I’m over there hooting like a barn owl, and you’re taking naps."

"Is he gone?"

She whirled away and headed back towards her hideout. "Of course he’s gone. Get your gear. The hunt’s over for tonight!"

They gathered their things and began to make the long walk to where they had left the horses. There was silence for a long time, and then Bellerophon cleared his throat.

"I’m sorry Xena. It’s just that. . . well,. . . you see, I was thinking about Philonoe, and—"

He cried out as a pop was heard and he felt a terrible sting on his backside. Xena recoiled her rope and continued to walk. "What did you do that for?" he asked as he rubbed his posterior.

"I told you that thinking about the people we love when we’ve got something to do is not a good idea. They just serve to distract us from what needs to be done. And many times, an enemy can use them against you."

Bellerophon smiled. "What? You think Pegasus might somehow find out about Philonoe and take her hostage just to threaten me?"

"You know exactly what I mean," she grumbled. Then she added, "I can always leave you here with your father and continue on my way."

The young man grew very serious. "Now, look, Xena, I was just tired from seeing my parents today. I’m glad I did it, but it was tiring. And I do miss Philonoe."

By this time, they had reached the horses and Xena quickly got up on Argo. Her voice softened just a bit. "I know, but thinking about other people doesn’t serve our purpose right now. Believe me, if our friend Pegasus back there had someone to distract him, he’d be a lot easier to—" She stopped and tilted her head slightly.

Bellerophon mounted his mare. "What? Do you hear something?"

She guided Argo next to him and he could see her white teeth in the moon’s glow.

"Yes, Bellerophon. I hear the whisper of love in the air—and the angry snorts of a winged horse that’s about to be caught—by us."

Gabrielle sighed and tentatively touched the quill in front of her. Then she gently brushed her fingertips across the scroll. Nothing happened, and she inched her chair closer to the small table. Of course, nothing should have happened, but after refraining from touching anything for days, it was a great relief to know here was something that she couldn’t kill. And these objects were things that were as familiar to her as weapons were to Xena.

She thought for a moment, reviewing all of the adventures they had had together. Now what do I want to write about? If only I had all my other scrolls . . .

Knocking back her chair, she rushed quickly through the elaborate temple until she located the priestess.

"Yes?" The woman turned calmly around.

"My scrolls—all the ones I’ve written. Did they disappear when I blew out my candle?"

"No, Gabrielle. I told you that all of the things you accomplished and made would still exist."

Gabrielle’s eyes widened in horror and her throat went dry. "Xena’s got my scrolls. I keep them in one of her saddlebags!"

For the first time, Gabrielle noticed that the priestess looked disturbed "I had not thought of this."

"So this has never happened before."

"Mementos are always left, of course, but not such an extensive record as you would leave behind."

"What could happen?" Gabrielle almost didn’t want to ask the question.

For a long moment, the priestess was silent. She pursed her lips and frowned. "I can’t honestly say. But there is nothing to be done about it now."

Gabrielle threw both hands into the air. "Great! Just great!"

"Gabrielle, more than likely Xena will find them and attribute them to Joxer or someone else she has traveled with."

"Joxer! There is no way that anyone could mistake my writings for something that Joxer came up with! I can’t believe that—"

"Gabrielle!" The priestess’s voice was sharp. It reminded Gabrielle of her mother’s when she had done something terribly wrong. Gabrielle placed her hands on her hips and screwed up her mouth, but she did shut it.

"As I’ve told you before, this is not about you anymore. It’s about others, and it is impossible to rekindle the flame on a Candle of Remembrance. I have never seen it happen."

Gabrielle blinked in embarrassment. "I’m sorry," she murmured and wandered back to her table in the other room.

Well, Gabrielle, I guess you get to start from the very beginning.

 

 

 

Xena watched carefully from behind her boulder as Argo calmly grazed near the gushing fountain. This was their second night to leave the horse there, and hopefully it would be a repeat of last night. Pegasus had come—and had taken a liking to the pretty mare. Neither had Argo seemed to have any problem taking up with the winged stallion.

The little tramp, Xena grinned to herself.

Hopefully, this equine love affair was going to pay off. Xena had forbidden Bellerophon to interfere last night. She knew that they were taking chances enough introducing a new horse into the fountain’s environment, and she decided that Pegasus might be jumpy. Tonight, however, she felt they had to move. Days were passing by. Days in which the Chimaera was wreaking havoc in Lycia. And they still had to pick up Polyeidus near the Temple of Mnemosyne because she had sent him there for the gods knew what reason.

She jerked her head up as she heard the beat of mighty wings. She could only hope that Bellerophon was listening and alert as well. The horse alighted softly not far from Argo, and the mare whinnied. After drinking from the fountain, he sidled near her and began to graze. Every once in a while, one of them would nip the other or whicker. After what seemed an eternity, Xena gave the call of the owl. This was to be the signal. If Bellerophon was sleeping tonight, then she was definitely going to leave him with his father for good.

It looked as if that wouldn’t be necessary, however. After a moment, she heard the call of a hawk—his signal that he was ready. She was farther downwind of the horses, so she would have to make the first move. Creeping out from the rock on bent knees, she checked her rope to make sure the loop was ready to swing, and slowly began to move across the ground. Both horses were still grazing, and their backs were towards her. When she was about twenty paces away, she bent her knees and gave a mighty spring. Somersaulting through the air, she let out a whistle to let Argo know she was on her way. Landing squarely on the mare’s back, she immediately threw the loop of her rope toward Pegasus’s head. The winged animal had already spun at the sound of her whistle, but now he let out a scream of fury.

Xena jerked the rope and was relieved to find that there was tension on the other end. She had hit her mark. Grabbing Argo’s mane, she kicked the horse into a gallop and headed to her right, where there was a sturdy cedar tree near the edge of the fountain. "Now, Bellerophon!" she called, only hoping the young man was already acting out their plan.

It turned out that he was. Pounding out from a grove of trees, Bellerophon and his mount found themselves next to the galloping stallion, who had already spread his wings and was about to hit full stride as he headed away from the fountain. His front feet were already leaving the ground. Whirling the rope around his head, Bellerophon tossed it just as Pegasus dove by him. "All set, Xena?" he yelled as they galloped back toward his grove of trees.

Xena guided Argo around the cedar tree once. It was none too soon. Immediately, the rope went taut and she heard an enraged neigh from Pegasus.

"Set!" she called back.

On the other side of Pegasus, Bellerophon executed the same move around a large oak. He wrapped an extra loop of rope around the pommel of his saddle for added support, knowing that Xena would have no such advantage on the unsaddled Argo. Placing his feet in the stirrups, he gritted his teeth and waited.

When the great steed of the gods realized that he could not go up or forward, he reared in anger. Ducking his head, he turned back toward the fountain and galloped hard for it. Racing past on Bellerophon’s side, it only took a few strides for him to realize that he could go no farther in that direction. Meanwhile, Xena and Bellerophon were tightening the ropes every chance they could get. The less room the horse had to move, the easier their job would be.

Although from the looks of it, thought Xena, this isn’t going to be easy no matter what.

Snorting and screaming in derision, Pegasus flapped his wings and threw out his back legs violently. This went on without end for some time.

"He’s a fighter!" called Bellerophon from the woods.

"Let’s hope so!" she replied. "He’s going to face the Chimaera, remember?"

The moon had made much progress in the night sky before the horse finally became completely still. His sides were wet with foam, and heaved up and down as he blew the air in and out noisily.

Poor thing, thought Xena. It always pained her to see some wild creature trapped, and for a moment she felt guilty about what they were doing. Then she shook her head.

In a few more minutes, she hopped off Argo and sent the mare over to him with a slap. He snorted again and pawed the ground.

Feels betrayed, Xena noted. But like her rider, Argo wasn’t one to give up. She nuzzled and bumped the stallion until he finally seemed to relent somewhat and nipped at her.

"Should I try to get near him now?" called Bellerophon.

"No!" she called back. "Make sure your rope is secured and then walk in front of him over to my side."

While Bellerophon followed these orders, Xena tied her rope around the cedar tree. They certainly didn’t want to lose their prize at this stage of the game.

When the young man passed by Pegasus, the horse began to buck and neigh all over again. Bellerophon hurried over to Xena.

"Now what?"

"We wait."

"But it’s been four days and—"

"We wait!"

He plopped down on the ground and began angrily plucking blades of grass.

Xena sat next to him, never taking her eyes off the horses. "You’re right. It’s been four days, so one or two more won’t make any difference."

"What are we doing anyway?" He sounded like he was eight years old.

"Letting him get used to not having his own way. A lesson many of us have to learn in life." She cut her eyes at him and his lip came out. "The first step in taming him is letting him understand the feeling of being controlled by something else. He can’t leave now, and he can’t move all that far. It may not seem like much to us, but to a creature that’s never known anything but freedom, it’s a huge step."

Throughout what was left of the night and the beginning of the new day, Xena forced Bellerophon to take many of these steps as she guided him towards taming the winged horse. The young man was brave, but also gentle, and she was relieved to find that he had a way about him when it came to actually dealing with animals. By late afternoon, Pegasus was allowing himself to be touched by the youth. By the time Xena hunted them up some supper, Bellerophon had gotten Pegasus to take a bridle, and by sundown, he was sitting astride the magnificent beast. Of course, this step hadn’t come without much bucking and screaming again, and Bellerophon had the cuts and bruises to prove it.

The moon was overhead once more when Xena took a rope and tied it around the withers of Pegasus. She made it fairly snug, but left enough room to slide her arm under it.

"What’s that for?"

"Wrap your ankles under that on either side."

"It’s a little tight," he grimaced.

"You won’t be thinking that when he tries to throw you off over the sea."

Bellerophon did as he was told, then gulped. Xena looked up at him.

"We have to set him free at one point or another. You’ve got to be able to ride him in any situation in order to face the Chimaera." She checked the rope again. "You ready?"

He clenched his jaws and nodded.

"All right. Remember the rope here. That bridle’s not going to hold you on him once he’s airborne."

"Right." His voice was tense and she almost felt sorry for him, but she untied the ropes at the horse’s neck anyway. For a moment nothing happened. Pegasus had been held immobile for so long that he couldn’t believe he was free. But this didn’t last long. Springing forward, he took off at a lightning pace and spread his wings. Bellerophon leaned against his neck, one hand wrapped in the horse’s bridle and mane, and the other under the rope she had tied around the shoulders. Within moments, they were off the ground and climbing through the sky at an unbelievable rate.

Xena sat down to wait. Either they’d come back together and they’d be that much closer to fighting the Chimaera, or she’d never see either one of them again. She could only hope it would be the former.

Polyeidus jumped as a strong hand grasped his shoulder. Turning around with a slight gasp, his look of surprise changed to one of delight.

"Xena!"

The tall warrior smiled at him, then grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the midst of the crowd he was in. It was only when they had moved several paces away from everyone that she stopped to speak with him.

"We just arrived. We’ll be leaving in the morning. That should put us in Xanthos by late tomorrow. We’ll spend the next day watching the Chimaera and making our plans."

"The Chimaera! So you succeeded in—"

"Yes!" She glanced around a bit nervously. "Yes, we caught him. But believe me, it wasn’t easy."

"Where is he now?"

"She lowered her voice even further. "Bellerophon has him a good bit outside of town. It’s not like a winged horse wouldn’t attract a lot of unwanted attention."

He nodded eagerly. "Right."

Xena glanced around them. "Especially in this spot. What’s going on here? A town meeting?"

Polyeidus smiled. "Oh no, nothing that serious. Actually it’s quite pleasant. A storyteller comes from the Temple and entertains every night. It’s only begun just recently, but she is very good. Extroardinary, actually. I think you would find her tales very . . . um. . . interesting."

Xena glanced around them again. "Hmm."

Polyeidus could tell she had barely heard what he had said. He decided to go ahead and get his unpleasant business over with.

"Xena, I know I probably should have been doing more important things than listening to stories, but to be honest, I couldn’t remember exactly what you sent me here for. I suppose it comes from being an old man, but I know it’s still no excuse."

Xena shifted her feet and wiped her hand on her thigh as if to rid it of sweat.

"Yeah, right. Well, look. Bellerophon succeeded in Cenchreae, so I think all we’ll need to do now is get to Xanthos and get ready to fight the Chimaera. Back-up plans aren’t necessary at this point. So don’t worry about it." She slapped his shoulder good-naturedly. "I’m going to pick up a few supplies here. Then we’ll head out to camp."

The old man looked behind him, towards the far end of a clearing in the village where a large bonfire burned. The space was empty, and the group of people he had just left were gathered about twenty paces away from it.

"Xena, would it be all right if I listen to , uh. . ."

"The storyteller while I get what I need?" She smiled again. "Sure. I’ll be back in a few minutes."

She hurriedly walked away, quite happy to have gotten around the embarrassing subject of why Polyeidus was here in the first place. She made it quite easily to the stables. It seemed that most people in this small village had turned out for the paltry entertainment near the bonfire. As she walked, she went over and over her orders to Polyeidus to go to Mnemosyne, and why she might have sent him there. Unlike the servant, she couldn’t use age as an excuse for her absent-mindedness, and it frustrated her to no end.

Once inside the stables, she finally found a young man who was able to sell her some tack and a few bags of grain for a special snack for their mounts. The way she saw it, the animals should enjoy every little pleasure possible before they were asked to face the incredible monster in Lycia. This went for Polyeidus as well, so she took her time walking back toward the crowd in the village and even decided she’d let the storyteller finish before she would fetch the old man. As she neared the people, she was struck by the absolute stillness of the crowd. It was almost as if every one of them were holding their breaths.

She leaned up against a tree on the outskirts of the circle and began to think about how to kill the Chimaera. The voice of the bard rang clear across the opening and even above the roaring fire.

A pleasant voice, that, she noted absently. Almost like I’ve heard it before—a lot. It makes me feel . . . calm. She shook her head as if to clear it. Now about this monster. If we—

Xena looked up. She had distinctly heard her name mentioned. Suddenly she focused in on the familiar voice that had already mesmerized everyone else there.

". . . to fight for the townspeople who had already been so cruel to her. But this didn’t matter to Xena. She was determined to do what was right, whether it was appreciated or not.

Draco had chosen staffs as the fighting weapons, but Xena had retained the right to choose the conditions. And do you know what she chose?" The woman paused for just the briefest of moments and Xena could feel the dramatic tension in the crowd stretch tighter. By the gods, she herself was almost holding her breath, and she had been there. She smiled as the girl continued.

"She chose a shaky scaffolding that was behind Draco. Draco ordered his men to kill the first person that touched the ground, and then he flipped up onto the scaffolding with a push from one of his men. Xena flipped up there too, of course, but she used the backs of Draco’s own men to do it after she had made them double over with a good blow from her staff."

Several people in the crowd laughed with delight, and the storyteller continued, her voice wafting through the night air like a magic song. Xena began to slowly pace around the perimeter of the trees, her dark figure blending in with the shadows cast by the bonfire. Even if she hadn’t been so wraithlike, it wouldn’t have mattered. Everyone there was determined to catch every phrase uttered by the storyteller.

Xena stopped and stared in shock when she was finally able to get a full view of the source of all this knowledge.

About twenty paces from the crowd stood two figures, both of whom were cloaked. The taller of the two stood behind the other, almost in the shadows, and never moved at all. His hood remained down, but the face it revealed was completely passionless. His eyes slowly surveyed the crowd.

A guardian, she thought. And of the Temple of Mnemosyne, from his robe.

The other figure was hooded and cloaked, but it stood in the glow of the fire and threw its arms up wildly as a fountain of words gushed forth from it.

The storyteller.

Xena noticed that every inch of the woman was covered, including her hands. She could also tell even from here that the bard was small. And fairly young, too, from her voice.

Xena stopped and focused on her words again.

"But she didn’t kill Draco because she was trying to get away from that dark part of her past. She simply made him promise to leave the valley and not return. And he kept his word. Honor among thieves, you might say. Plus, he knew Xena would tear him limb from limb if he didn’t do what she said."

Xena crossed her arms and smiled.

"And of course all that was important, but the most important thing was the change that had come over the people of Amphipolis, especially Cyrene, Xena’s mother. They had rejected her and mistrusted her the entire time because of all the evil and selfish things she had embraced in the past, but this time she had saved them without shedding the blood of the village men or seeking to lead an army to glory. When the great warrior princess felt her mother embrace her and tell her that she loved her, it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her heart."

Xena dropped her arms and crept closer. She was starting to feel unnerved. How could the storyteller know about feelings like that? Why would she? Bards were supposed to recount deeds, not crawl around inside people’s heads.

"So Xena travels the country now helping people, as Hercules does. Yet she knows that every blow she strikes for good is balanced by one in the past that destroyed innocent people and changed countless lives. But then again, that’s what makes her a truly great hero. She’s overcome her mistakes. She doesn’t let them overcome her. And in that one way, at least, we can all be heroes just like her."

"Even me?" came the sincere voice of a very young boy at the front of the crowd. Everyone laughed good-naturedly, including the bard.

"Even you," came the reply.

The people clapped and began to disperse. The storyteller quickly turned and began to follow the tall guardian into the shadow of the woods behind her. Xena knew she should go get Polyeidus, but she couldn’t resist an urge to speak to this person who had such strange insight into her past. Walking quickly, she got within a few paces of the two, and then called out. The storyteller simply froze in her tracks, her back still to the warrior princess. The tall man stepped between them.

"Stop!" he called out and held up his hand. "Don’t you know that no one is to speak to the storyteller once she leaves the village? Neither is anyone to get closer than a stone’s toss."

"I’m sorry," Xena muttered. "I’m new in town. Didn’t know she was such the celebrity." She took another step and the guardian moved forward with a threatening look on his face. Blinking lazily, she backed up a few paces and threw out a comment to the bard.

"Your story was . . . interesting. Where’d you hear it in the first place?"

For what seemed an eternity, there was no answer. Xena had finally decided she’d better stop wasting her time when the hooded figure turned around slowly. Her voice shook as she spoke.

"Um—I—uh, heard it from a man that had been living in Amphipolis at the time."

"Well, you tell it well."

"Really?" Although she couldn’t see her face, Xena just knew the storyteller was smiling with self-satisfaction.

She felt glad to have given her a compliment, although she didn’t really know why.

Well, enough of this. She had things to get on with. It would have been interesting to find out the story behind this tale teller, but it was really none of her business. Besides, she didn’t want to have to rough up a priest of Mnemosyne. That would come a little too close to the old Xena.

She turned back toward the village, but called out by way of parting.

"Keep up the good work, but don’t make too much of your heroes—especially Xena. They’re just people with faults like you and me."

"But that’s what makes them heroes, isn’t it? They’re people with problems, and yet they try to help everyone else with theirs."

Xena thought for moment, then quirked the corner of her mouth and bowed her head towards the young bard, conceding the point. She turned and headed back towards the village, never noticing that the hooded figure didn’t move a muscle until she was out of sight.

When she reached Polyeidus, she plied him with questions about the storyteller, but found that he knew as little of her as she herself did.

Oh, well. It’s not my concern.

Gabrielle paced back and forth in her room at the Temple. She was trembling from head to toe with fear, joy, and heartache as well.

Great gods of Olympus! I never expected to see her again. What is she doing here? She heard movement behind her and turned to see the priestess enter.

"What is she doing here?" she voiced out loud.

"I do not know," came the soft answer. "But you limited your contact with her?"

"We just exchanged a few words," Gabrielle replied shakily. And she never recognized my voice.

Gabrielle hadn’t really believed the candle would work until tonight, but Xena had truly forgotten her. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

"Then I think it will be all right."

"She didn’t recognize my voice, but she was suspicious about my stories." There was a moment’s pause.

"She said I told them well."

"I’m glad you are pleased. Hopefully she will be leaving soon. In the meantime, I believe it will be best if you stop telling your stories in town for a few days."

Gabrielle looked disappointed, but nodded in agreement. As the priestess turned to go, she heard the girl give a quick intake of breath.

"What is it?"

"My scrolls! I need to get them."

"Gabrielle, we already discussed this. It is a shame that Xena has your scrolls, but they will be dismissed along with all the other aspects of your past life. It would be far more dangerous for you to risk another encounter with her. I do not like the fact that you two have met already. Now stay here until she is gone."

"All right." Gabrielle plopped down in a chair and the priestess left.

She grabbed her cloak and wrapped her hands tightly before tiptoeing down the hall and out a side door of the Temple.

Creeping through the dark woods, Gabrielle caught her breath when she noticed a fire not far ahead.

It must belong to Xena.

It had taken quite a bit of asking outside some of the livelier taverns for her to get some general directions as to where the tall warrior woman had last been seen. From their discussions, Gabrielle had also decided that Xena was in the company of Polyeidus. She wondered what the old man was doing traveling with her, but it was really none of her business.

Xena none of my business. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that, she thought sadly.

As she drew nearer to the fire, she lifted her cloak so as not to rustle any leaves underfoot. She made sure to stay well into the woods, not letting even the slightest hint of campfire glow touch her figure. As she circled through the trees and moved slightly closer, she was able to make out three figures on the ground.

After observing for several minutes and noticing that none of them moved, she squinted at the wooded area on the other side and saw what she had hoped.

Argo. Yep, this was definitely the right camp.

Backing deeper into the forest, she began to painstakingly creep around the camp in a circular pattern, until she found herself directly behind the horses. She had barely glanced at them until now as she eased up near them, having kept her eyes on the three sleeping people near the fire. Looking up completely for the first time, she nearly cried out as she spied two enormous white wings on the huge horse next to Argo.

Gabrielle felt the weight on her heart grow even heavier. What a story was here! What adventures Xena must be up to! And she was part of them no longer.

"Is this about you or Xena, Gabrielle?" It was almost as if the priestess were right next to her. Goaded by her own thoughts, she concentrated on getting near the camp without startling the mare or the other two mounts. It definitely wouldn’t do to upset that winged creature.

Just ahead of Argo, and within close reach of the sleeping Xena, Gabrielle could make out the saddlebags.

Still keeps them in the same place. Although why she wouldn’t, I don’t know, she thought somewhat foolishly. It’s not as if her whole life has changed, Gabrielle, just because she doesn’t remember you.

The thought made her pause for just a moment and sigh. Within a heartbeat, though, she was moving again. She crept nearer and nearer, her heart beating so wildly that she felt sure Xena would hear it. Every step was agony, because it took an eternity to move. She didn’t want to rustle a leaf or even touch a twig. Finally, she found herself standing over the saddlebags. She glanced at Xena. No movement, heavy breathing. Good. Kneeling down and slowly lifting up the flap, she reached inside and was relieved to feel the smooth texture of parchment. One at a time, she began to pull them out, making sure not to rattle the paper as she did so. Taking a sack from her shoulder, she began to carefully place them inside. She was more than halfway done, and still no movement from any of the sleepers.

"Eeeeeiya!"

Gabrielle dropped everything as a piercing war cry rang out in the night air. She felt a heavy blow to her back and collapsed face first in the dirt. Almost immediately, she felt the pressure of a booted foot at her neck.

She could only think of one thing.

"Please don’t touch me!" she cried out.

"And why shouldn’t I?’ she heard a familiar voice growl. "I don’t take kindly to people getting into my things."

"Xena! What’s going on?" It was the voice of a young man that Gabrielle didn’t recognize.

Then there was some huffing and puffing and the sound of heavy footsteps.

"Great heavens above, Xena! I believe it’s the storyteller!" This came from Polyeidus.

The boot pressed more firmly into her neck.

"Well, she had better tell a pretty good story as to why she’s here or it just might be her last."

"Is it all right if I sit up?"

It was quiet for a moment, then Gabrielle felt the foot come off her neck.

Thank the gods! She certainly didn’t want Xena touching her and taking a risk. Placing her hands slowly above her head, she rolled onto her back. Then she sat up.

"What were you doing, Bard?" asked old Polyeidus.

Gabrielle risked a glance at Xena. Fortunately the hood on her cloak had not revealed her face, or everything they had done might be for nothing. She had no idea how that candle thing worked.

Think Gabrielle. Think fast. She risked a glance at the scrolls, which were scattered between her satchel and the saddlebag. Got it! She changed her voice to a tone of deep discomfort.

"Well, you see, it’s kind of embarrassing, and a little arrogant. I’m almost ashamed to mention it . . ."

"Out with it!" Xena said, and took a threatening step toward her.

"Okay, okay! I decided that if I put some of my stories in your bag, you’d find them later and read them. I thought it might be a good way to get them spread around the country, and also to check their accuracy, if they traveled off with the great warrior princess herself."

"Why didn’t you just ask?" Xena questioned in an annoyed tone.

"Would you have listened?"

Xena opened her mouth for a reply, then raised her eyebrow and remained silent.

"That’s what I thought. It was a stupid idea, and I’m sorry. Now if you’ll just let me gather my things, I’ll be on my way, never to trouble you good people again." She leaned down and began to slowly gather the parchments, placing them in her satchel. As she reached for the last one, her sleeve moved up slightly, exposing her wrist for the merest of seconds. She felt the rough scrape of bark against her skin, and stared in horror as a thick root beneath her began to change to black. She jerked her hand back and covered the wrist, but it was too late. The flow of death traveled slowly up the root towards the base of a large oak tree. The other thick roots soon turned the same shade and then the massive trunk began to undergo the change. As the creeping death moved up the body of the tree and spread to the branches, black leaves began to flutter to the ground. Risking a glance at the three people around her, Gabrielle saw surprise on the faces of Xena and the young man, but absolute terror on the face of Polyeidus. Terror and understanding.

"What’s the matter with you?" whispered the boy.

"I won’t hurt you," Gabrielle said, standing slowly. "At least not on purpose. That’s why I have to get back to the Temple."

"And that’s why you’re covered from head to toe," said Xena.

"Yes. May I go now? I’m sorry for all of this." She glanced nervously at the now dead tree. Fortunately, the disease did not look as though it was going to hit anything else. The tree and its roots were free from entanglements with other plants. There were a few weeds at the bottom that turned black, but everything else appeared fine.

"Yes," replied the warrior princess quietly. "Go on."

Gabrielle stumbled out of the cleared area, anxious to get away as quickly as possible.

That was the stupidest idea I’ve ever had. She thought back over her life for a moment. Well, okay, one of the stupidest. What did you think you were doing?

As Gabrielle made her way through the woods, mentally arguing with herself, Xena turned to her companions.

"Well, they might do better to keep our storytelling friend inside the Temple all the time. Now, you two try to go back to sleep. You’re going to need your rest."

Bellerophon shook his head in amazement, then headed back to his bed roll, but Polyeidus just stood there in apparent shock.

Xena gently prodded him. "Go on, Polyeidus. Everything’s all right."

"Xena, I’ve seen this before."

"What? That?" She indicated the dead tree.

"Yes. Iobates had it."

"You’re saying it’s the same curse that the king had?"

"Yes." He sat down shakily on a log.

Xena slowly eased herself to the ground as well. "Tell me all about it," she said with a sudden glint in her eye.

"Alalalalalalala!"

Gabrielle slowly stirred in her bed.

Dreaming about Xena’s battles, she thought without opening her eyes.

Then she heard another yell and the sound of the temple door crashing open and hitting the stone wall.

I’m not dreaming.

Grabbing her cloak, she quickly threw it on and began tightly wrapping her hands as she crept out into the hall.

"Xena! How dare you disturb the peace of this temple!" The priestess’s voice was filled with anger and a little fear.

"I’m sorry, but we need to see the storyteller," came the calm reply.

"I’m afraid that is not possible."

"It’s not only possible, it’s inevitable. It just depends on whether you choose the easy way or the hard one."

"Xena, we will not give in to—"

"Wait!" Gabrielle stepped out from behind a pillar. From this view she could see that Xena was accompanied by the young man and Polyeidus. "What do you want?"

Xena stepped back. "Polyeidus?"

The old man came toward Gabrielle. "My dear, I couldn’t help but notice what you did to that tree last night."

She made no response, so he continued. "I once knew someone who was affected in a similar way. Did you happen to receive this curse from Bacchus?"

Gabrielle hesitated for just a moment. What should she do? She certainly couldn’t tell them the truth. Finally she just nodded.

"Everything you touch dies, and you yourself cannot be killed?"

"I can’t touch anything, that’s right. As far as the dying thing, I can’t say that I’ve tried to kill myself yet, so I don’t know."

Xena stepped forward again. "Look, we’re going to the kingdom of Lycia to slay a dangerous creature called the Chimaera. Have you heard of it?"

Gabrielle nodded.

"We could sure use this ability you have."

Gabrielle said nothing, but turned towards the priestess. The woman bit her lip and shook her head negatively.

Polyeidus came even nearer. "My child, if Iobates had used his curse to help others in this way, perhaps his life wouldn’t have been as wasteful as it was. I don’t know what kind of deal you made with Bacchus, but this could be your chance at redemption."

I don’t need redemption, thought Gabrielle. I didn’t make a deal with Bacchus. I just got stuck with this. Why shouldn’t I get on with my life the best I can?

"And of course you’d get first crack at any story that comes from this," added the obviously clever young man.

Xena moved forward again. "Look, I don’t care about your redemption, and I don’t care about any stories. We’ve got a job to do. The sooner we get on with it, the more lives that might be spared. You can go or not, but make a decision quickly. We’ve wasted enough time already." She turned and stalked out of the temple. The youth followed her, but Polyeidus stood with his hands clasped and a hopeful look on his face.

Gabrielle walked over to the priestess, and they moved out of earshot of the old man.

"This isn’t exactly like the Xena I know," she whispered. " She seems a little . . ." She searched for the right word. "Harsh." For a moment she thought of Xena as she had been when she battled the primitive warriors known simply as the Horde.

The priestess snorted in exasperation. "That’s because you don’t know her. And she’s never known you. Gabrielle, I cannot recommend this under any circumstances."

"But if I can help—"

"You can hurt more than you can help. It’s not just the curse anymore. These people knew you. Every moment you spend with them could mean dangerous consequences."

Gabrielle bit her lip in thought. "Like what?"

"Like frustration, the reversal of everything you hoped to accomplish when you blew out the candle--even madness for them. As usual, you are focusing on yourself again. You want to be the hero, to overshadow Xena."

"That’s not true!" Gabrielle felt the blood rushing to her face. "Everything I’ve done has been for Xena!"

"Nothing but hurt can come from deceiving yourself. Remember your last visit here."

That cinched it. "Look, I’m going," Gabrielle said through clenched teeth.

The priestess gasped.

"If I can kill this thing with one touch, then I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t try. Iobates should have done more things like that. And when I come back—and I will—I’ll have a great story to share with others."

The priestess sighed and turned away.

"I’ll never leave again!" Gabrielle called out. "I promise!"

"You must find peace with yourself, Gabrielle, before your promises can mean anything to others." With that, she disappeared through the far door.

Gabrielle looked up to see Polyeidus smiling nervously at her.

"Well, let’s go," she said, not without a feeling of uneasiness.

This is the right thing, she thought as they headed into the sunlight.

Gabrielle looked at her scrolls by the light of the flickering campfire. She was in the process of deleting any references to herself. It was turning into quite a job. She didn’t realize how often she had focused on herself in many of the stories. Maybe the priestess had been right.

Not too far away, Xena, Polyeidus, and the young man Bellerophon were at their own campfire. Gabrielle had insisted on separation while they traveled, and none of the others had argued. They had reached Xanthos earlier in the evening, but Xena had decided to camp outside town, not wanting to draw attention to their strange band. Besides, this would put them closer to the lair of the Chimaera in the morning. The warrior princess had stated that it would be a good idea to observe the creature before they made any plans.

"Know your enemy," she had said.

Even now, she was sharpening her sword as Polyeidus and Bellerophon discussed the coming adventure.

Gabrielle glanced across the gloom and firelight at the warrior.

How she had missed that sound! How many times had she gone to sleep with the rhythmic scrape of stone on metal and felt completely secure in the knowledge that Xena would be prepared for whatever came their way?

She saw movement, and within moments, old Polyeidus was standing nearby. He held out a rough wooden bowl with something steaming inside.

"How about some stew, my dear?"

"No thanks."

"But you have to be hungry. You haven’t eaten since you’ve been with us."

"But I evidently don’t have to eat, Polyeidus. At least it would seem that way. You of all people should know that."

"We can guess that you won’t starve to death, if that’s what you mean, but you could surely get weak and tired from hunger. You still feel the effects, my child. I know that from being with Iobates."

"He’s right!" Xena called. "Eat that. We need you alert and strong for the fight with this thing."

Still bossing me around, Gabrielle, thought, but not without a smile of affection.

"All right. I’ll eat it as soon as I finish."

Polyeidus craned his neck and stared at the storyteller.

"What are you doing, if you don’t mind my asking?"

She hesitated for a moment. "I’ve decided to go back and take some unnecessary things out. It makes the story better." At this point she reached the end of the scroll. Without hesitation, she took her quill and blackened out the signature at the bottom.

Polyeidus frowned. "You just marked out the signature!"

Gabrielle hurriedly rolled up the scroll. The old man had better eyesight than she had given him credit for. Hopefully, he hadn’t actually seen the name.

"Yes," she said, reaching for the soup. She took a sip. "This is delicious!" she called across the night air. "Who made it?"

Her attempt at changing the subject didn’t work.

"But why did you do that?" asked the old man. "I see no reasoning for it."

Gabrielle tapped her fingers nervously against the sides of her bowl. "A wise woman once said that it didn’t matter who received the credit as long as knowledge was passed on. It doesn’t matter who wrote the stories, just what they’re about."

Several paces away, Xena’s head jerked up.

Lao Ma. Xena had heard those same words from one of her mentors in a faraway kingdom many, many years ago.

She stood up and looked suspiciously across the distance at the hooded figure. How did the girl know that?

She began to pace around the fire.

"What’s the matter, Xena?" asked Bellerophon.

"Nothing," she lied. There was no need starting anything tonight.

But if they survived the Chimaera, she had every intention of learning all there was to know about the bard, whether the girl wanted her to or not.

They heard the monster before they ever saw it. So did the sheep in the Kinik Plain below them. Xena had insisted on bringing the animals and setting them loose in the valley below.

"If we see how this thing hunts, then we’ll know better how it’s going to react to us," she had said, and no one had disagreed with her. In addition to Xena, Gabrielle, and Polyeidus, two farmers-- Telion and Acheus-- had joined them in their quest. They were stationed behind the many boulders that lined the upper hill above Xanthos.

Looking far across the valley, Gabrielle could see light reflecting off a mirror carried by Bellerophon. It was the young man’s signal that he and Pegasus were in place. Xena had told them to go farther down and closer, realizing that the winged horse would have to get used to the sight, sound, and smell of the Chimaera if he were going to be of any use fighting it.

At first, Gabrielle hadn’t realized what they were listening to, thinking perhaps a storm was on the way. But there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and Xena had whispered to them that it was the creature, drawn to the valley by the bleating of the sheep. The poor animals began to make even more noise and trot restlessly in different directions. The sound of the Chimaera grew louder, and Xena flashed a mirror back at Bellerophon to let him know that he and Pegasus must be ready to take flight at any moment to avoid danger. After a few moments more, the three sheep turned as one and began to run the length of the valley, towards the east. It was then that the Chimaera slunk into view. Even Xena gasped as it rounded a rock at the western end of the plain and moved into plain sight.

It was at least the length of three horses, and its head was definitely that of a male lion, it’s scraggly mane hanging down and clotted in places with what appeared to be blood. Its lips were drawn back slightly, revealing long yellow fangs that were glistening with saliva. The front legs matched the head, with thick lion’s paws and sharp claws on each foot. Behind this the golden coat of the lion blended into the white hair of a goat, with hind legs and hooves to match. As the creature came to a set of rough boulders, it used its front paws to grasp the rock before scrambling over the top with the agile hooves at the rear. The most fearsome part of its anatomy, however, was its long tail. Measuring almost the entire length of its body, the tail gave the appearance of being a perfectly formed snake, with a triangular head at the end that watched everything on all sides and flicked a forked tongue out at intervals. It could move in any direction, and seemed to be even more alert than the lion’s head at the front.

Trotting down the valley quite easily, the Chimaera continued to rumble and growl as it grew closer to the sheep. Meanwhile, those poor creatures had reached the end of the plain and run up against some jagged rocks that were impassable. They turned and began to bleat frantically. The Chimaera padded to within fifty paces of them, and then suddenly let out a horrendous roar that shook the valley and almost made Gabrielle cry out loud.

This proved to be too much for the sheep. They bolted towards the east, running straight towards the monster. With a snarl, the lion opened its mouth and belched out a stream of fire that came within two paces of the sheep and sent them running back towards the boulders. One of the animals, however, turned to its left and tried to get around the Chimaera the other way. Moving like lightning, the snake’s head flew down, snapping its powerful jaws and grabbing the poor animal by the throat. Picking the sheep up off the ground, the snake shook it once and then dropped it. Flailing around helplessly, the animal cried out for a few seconds, then suddenly became very still. From all appearances, it was dead.

"Poison," Xena whispered, more to herself than to her comrades.

Meanwhile, the other two sheep tried once again to run down the length of the valley, but were stopped by the flames from the awful lion’s head. This time, the monster reached out a great hairy paw and slapped one of the animals as if it had been a leaf blown by the wind. It rolled end over end, and when it stopped it was nothing but a bloody mass, torn to shreds by those great sharp claws. Blowing fire at the remaining sheep, the Chimaera got it to run back towards the rock wall.

"Why doesn’t it just roast that poor creature?" asked Telion.

"Because, like most animals, it likes its meat raw," muttered Xena, and Gabrielle felt a shiver run down her spine.

Within a few moments, the third sheep was also dead too with a blow from one of the claws, and the Chimaera was contentedly feeding on the remains of all three animals. Gabrielle and the others watched in horrified fascination, knowing that tomorrow, they might meet the same fate.

The sun was going down in the west when Polyeidus approached Gabrielle at her fire and offered her some roasted rabbit. She had been looking at Hadara’s card and she put it away quickly as he walked up.

"Thank you," she said as the old man set the plate on a nearby log. He hesitated a moment.

"Is something the matter, Polyeidus?"

"Forgive me, my dear. I’m sure it’s none of my business, but was that a fortune-teller’s card you had in your hand just now?"

Gabrielle thought about lying, but decided it was unnecessary. Besides, her whole life right now was full of lies. She hated to keep adding more to the list.

"Yes. Kind of silly, isn’t it?"

"Not at all, my child. I used to read those myself, you know."

"Really?" Gabrielle was genuinely interested.

"Do you mind if I see yours?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I don’t think that would be a good idea."

"You think I’m a foolish old man," he said smiling.

"No, it’s not that! It’s just that . . . well. . ." She looked cautiously around. Telion and Acheus were at the other fire, eating heartily, and Xena and Bellerophon had not returned from their supply trip to Xanthos yet.

"Okay," she said reluctantly and tossed the card at his feet.

"This looks like Hadara’s work," he said, and looked at her with raised brows.

"Who?" she stammered, hoping it sounded as though she had never heard the name in her life. "I got it in Athens. I decided to go to Mnemosyne soon afterward."

"Hmm, I find that interesting. Did the seer tell you that?"

"Well, no. I just got it from some of the images in the card."

"Well, to each his own, my dear, and I told you I had not done this in years. I guess that proves it."

"What does?"

"Well, I would have thought this indicated the Temple of the Fates."

Gabrielle leaned forward in excitement.

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, the three bridges are one strong indication, but the main thing is that those mountains are the exact image of a range located near their temple."

Gabrielle leaned back and shook her head in amazement. "Huh," was all that issued from her mouth. She had been to the temple, but had not made the connection with the mountains. Polyeidus picked up the card, glanced at it again, and then dropped it in front of her with a shrug.

"Like I said, my dear, it’s been a long time since I read any cards. I’m sure you did the best thing." He wandered back to the other campfire and began to talk with the two villagers. Gabrielle picked up the card and looked at it closely. She suddenly remembered the Priestess of Mnemosyne mentioning that only the Fates could erase her existence.

Perhaps that’s the key, she was thinking, when she heard the sound of loud voices coming down the road. It was Xena and Bellerophon, and they sounded as if they were arguing. When they reached the light of the other campfire, she was able to see that this was exactly what they were doing, and that they were also accompanied by a beautiful young woman.

That must be Philonoe, his love. She had picked up this information over the past two days.

"Sit down and eat!" said Xena, as she tied Argo to a nearby tree and removed her saddle.

"I don’t see what the big deal is," said the youth as he plopped down cross-legged on the ground and began to pull angrily at tufts of grass. Philonoe sat down next to him, but she said nothing.

"What is it?" asked Polyeidus anxiously.

"It seems our would-be hero hasn’t learned anything over the past few days." Xena stalked across the campsite and began to slap rabbit on a crude wooden plate.

"I told you that those arrows would do the job," snorted Bellerophon.

"Oh really." Xena’s voice was dripping with disgust, and Gabrielle knew from experience that the young man would be better off admitting that he was wrong. Stepping over towards Bellerophon’s things, Xena picked up a huge bow and an arrow that was in a nearby quiver. She readied the weapon, then turned to search for a target. Turning slowly in a half-circle, she suddenly fired the weapon straight towards Bellerophon. He yelped and grabbed his shoulder, while Philonoe let out a shocked scream. The arrow kept going, zinging its way into a tree about three paces away. The tip pierced the bark, but the arrow only stayed there a few seconds before dropping weakly to the ground below.

Bellerophon carefully lifted his hand and stared at the trickle of blood there.

"You’ve hurt him!" cried Philonoe. She tore off a strip of her dress and pressed it to the wound.

"Be glad I hurt him," Xena said. She threw the bow to the ground and grabbed her plate once more. After taking a few angry bites of meat, she looked at the young lovers and sighed.

"Bellerophon," she said, and her voice was softer, "I was aiming for above your shoulder. Way above. And you see where it hit you. The balance on the back is all wrong. Even the best archer would have trouble with those arrows. And if you happen to hit your mark, you see what would happen." She indicated the arrow on the ground. "The points are blunt. They won’t pierce a bladder of water, much less a Chimaera’s hide."

"But I spent all my money on the bow," the young man groused.

"And it’s a fine bow." She finally smiled. "It’s excellent, but if you don’t have arrows to match, then the finest bow in the world won’t help you tomorrow."

The young man still didn’t look quite convinced.

"It’s like my scrolls." Gabrielle was standing just outside the circle of their fire. Everyone jerked their heads up in surprise. "I can have the finest parchment in the world, but if I have no quill, nothing’s going to get written. One’s no good without the other."

Xena smiled again. "That’s right. Remember the sword and the hilt?"

Bellerophon was quiet for a few more seconds. "Do you two always work together this well?" he finally asked. "It’s like you planned it." He grinned impishly at them, and Xena smiled at Gabrielle.

"Oh we did. We all have to work together to get anything through that hard head of yours."

He stood up. "What should I do, Xena? I know I’ve got to have those arrows for tomorrow." She nodded towards Acheus. "Who’s the best armoror in town?"

"Lemnos," he replied without hesitation.

"Bellerophon, get on Pegasus. Take Acheus with you. Go to this man and buy as many arrows as he’s got." She tossed him a sack of dinars. "Lemnos can wait just outside of town with the horse. Then get back here soon and we’ll go over our plans." The young man nodded amiably and headed off with Acheus.

Gabrielle walked back towards her fire.

"Hey storyteller!" It was Xena.

Gabrielle turned.

"Thanks!" Even from here, she could see the flash of Xena’s white teeth.

She nodded and sat down, feeling hungry for the first time in a long while. It’d been ages since she’d had rabbit.

Later that evening, Xena went over her plan to kill the Chimaera. It was very simple. They were to use more sheep as bait to draw the creature into a ravine she had found that afternoon. Telion was to stand above on the rock face and taunt the creature with a long lance she had purchased. On the end of the lance was a lump of lead that Xena had had forged at the blacksmith’s in Xanthos.

"What’s that supposed to do?" asked Telion.

"I’m hoping that the heat of the Chimaera’s flame will slowly melt the lead. Enough of that stuff drips down its throat, and it might stop belching so much of that fire."

After some of this, Bellerophon and Pegasus were to start an air attack, with the young man firing as many arrows into the creature as he could.

"Aim mostly for that goat body," Xena had told him. "It’s got to have a heart in there somewhere. Pierce that, and we’re home free."

"What about that snake?" This came from Philonoe, who had evidently heard about the creature from Bellerophon. "It could knock Bellerophon and Pegasus out of the sky."

"They’re not going to come low enough for that. That’s why we got Pegasus. You shoot from way above. You got that straight?" she said, eyeing the boy.

"Yeah, yeah," he nodded.

"I’ll take care of the snake’s head," continued Xena. If we can get the Chimaera incapacitated and barely moving, then the storyteller will finish it off. Can you do that?"

Gabrielle nodded. "I could come out right away, if you want me to. I mean, I don’t think it can kill me."

"But you don’t know that for sure." Xena shook her head. "No, we’re not taking any chances with anyone. This might take all day, but it’s much safer. Everyone will be out of reach, and if that thing tries to run back down the ravine, I’ve got a nice rock slide ready for Polyeidus and Acheus to set off with one touch of a staff."

The old man grinned at the villager nervously, not sure whether he was excited or terrified to be a part of all this.

"Now, we had better get some rest. We’ve got a long day tomorrow."

Everyone headed to their blankets and settled in to sleep, but the tension in the air was palpable. Gabrielle wondered if they all felt the same way she did. After a few moments, Bellerophon called across to her.

"Hey, storyteller, will you tell us a tale?"

She sat up and thought for a moment. "Sure. Once, in the . . . "

"Nothing about me," Xena yelled into the night.

"Oh, all right," she muttered back. Going to make this difficult, isn’t she? I didn’t realize how hard it is to tell a story that doesn’t include Xena now. She was so quiet that the people around the other campfire decided that perhaps she had changed her mind, but suddenly they heard her soft voice floating across the warm night air.

"Once, a long time ago, a wise and noble king found that his kingdom was being terrorized by an evil giant. He decided that they would have to find a champion to defeat the monster, so he dressed in peasant’s clothing, took his most trusted servant, and headed out into his kingdom to find a brave warrior.

"Listening to people along the way, they soon found themselves at a beautiful palace, the home of a fearless fighter. Upon meeting the man, who was dark and muscular, they told him of their plight.

"‘I will fight this giant,’ he replied. ‘I am sure that the people of this kingdom will be so grateful that they will shower me with gifts. That is how I have been able to provide my family with such a fine place to live and so many things. They want for nothing.’

"The king explained that the people of the country were poor, but the warrior paid no attention.

"‘They will give me anything I want when I slay this awesome monster.’

"As they went to sleep in the barn that night, the servant thought to himself, ‘Surely my master will hire this champion no matter what the cost. He is strong and brave.’ But the king awakened him early the next morning and they quietly left.

"The next giant killer they visited lived in a mighty fortress, able to withstand the most dangerous attack. This man was even darker and bigger than the last, and was dressed in heavy armor.

"‘I have slain many monsters and many giants,’ he said. ‘Some of their heads even decorate my walls. But I have heard about this brute, and to kill him will make me more famous than ever. I will accept this challenge.’

"‘Here is the man to take up our cause,’ thought the servant, but the king thanked the warrior and left the fortress the next morning.

When they found the next champion, he was living in a tent. He had a wife and child, and many men living in tents around him. When he greeted the king, who looked no different than his servant, he bid them sit down and eat. Then he took them to a large tent and made them as comfortable as he could.

"‘You must rest first,’ he said. ‘You look weary. We will discuss your business in the morning.’

The servant awoke the next day fully expecting to leave again, but the king went to the warrior and explained their problem.

"‘I will fight this giant, and I will do my best to slay him, or die trying,’ said the man.

"The king revealed his identity and went home quite satisfied that he had found the right person.

"As they traveled home, the servant asked him, "Master, why did you choose the last man? He is neither the most fearsome or the most experienced in battle.’

"‘Because,’ replied the king, ‘the first two men fought entirely for themselves, for money and for fame, but the last man will fight for the people.’

"‘How can you be so sure?’ asked the servant.

"‘He saw our hunger and our fatigue when he met us. He fed us and made us rest, knowing nothing about who we were or what we wanted. True heroes care for others first--not themselves.’

"And so," Gabrielle concluded, "You can be assured of success tomorrow because you all fight for the good of Lycia and her people, and not for yourselves. You are true heroes."

It was quiet for several moments, and then Bellerophon called out, "Thank you, Bard."

Not another word was said, and everyone, including Gabrielle, settled onto their blankets to try and sleep.

But the young woman found that she couldn’t sleep. As she thought more and more about the story, which she hadn’t told in years, she became very disturbed.

"Is this about you or about Xena, Gabrielle?" The priestess’s words were floating through her head, as well as some of her own. "You want to be the hero, to overshadow Xena."

"I’ll have a great story to tell." A story with me in it. Gabrielle rolled over and sighed. Suddenly she jumped at the sight of a figure standing next to her.

"That was a fine story you told." It was Xena’s voice.

Gabrielle bolted upright.

"It was exactly what they needed to hear."

"Thanks," Gabrielle muttered, then sighed again.

"Is something bothering you?"

How does she always know? And she doesn’t even know me now, for Zeus’s sake. She decided to be truthful, for once.

"Xena," she said, lowering her voice, "I’m not sure if I should go with you tomorrow." The warrior princess sat down on a log not far away.

"Are you afraid?" she finally asked.

"A little," came the reply. " But that’s not it. It’s just that, well, telling that story reminded me. . ." She trailed off. "Well, you see . . ." She stopped again. The wind whispered gently in the trees high above. "Xena," she finally said softly, "I didn’t come on this journey with the right motives. I’m not like the last champion in the story. Besides," she added as casually as she could, "Polyeidus seems to think the three Fates might be able to help me with my condition."

Xena stirred the dirt with one booted foot.

"Look," she finally stated, "Whether you go with us or not tomorrow is your decision. But it’s a decision you make in the morning. What you do when you see the Chimaera will be a choice you make right then, too. One thing at a time. Do you understand?"

Gabrielle nodded her head up and down vigorously. "Yes." It was quiet for a moment, and then she began to shake her head from side to side. "Well, no, not really."

"You made a decision two days ago to come with us. Maybe it was based on good reasons, maybe not. I don’t know. All I know is that tomorrow we go to face something pretty scary and we don’t know what may happen. If you end up fighting this thing with us, you’ll have had to overcome a lot of fears and insecurities to do it.

" I had a person tell me once that it didn’t matter how you started a race, but how you finished. My race in life didn’t start very well. I’ve hurt a lot of people along the way. But maybe I can finish up doing an okay job. Your race isn’t over yet either. You started one way in Mnemosyne; but you can finish any way you want." She stood up. "Now try to get some rest, okay?"

As she walked back towards her blanket, Gabrielle spoke. "Xena?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks a lot."

"No problem."

Xena lay down on her blanket and stared at the night sky. She had no idea where any of that had come from, and she certainly had no idea how she knew that the bard was troubled. It was very odd, these feelings of connection she kept feeling to that storyteller.

"Xena." It was Polyeidus, his voice a barely audible whisper above the breeze.

"What is it?’

"She has a strange affect on you, my friend."

Was the old man reading minds now?

"What do you mean?"

"I don’t know exactly. I’m just a silly old man. Never mind what I say. Good night."

"Good night."

It was quiet for several minutes, when suddenly the old servant spoke again.

"Balance. You two seem to balance each other."

Temperance. The word was floating in Xena’s mind as she finally drifted off to sleep.