Dreams and Night-maras

A chill in the air
Ghosts and Goblins everywhere
A shiver of fear
Means that Halloween’s here
Herc and Iolaus on the run
With some creepy good fun
So come along for the ride
Quiet Wolf will provide
This year without fail
Her annual Halloween tale
You get two heroes plus
With a ”Supernatural” bonus
So let’s make some noise
For ancient Winchester boys
My muse was obeyed
No profit was made
No ownership to bear
No spoilers to declare
So let’s get on with the show
Comments are appreciated, you know
I hope you like it all right
And I wish you all only sweet dreams tonight....

Part One

It was a beautiful day. They were on their way to the harvest festival in Kavala. And the road seemed to be filled with an unusually high proportion of lovely young maidens. Any one of those things was normally enough to put Iolaus in a good mood. The combination of the three should have had him literally dancing alongside his partner, torturing all within earshot with his enthusiastic warbling. So naturally Hercules found it odd that his friend was somewhat subdued, walking beside him purposefully but seemingly lost in thought. The demigod couldn’t help wondering what could be distracting the hunter, but he assumed Iolaus would tell him what was bothering him when he was ready and he let it go. At least until they passed a trio of giggling, blushing girls. The winsome threesome only managed to elicit a small smile and courteous nod from his partner, and at that point Hercules could stand it no longer.

”Hey,” he said, giving his friend a little nudge. ”What’s wrong?”

”Huh?” Iolaus looked up at his taller partner. ”Nothing. Why?”

”Because your one track mind for once isn’t focused on girls, games, or food,” Hercules teased him.

”I guess I was just thinking.”

”Must be serious if it could tear your attention away from that.” The demigod gave a nod over his shoulder at the retreating trio of young ladies.

Iolaus glanced over his shoulder at the girls, then faced forward and shrugged.

”Not really. I was just thinking about the festival and I can’t help feeling like there’s going to be trouble in Kavala.”

”Why would you think that?” Hercules asked. ”It’s been quiet for weeks.”

”Yeah, that’s my point,” Iolaus explained. ”It’s been TOO quiet. Which usually means there’s something big brewing.”

”You’re being paranoid,” the demigod told him, slinging a companionable arm around his shoulders. ”But fortunately I know a cure for that.”

”Girls, games, and food?” the hunter supplied with a grin.

”For a start.”

”Then what are we waiting for?” Iolaus demanded, shoving the heavy arm off his shoulders. ”Come on, Herc, pick up the pace.”

The demigod shook his head but obligingly quickened his step to keep up with his partner’s sudden burst of renewed enthusiasm.

Hercules leaned back against the counter as he sipped at his ale and surveyed the crowded tavern. They had reached Kavala a day early and had predictably pitched in, helping to ready the town for the imminent celebration. But the festival had begun and the two seasoned warriors were free to enjoy themselves. The demigod didn’t really throw himself into the party like his more spirited partner did, but he enjoyed himself in his own reserved way and inside he was content. He had already run into several people that he knew, and it was refreshing for him to be able to relax and observe people in happier times. So much of his life was spent helping those in misery, it was nice now and then to be reminded that human suffering wasn’t all that existed.

A familiar face pushed its way through the crowd and Hercules spent a few minutes in pleasant conversation with the former-soldier-turned-farmer from a nearby town. Then he finished his drink and left the tavern, wandering outside into the cool fall air. It was late and most of the booths and food stands had closed, but the party was still going strong in the center of town where a group of musicians were playing a lively tune. For the demigod and his height advantage, it wasn’t hard for him to see over the crowd of spectators and spot his partner in the thick of things, dancing with the pretty girl who was lucky enough to have captured his fancy for the evening. And Hercules couldn’t help but smile slightly, glad to see that his friend had relaxed and was thoroughly enjoying himself. For if anyone deserved to have a little happiness, it was Iolaus.

He watched for a few minutes and came to the conclusion that his partner wouldn’t be ready to go anytime soon, so he turned and starting heading for the inn alone. Normally a room was a luxury that the two unpaid heroes could not afford, but Iolaus had participated in a few of the games that afternoon and had come away with a pouch filled with dinars. Hercules seldom competed as he didn’t think it was fair to match his divine strength with mortals, but he never needed to when Iolaus was with him as the hunter’s skills were largely unmatched. Technically the money was Iolaus’, but they had long been subscribing to the ”what’s mine is yours” philosophy and they both mutually decided to splurge on a room at the inn. A few years ago they would have saved the precious dinars and just camped in the woods, but even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud to each other, they both knew they weren’t getting any younger and the ground sure wasn’t getting any softer. Especially after a long day of competitions, ales, delicacies, and varying female delights.

Hercules was lost in thought, wondering if his incorrigible partner would even make it back to their room or if he would be sharing accommodations with his new lady friend, when raised voices broke him from his reverie. Upon investigation, he found a rather inebriated man outside of the inn harassing a woman who obviously was not enjoying his attentions. Hercules tried to intervene in a non-violent way, but the sot recognized him and was apparently feeling ten feet tall and demigod-proof and insisted on a fight. Not able to bring himself to hit a guy who was so drunk he could barely stand, Hercules just gave him a shove into a nearby water trough, leaving the man floundering as he turned to his damsel in distress.

”Thank you,” she told him, sweeping a strand of dark hair back from her face.

”Oh, I didn’t really do anything,” the demigod told her modestly as he held the door to the inn open for her. ”I think a stiff breeze would have saved you from that guy.”

”All the same, it’s not every day a girl can say she was rescued by the mighty Hercules. Challenge or not.”

As they entered the brightly lit building, the demigod got his first real look at the woman and instantly he was mesmerized by her beauty. She was exotic looking, with gleaming black hair and dark eyes in a flawless face. Tall and willowy with long legs and ample curves. And dimples, which suddenly appeared as she smiled and cleared her throat gently.

”Oh, right,” Hercules stammered as he realized he was blatantly staring at her. ”I mean, don’t mention it.”

”My name is Neola,” she told him, laying a warm hand on his arm. ”Perhaps our paths will cross again.”

Then she was gone, disappearing up the stairs with a seductive swing to her hips. It was only after she was out of sight that Hercules realized he was staring. Again.

”I’m getting as bad as Iolaus,” he muttered under his breath as he shook his head and started for the door, thinking that maybe he needed to have one more ale back at the tavern before he called it a night.

Hercules loitered in the lobby of the inn, trying to appear casual but failing to hide the fact that he was waiting. He estimated he’d been there for the better part of an hour, more than long enough for Iolaus to grow restless and ditch him. But the demigod was content to remain behind, for he’d spent most of the night thinking about the beautiful woman he’d been fortunate enough to bump into and he wanted to see her again. Not willing to risk missing her in the festival crowds, he had risen early and staked out the inn, deciding to give the Fates a hand and insure that he bumped into her again, on purpose. And finally his patience was rewarded as she came gliding down the staircase in a cloud of intoxicating perfume. And as he caught sight of her, Hercules was spellbound once more and all the smooth lines he’d rehearsed to himself abandoned him as she approached.

”Well, hello,” Neola purred. ”It appears our paths have crossed again.”

Her tone indicated clearly that she was fully aware he had been waiting for her, and the demigod blushed slightly as he struggled to make something coherent come out of his mouth.

”Well, I thought maybe I could walk with you a little,” he blurted out. ”You know, just to make sure you don’t have any more trouble like last night.”

”I think I’ll be fine without your protection,” the woman told him, showing her dimples. ”But it can get lonely out there and I would enjoy your company.”

”Good,” Hercules grinned. He offered his arm and she accepted it, and the two of them strolled out of the inn into the bright sunshine.

They spent the day together, taking in the sights of the festival, sampling the wares, watching the games and the exhibitions, but mostly just talking and getting to know each other. Hercules felt himself becoming more enchanted by his new friend by the minute. Neola was seductive, but classy. Intelligent and witty, with a playful side. The very model of charm and grace. And undeniably gorgeous. Every time the demigod met her dark gaze he felt like he was drowning in her hypnotic eyes, and he made a mental note to try and keep her off Aphrodite’s radar, for Neola was enough to make the goddess of love’s jealousy flare into overdrive.

The duo had run into Iolaus periodically as they navigated the festival, and if the hunter was at all surprised to see his partner coupled with a beautiful woman, he managed to behave himself and keep his thoughts to himself as they were pulled off in different directions. But as darkness began to creep over the land, they met up again in the large tent in the center of the festivities to have dinner. As was their wont, the two partners joked and laughed through the meal, but Neola remained quiet, perched closely beside Hercules and eating little. When the band started she rose and tugged on the demigod’s hand, urging him to go with her. He tried to gently protest, but she wasn’t taking ”no” for an answer.

”Come on,” she cajoled, pouting prettily. ”You have such balance and skill as a fighter. I bet you’re a natural.”

”That’s what my dance teacher said.”

”Teacher!” The woman’s eyes shone with new determination. ”You’ve been trained? Oh, you’re not getting out of this now. Let’s go!”

”This isn’t really the place for the Twanky Twiddle...” Hercules tried to tell her, even as he gave in and let her pull him out onto the dance floor.

Iolaus watched in amusement for a few minutes, then realized he was sitting there watching when he should have been joining. He swung his gaze around the tent in search of a potential partner of his own, happening to lock eyes with a nearby maiden who giggled and blushed before looking away. Already assured of his answer, the hunter ran a hand quickly through his tousled curls and put on his most charming grin before getting up and approaching her.

The band played several long songs and by the time they stopped many of the weary dancers were ready for a break, Hercules included. He got his lady friend settled at a table and began threading his way through the thick crowd with the intent of securing beverages for the two of them. Neola watched him go, as if unwilling to take her eyes off him, focused to the point where she was visibly startled when Iolaus unexpectedly plunked down on the bench beside her.

”Sorry,” he chuckled. ”I usually announce myself more gracefully than that. Having a good time?”

”Yes,” she replied. ”Thank you.”

”I can’t believe you got Herc out there,” the hunter continued. ”He never dances. It’s great to see him enjoying himself.”

Neola gave a noncommital nod as her gaze wandered back over the crowd.

”Look,” Iolaus said, his tone growing serious, ”I feel like I have to ask you something. It’s probably none of my business, but Herc’s been hurt before and I don’t want to see that happen again...”

”Why, Iolaus,” she purred, fixing her dark eyes on the hunter, ”are you asking me to declare my intentions with your friend?”

”No,” he protested. ”Of course not. But... If you’re playing some angle here, it needs to stop now.”

”That’s rather suspicious of you. Are you always this paranoid?” she asked, her gaze wandering again.

”You kind of learn to be after multiple setups,” he said wryly. ”Neola, I’m not trying to offend you. But Herc and I, we always watch each other’s backs. I’m just looking out for him.”

”You have nothing to worry about,” she told him as she abruptly rose, having caught sight of the demigod pushing his way back through the throngs. She started moving toward him, then turned back to the hunter. ”I know how lucky I am to have found Hercules. And I’m going to make the most of our time here together. You can count on it.”

She began weaving through the mass of people, meeting up with the demigod and then leading him off, away from the crowds. Iolaus watched them go, absently rubbing his chin as he mulled things over. Was it his imagination, or was the woman who was so vivacious with his partner acting cold and aloof toward him? And even if she was, did that mean something was wrong? Hercules had accused him of being paranoid a few days ago, and now Neola had thrown the same word back at him. Maybe they were right. After all, there was nothing about the woman to indicate that she wasn’t who she claimed to be. No warning signs or red flags. Just a slight, vague, unsettled feeling in his gut, which he was inclined to ignore since it had been so long since Hercules had shown any romantic interest in someone. And Iolaus just couldn’t wreck his friend’s happiness on the basis of a little groundless paranoia. So he decided to just keep a close watch on the situation while letting it play out and hope that his fears were unfounded. For if anyone deserved a little happiness, it was Hercules.

Iolaus grinned as his battle partner came dragging into the tavern in the morning. He had managed to coax his dance partner into putting him up for the night, wanting to leave Hercules the room and its privacy, thinking that the big guy needed it more than he did. And by the look of the demigod, he had presumably put it to full use.

”Morning,” the hunter sang out cheerfully as his friend slid into the chair opposite him. ”Rough night?”

”No,” Hercules muttered, reaching across the table and helping himself to some of his partner’s breakfast. ”I slept like a log.”

”Slept?” Iolaus clarified, raising a knowing eyebrow at him.

”Yes, slept,” the demigod repeated. ”Get your mind out of the gutter.”

”Well, you went off last night with a beautiful woman and then come dragging in here looking like something Cerberus spit out. What am I supposed to believe?”

”You can believe me when I tell you that Neola and I had a very nice evening together, but we said good night and went our separate ways.”

”All right, all right,” Iolaus placated his friend, picking up on the annoyance in his tone. ”You were the honorable gentleman. I believe you.”

”Good.”

”So why do you look exhausted?”

”I don’t know,” the demigod answered truthfully. ”Too much wine, I guess.”

”Or too much dancing,” the hunter teased.

”Shut up about that,” Hercules warned in a mock threatening growl. Tired of snatching morsels, he reached over and grabbed his friend’s plate, sliding it across the table.

”Hey! Do you mind?” Insulted, Iolaus rescued his stolen meal. ”So where is Neola this morning?”

”She said she had a few things to take care of. She’ll catch up with us later.” Realizing that his partner had shared about all of his food that he was going to, Hercules excused himself to go to the counter and order his own breakfast. Once they had both eaten, they wandered out into the street to peruse the market and debate the various attributes of the merchandise for sale. Iolaus could see that his friend’s mind wasn’t really on the swords and sundries, and the hunter didn’t miss the way the demigod kept scanning the sea of faces, obviously searching for Neola. Any doubt that Hercules had it bad for the woman was completely erased as he finally caught sight of her. The lingering fatigue vanished and Iolaus smiled fondly as he watched his partner visibly light up. Whatever had ailed Hercules from the night before was gone, but it had apparently never affected Neola. By contrast, she was positively glowing and even more radiantly beautiful. She caught sight of the demigod about the same time and beamed brightly, but then suddenly her expression melted to one of surprise, then fear.

Immediately, Hercules started sprinting towards her, roughly shoving festival goers out of his way as Iolaus followed right on his heels. It wasn’t immediately obvious what was causing the girl distress, but as they pushed through the crowds the two warriors saw that a young man was restraining her.

”I’ve finally found you, witch,” he hissed as Neola cried out and reached toward her rapidly approaching savior. The stranger shoved her away and Hercules caught her as she fell, realizing with horror that the bright red stain of blood was soaking through her dress. He tried to staunch the wound but it was too wide and deep. Neola gazed up at him and tried to speak but could only cough weakly. Then her dark, hypnotic eyes dimmed and her lithe body went limp. Hercules held her for a few moments, trying to comprehend what had happened. Then he laid her still form down gently onto the ground and sprang up with a roar of rage. But Iolaus already had the murderer in his grasp and was wisely ushering him away from the irate demigod.

”What are you doing?” the young man demanded, squirming against the uncomfortable, and unbreakable, arm lock the hunter had him in. ”Where are you taking me?”

”I’m doing you a huge favor, pal, and saving your life,” Iolaus told him coldly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his partner wasn’t following with the light of revenge in his eyes.

”No, you don’t understand,” the stranger pleaded. ”I’m the one who was saving lives. You have to believe me!”

”Save it for the magistrate,” the hunter snapped.

”No, you have to let me go! I need to finish it!”

”Hey! I told you shut up!” Iolaus growled quietly, giving the guy in his grasp a firm shake. He didn’t get that way often, exhibiting a kind of cool, menacing threat. But when he did, people generally read the deadly seriousness behind it and tended to back down. The young man was no fool and wisely submitted without another word.

The hunter appreciated his compliance, but as he led the stranger down the street to the chambers of Kavala’s venerable magistrate, Iolaus was definitely starting to feel like there was a lot more going on than what initially met the eye. Maybe it was paranoia, but he had learned from long experience never to doubt his instincts. And right now, those instincts were telling him a little paranoia might not be a bad thing.

Part Two

Iolaus repressed a sigh as he glanced over the fire at his partner. Several weeks had passed since the tragedy in Kavala and they had moved on. Well, Iolaus had moved on at least. Hercules... was not acting like himself. He was quiet, listless, with no energy or enthusiasm for anything. It was if he were mourning, but he hadn’t known Neola long enough to truly grieve for her, not to this extent. Which could only mean that the demigod was brooding. Beating himself up for not being able to save the beautiful woman who had bewitched him at the festival. Iolaus sighed audibly this time and rubbed a hand tiredly over his forehead, unwilling to let his friend continue his mental torture of himself. Hercules had made it quite clear that he didn’t want to talk about Kavala, but the hunter felt that this had gone on long enough and he was committed to try and force the issue.

”Herc? You ok?”

”I’m fine, Iolaus. When are you going to stop asking me that?”

”When you stop lying to me,” the hunter replied, a note of challenge in his voice.

”Don’t.” The word was soft, but there was a hint of warning behind it.

”Oh, come on, Herc,” Iolaus blurted out in frustration. ”We both know what’s going on here and you can’t expect me to keep ignoring it. What happened to Neola was not your fault!”

”I know that!”

”But you don’t believe it, do you?” the hunter pressed.

”How can I?” Hercules lashed out, but his anger was not directed toward his partner. ”She was right there, Iolaus. Right there in front of me. If I had just been a second faster or if I had seen her a second sooner, then Neola would still be alive.”

”Herc, you couldn’t save her,” Iolaus stressed. ”It wasn’t that you failed to save her. You physically COULD NOT save her. Nobody could have. What happened in Kavala was horrible, but you need to realize that there’s nothing you could have done to change it and you need to start letting it go now.”

”I know, you’re right,” the demigod muttered, sagging a little as the fight left him. ”But it’s not that easy. I’ve been dreaming about Neola, Iolaus. Every night. And I know it’s crazy. I barely even knew her. I can’t explain it but she had an impact on me. Still does, I guess.”

”Maybe it’s not so crazy,” the hunter suggested gently. ”Deianeira and Serena both died right in front of you, just like Neola. I’m no philosopher or anything, but losing Neola like that had to stir up some memories. Maybe what you’re feeling is some kind of combined loss for all of them.”

”You know, that actually makes sense.” Hercules’ expression grew thoughtful as he considered his friend’s theory. It was conceivable that he had been projecting his grief for the lost loves he hadn’t been able to save onto Neola and mourning not only her, but his former wives as well. He liked that idea a lot more than the theory that he was obsessing himself into madness. ”You might be onto something, Iolaus.”

”Just give it some more time,” the hunter advised. ”It’s ok to grieve, Herc. Just make sure you aren’t taking the blame in the process. And you know if you want to talk, I’m here.”

”I know,” the demigod replied gratefully as he stretched his tall frame out along the ground, pillowing his head on his arm and stifling a yawn. ”So when we hit the fork in the road tomorrow, do you want to head east or west?”

They spent a few minutes debating and finalizing their travel plans before biding each other good night and turning in. Hercules fell asleep quickly, but Iolaus remained awake, staring up at the endless sea of stars and worrying about his friend. Most people would think him nuts to worry about the mighty Hercules, but the hunter knew all too well that the demigod was not invulnerable. And Iolaus alone had the bittersweet task of protecting his partner from harm, both from outside threats as well as protecting Hercules from himself.

And now he seemed to need protection. From what, Iolaus wasn’t quite sure. He only knew that something was wrong. Something beyond Hercules’ self inflicted guilt trip or repressed grief over his wives’ untimely deaths. And it wasn’t paranoia. His hunter’s instinct was warning him. Something was out there. Something dark and malevolent. Something dangerous. Something that would destroy Hercules, unless he could find a way to stop it. Whatever ”it” was.

A slight noise caught his attention. Barely audible, but it sounded like a faint moan. Iolaus glanced across the fire at his sleeping friend and his heart stopped as he saw a shapeless black mass covering the demigod. The hunter looked away long enough to seek out and grab the sword lying next to him, then he sprang up, pulling his blade from it’s sheath. But he halted his attack in confusion, seeing no trace of anything and no sign that his partner had been harmed.

Except... Hercules slept on. The noise of a blade being drawn should have been enough to rouse the seasoned warrior. Iolaus carefully scanned the perimeter of the camp, as far as he could see in the dark. But everything was quiet, the woods around them peaceful, so he sheathed his sword and laid it carefully down next to his bedroll. Kneeling beside his partner, he rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. Again, more than enough to alert him under normal circumstances, but the demigod remained unresponsive. Becoming alarmed, Iolaus began to shake his friend, whispering his name with an increasing level of panic. Until finally, after several minutes, Hercules’ eyelids began to flutter and he woke, although he was groggy and unfocused. But ultimately he seemed ok so the hunter urged his friend to go back to sleep, which he did almost immediately.

Iolaus, on the other hand, had no intentions of sleeping. He returned to his bedroll but remained vigilant, spending the long night watching over his partner, his sword always at the ready in arm’s reach.

”No! No way! Forget it, Iolaus!”

”Herc, just hear me out,” the hunter pleaded.

”I heard you,” the demigod snapped. ”I heard you say you want to go back and talk to Neola’s killer. Now you hear me when I tell you he’s got nothing to say that I want to hear.”

”Hercules, there is something going on here,” Iolaus argued, losing his patience. ”Something to do with Neola. And whether you like it or not, that guy seems to know what it is. All I’m saying is that we should go back and listen to what he was trying to tell us in the first place.”

”He murdered her, Iolaus,” Hercules reminded him hotly. ”Does the reason really matter?”

”It does if she deserved it.” The hunter’s blue eyes widened in shock as the demigod took a step toward him, his face twisted in anger and his fists clenched. But then Hercules got a hold of himself and turned away, trembling slightly.

”I’m sorry, Iolaus,” he said, his voice tight.

”I’m sorry, too,” the hunter offered. ”I shouldn’t have said that. But I still want to go back to Kavala. I just want to talk to the guy, Herc.”

”I can’t do it.”

”Well, will you at least go with me?” Iolaus asked hopefully. He was dead set on this quest, but was loathe to leave his friend alone with his back unguarded. ”You can wait outside while I talk to him if you want.” When the demigod didn’t answer and remained with his back toward his friend, the hunter took a step toward him and rested a hand on his arm. ”I’m worried about you, Hercules,” he murmured, concern and affection thickening his voice. ”I pulled the all nighter last night, but you’re the one looking worse for wear. You dreamed about her again, didn’t you?”

A slight nod confirmed his suspicion.

”I saw something last night,” Iolaus confessed. ”Some sort of... I don’t know what it was. A black shapeless thing. Attacking you. And stop giving me that look like you think I’m crazy.”

The demigod had been glancing over his shoulder in disbelief at his friend but quickly averted his gaze forward.

”Something’s not right, Herc,” the hunter continued. ”And I know that you feel it, too. So just come with me, all right? Indulge me that much? I just want to hear the guy out, and if he turns out to be just a homicidal lunatic, then I swear I’ll shut up about everything and never bring up the subject again.”

”Now that’s a proposition I can’t pass up,” the demigod said with a grin as he turned around to face his friend. ”Add a clause in there about never mentioning my dancing again and we have a deal.”

The two partners had set off for Kavala together, but it was the hunter alone who entered the town. Iolaus had assumed that Hercules had been dragging his feet throughout the journey because it was a trip he didn’t really want to take. But when the demigod came down with a fever while overnighting at the home of the old battle companion he had reconnected with at the festival, the hunter realized how weak and fatigued his friend really was. It concerned him greatly, for Hercules, thanks to his divine blood, just generally didn’t get the colds and flus and fevers that were a part of the mortal life. And it also made him even more determined to get to the bottom of the mysteries that Neola’s death had left behind. So it was decided that Iolaus would soldier on alone to Kavala and do what he had to do while Hercules waited for him at the farm of their former comrade in arms, whose wife seemed more than happy to dote on the ailing demigod who had once saved her husband’s life in battle.

Kavala was vastly different from the last time he had visited, Iolaus noted as he walked down the street in the center of town. It seemed like an entirely different place without the festival infusing life and color and atmosphere into it. Now it was just like any other ordinary town. Quiet and unassuming. Except this town housed the answers to his questions, and without delay the hunter headed straight for the chambers of the magistrate.

Thankfully, the killer was still residing in the town jail. He’d given his name as Damalis but had said little else. Iolaus could only hope he could persuade the young man to be a little more chatty as he was escorted to the jail and given access to the prisoner’s cell. Introductions were made by the magistrate and then he took his leave, allowing them to talk in peace. The hunter walked up to the bars and peered through the gloom, sizing up the felon who was reclining casually on the floor, his back propped up against the far wall. Damalis was similarly sizing up his visitor, and apparently finished first as he was first to speak.

”Well, I didn’t think I’d see you here again. Did you come back to gloat or do you want something?”

”I want to know why you did it,” Iolaus told him bluntly. ”The girl. Why did you kill her?”

”After all this time, why do you suddenly want to know now?”

”I’m the curious type. So just answer the question,” the hunter commanded impatiently.

”And if you like the answer I give you, what then?” Damalis got to his feet and approached the bars, although his was careful to remain out of arm’s reach. ”You put me in here. You could get me out.”

”Maybe.” Iolaus folded his arms across his chest and fixed an even gaze on the young man. ”But I’m not promising anything until I hear what you have to say. So start talking.”

”I’m not a murderer,” Damalis sighed, pushing the thick brown hair back from his forehead. ”And she wasn’t a girl.”

”What was she?”

”A monster.” The young man took another step toward him and spoke earnestly. ”Neola was a creature that drew her life from the lives of others. She fed on their energies and drained them of their lives in the process. There are a lot of her kind around, actually. Most of them do no harm, just taking in a little energy here and there from different sources. But Neola was twisted. She liked to drain all the energy from her victims, until eventually they grew so weak that they sickened and died. She attacked my brother and almost killed him before we realized what she was, and then once she knew we were onto her she disappeared. My brother was weakened so I left him behind and tracked her here. As soon as I saw her, she was so vibrant, you know? I knew she was feeding on someone else and I had to stop her. Before she could escape to kill again.”

”You said something about needing to finish it after she was already dead,” Iolaus recalled. ”What did you mean by that?”

”Finish the process to keep her from rising again,” Damalis explained. ”The only way to prevent that happening is to salt and burn her remains.” He paused, studying the thoughtful look on the hunter’s face. ”You believe me, don’t you?” he asked, sounding surprised.

”Let’s just say I’ve heard stranger things,” Iolaus said distractedly. ”Thanks for the info.”

”Hey, wait!”

”Hang in there,” the hunter called over his shoulder as he trotted toward the door. ”And I’ll see what I can do to help you.”

Iolaus returned to the magistrate, inquiring as to the fate of the young man. He was a little disturbed to hear that an execution had been planned, but that the boy’s brother had shown up in town and had been causing a lot of trouble, resulting in a temporary stay until the legalities could all be ironed out. Iolaus expressed his newfound uncertainties as to the guilt of Damalis and proposed that the execution be indefinitely postponed while he did some further investigation. And to his relief, the magistrate agreed. Which saved him a load of trouble, because his only other stalling technique would have been to sic Dirce on him and Iolaus simply did not have the time or the state of mind to deal with the crusading lawyer. She was attractive and sweet, but mentally exhausting. And the hunter didn’t have any mental energy to spare as he tried to figure out what to make of Damalisâ’ story.

The whole thing at a glance seemed pretty preposterous, but as Iolaus had told the young man, he’d been privy to much stranger things. And while it was hard for him to make the transition between the beautiful, seductive woman and a monstrous killer, Damalis’ description did seem to fit with what had been happening with Hercules. The hunter had looked into his eyes and had seen sincerity, not malice or madness. All the signs were telling him that this was a good kid who had acted to stop a bloodthirsty monster from hurting innocent people. And how was that any different from what he and Hercules did every day? It wasn’t, and Damalis deserved to be set free, providing his story was true. There was one way to prove it definitively but it was not something Iolaus was looking forward to doing. For it meant he had to dig up a grave and unearth a corpse.

For all their conversation, after Neola’s death Hercules had been somewhat surprised to realize she hadn’t told him much about herself. He didn’t know where she was from or if she had any family anywhere, and she had not shared those details with anyone else in town, either. With no other recourse they had been forced to bury her in town, hoping that if she had any loved ones they would know where to come looking for her when she failed to return home.

Iolaus had helped to dig the grave, never once imaging he would so soon be un-digging it. He glanced up at the darkening sky, cursing his infernal impatience that made him start his chore so late instead of waiting until the next day. What he was doing was unpleasant, to say the least. The impending night just added a whole new layer of creepy to the task. Quickening his pace, he lobbed shovelfuls of dirt over his shoulder in rapid succession, digging down deeper and deeper, not remembering the hole being that deep when they had laid her to rest. But he kept working until his shovel unearthed a tiny fragment of white, barely visible in the encroaching twilight. It was the linen shroud in which they had wrapped Neola’s body before they had placed her in the grave.

Carefully he uncovered more of the cloth, then set his shovel aside. Now all he had to do was salt the remains and burn them. If Neola had been innocent, a little disrespectful, maybe, but no harm done. If she was as Damalis had said, then she would be stopped and Hercules would be free.

Taking a deep breath, and holding it, Iolaus took up the precious salt that had not been an easy acquisition and began unfolding the linen. Then slowly he exhaled, picking up the heavy bolt of cloth and shaking it. There was nothing there and no sign that a body had ever been there. Neola’s remains were gone.

Part Three

”Hey!” Iolaus slapped the bars of the cell loudly, startling the sleeping prisoner into wakefulness. ”What kind of game do you think youâ’re playing?”

”Wha? Game?” Damalis muttered groggily, sitting up and blinking owlishly in the dim light as he tried to focus on his angry visitor.

”I don’t know what your deal is, kid, but you picked the wrong guy to screw with.”

”Ok, first of all, don’t call me 'kid'” Damalis told him with a touch of irritation. ”And secondly, it would really help if you would tell me what in Hades you’re talking about.”

”I dug up Neola’s grave and there was nothing there,” Iolaus said in an accusatory tone. ”Her remains are gone.”

”Well, of course they are.” The young man flinched as the bars of his cell reverberated under the hunter’s fists.

”I swear by the gods if you don’t start telling me the truth about what’s going on....”

The threat was left unspoken but Damalis had the feeling that the bars keeping him locked up would be doubling as a shield to protect him from the hunter’s wrath.

”All right, calm down,” he quickly placated. ”Just give me a second.” The young man got to his feet and shook his head slightly, scrubbing his hands over his face to wipe away the vestiges of sleep that were still clinging to him. ”Neola was dangerous in life,” he began. ”But in death she’s been elevated to a whole new level of deadly. She’s become a mara.”

”And that would be?”

”A nightmare witch,” Damalis explained. ”In mortal form, she was only able to attack her victims and drain their energies through contact. After her death, she rose again as a much more powerful creature. She can attack people in their sleep when they are helpless. In their dreams, when they are powerless to fight her.”

”Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” Iolaus demanded in exasperation, thinking of all the digging he could have been spared if he’d heard that nugget of information earlier.

”You didn’t ask,” Damalis pointed out. ”You just went tearing out of here like your butt was on fire and...” The young man paused as a thought struck him. ”You aren’t here out of curiosity, are you? She’s attacking someone you know.”

”Yeah,” the hunter admitted. ”My best friend. So how do I stop her?”

”Well, as a mara she’ll have strength on her side. But there are ways to ward her off. By staying grounded and keeping your mind closed, which means no meditation or alcohol or drugs. Let’s see... Burning sage is a good deterrent. But most important, you need to get your friend a good protection amulet.”

”Where do I get that?”

”Wherever you got that one,” Damalis answered, nodding at the stone resting against Iolaus’ chest.

”This?” The hunter clasped his hand around the medallion his always wore and squeezed it gently. ”I got this from my father. But it doesn’t have any magical properties.”

”Believe what you want,” the younger man shrugged. ”Just don’t take it off.”

”Wait, back up,” Iolaus instructed. ”You said all this will ward her off?”

”Yeah. The charms work to block her power. So the attacks should stop.”

”But it wonâ’t stop her?”

”Unfortunately, no,” Damalis replied. ”But your friend will be safe.”

”No, he won’t,” Iolaus sighed, giving the medallion in his hand another squeeze before he dropped it to dangle from its leather cord against his chest. ”Because he won’t do it. Hercules would never save himself if it meant someone else would be hurt in his place.”

”Hercules?” the young man questioned with interest. ”He’s the one being attacked?”

”Unfortunately, yes,” the hunter said, mimicking but not mocking.

”That makes sense,” Damalis murmured, almost to himself. ”A mara would be drawn to him. Drawn to his divine blood. His strength would increase hers and it’s going to make her even harder to stop.”

”But there is a way to stop her, right?” Iolaus pressed. ”I mean, for good?” There had to be, because it was the only way to save Hercules. The hunter knew his friend all too well, and he knew Hercules would never settle for ”warding off” a monster if it meant she would just attack another innocent soul. Not even at the expense of his own life.

”There is a way,” the young man said slowly. ”But it’s not going to be easy.”

”It never is,” the hunter agreed wearily. ”What do I have to do?”

”You’re going to need help.”

”I appreciate the concern,” Iolaus told him wryly. ”But I think together Herc and I can handle Neola. After all, it’s what we do.”

”I’ve heard all the stories,” Damalis said, with equal wry. ”And I’m telling you, you’re going to need help with this one. Monsters of the gods are your area. Monsters of the Netherworld are mine. You need to find my brother and tell him you know where the mara is. He’ll help you kill her once and for all. After all, it’s what WE do.”

”All right,” Iolaus conceded reluctantly. He definitely didn’t share Damalis’ belief that he and Herc were out of their league on this one, but it was looking like he didn’t have a choice in the matter. So in the interest of time he was forced to agree. ”Where do I find him?”

”Probably in the tavern. His name is Andries. And if he gives you any attitude, just tell him I said you were cool.”

The hunter didnâ’t miss the small smile Damalis tried to hide and he eyed the young man warily.

”Now why do I get the feeling I’m being thrown to the wolves?”

”Good luck, Iolaus,” Damalis offered, reaching through the bars of his cell to exchange a warrior’s shake.

”With the mara, or your brother?”

”Maybe both,” the young man grinned.

”Andries?”

”Who’s asking?”

The hunter was a little taken aback by the amount of suspicion directed at him. 'And they call me paranoid,’ he thought to himself.

”I’m Iolaus. I’m here because...”

”Oh, I know who you are.” The man rose from his seat at the table and faced the hunter. He appeared to be older than Damalis, though shorter. Handsome, even though his features were twisted into a scowl, and he came off as much more intense than his brother. And if looks could kill, a mara would have been the least of the hunter’s problems. ”Give me one reason why I shouldn’t put you through that wall over there?”

"Damalis said I was cool?” Iolaus offered hopefully.

”Yeah? Well a man’s judgement tends to get screwed up when he’s locked in a jail cell.”

”Look, I don’t have time for this,” the hunter said impatiently, needing to diffuse the situation before they started exchanging blows. ”I just came from the magistrate and he won’t take my word for it that Damalis is innocent without proof. The only thing that’s going to save your brother now is Hercules coming to his defense, but he can’t do that until we kill the mara that’s attacking him. I don’t like this any better than you do, but you know how to deal with this thing so we’re just going to have to work together. And you’re going to have to trust me if you want to keep your brother from being executed.”

The stone face never flinched, but Iolaus could see the fear wavering in the other man’s eyes as he spoke those last few words. Hostility was still radiating from him, but Andries reigned it in for his brother’s sake.

”Fine. I’ll help you kill the mara. But if you double cross me and my brother, then you’re next, pal. Get it?”

”Got it,” the hunter assured him in an amused tone. ”Hercules is back in a town a few miles from here. Given the late hour, I suppose we should wait until morning to head out.”

”Meet me back here at first light,” Andries commanded. He turned back to his table and his drink, but glanced back over his shoulder at Iolaus. ”I just hope you can keep up with my Impala.”

Iolaus had not been looking forward to the morning’s journey, and all of his reservations seemed to be coming to fruition. Andries had shown up with Impala, a massive stallion with a spirited nature who gleamed glossy black in the sun. And the man seemed to delight in keeping the horse at a pace that was just fast enough to force Iolaus to exert himself as he trotted along beside them. He was quickly growing to dislike his traveling companion, finding him cocky and egotistical and overly self assured. Although he couldn’t be sure if it was Andries’ personality that irked him, or the fact that the young man reminded the hunter so much of himself at that age. Well, at least there was hope that maturity and experience would take a little wind out of his sails. In the meantime, the attitude was Iolaus’ burden to bear. Worth it, if it would help him to save Hercules.

Trying to ease some of the tension and establish some kind of rapport, Iolaus attempted to make small talk on the trip. Andries was somewhat tight lipped about his family, but he confirmed that he and his brother traveled around, battling the other worldly creatures that confounded and plagued innocent people. Like Hercules and Iolaus, they didn’t do it for money or glory, but simply because somebody had to. Their father had taught them all about these creatures, things that most people didn’t even know existed until they began tormenting them. And to hear Andries tell it, he was unequaled in his skill and knowledge. The hunter hoped he was right, for Hercules’ sake.

As they neared the farm, Andries reigned in his stallion and swung down from the saddle to walk beside Iolaus.

”What are you going to tell Hercules?”

”What do you mean? I’m going to tell him the truth.”

”All right, but just break it to him gently, you know?”

”Yeah, I do know. I know how to talk to my best friend,” Iolaus informed him, insulted.

”Listen to me,” Andries insisted. ”I’m trying to tell you that if you tell Hercules Neola has become a horrible monster out to kill him, he might not take it so well.”

”You don’t even know him!”

”But I know myself,” the young man continued. ”And I know how powerful Neola’s spell can be. She sure had me hooked.” He glanced over at the hunter. ”What? You saw her, didn’t you? The woman was smoking hot! Those legs, those hips, those big...”

”All right,” Iolaus interrupted him. ”You’re right. She was gorgeous. But even so, Herc’s not going to...”

”Damalis didn’t think I’d freak out either,” Andries countered. ”He’s the one who discovered what she really was. She’d already drained me to the point where I was weak and sick, but I still didn’t want to believe him. Neola can be... very addicting.”

”I understand,” the hunter said. ”I’ll break it to him gently, but I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

”Well, if he takes a swing at you, just don’t take it personally, ok?”

”You hit Damalis?” Iolaus concluded. Andries didn’t answer verbally, but he looked away guiltily. The moment of sincerity and openness gave the hunter new respect for his annoying companion, as well as new respect for the seductive power of Neola. ”Ok. I’ll tread lightly and bear no grudge. Come on, we’re almost there.”

Hercules had been sitting outside of the farmhouse in the sun and saw them approaching, so he rose and came to greet them. He claimed to be feeling better, which Iolaus attributed to two days of rest but he knew it wouldn’t last as long as the mara continued her attacks. The hunter briefly introduced Andries, who quickly excused himself to go put up his horse in the barn in order to give the partners a chance to talk. Iolaus went over everything he had learned in Kavala and broke the awful truth to his friend. Hercules didn’t want to believe him at first, but the hunter kept at him and eventually he had to grudgingly accept the facts.

”I’m so sorry it turned out this way, Herc,” Iolaus told him sincerely.

”Yeah, me, too.” The demigod sighed heavily, staring down at the ground for long moments before looking up at his friend. ”So what do we do now?”

”Let’s go find out.”

They headed off to the barn and found Andries tending to his Impala, crooning softly to him as he brushed his gleaming mane.

”Herc’s on board,” Iolaus announced in answer to his questioning look. ”So what’s the plan?”

”Ok, here’s the deal. Maras are tricky creatures. Technically they are still earthbound, but they mostly reside in the spiritual plane. Between two worlds, you could say, and not really fully in either one. To kill Neola, we have to force her to manifest entirely in one or the other. She’ll be too powerful in the spirit world, so we have to get her here.”

”And how do we do that?” Hercules inquired.

”That part’s on you, big guy. When she comes to you in your dreams, you’re going to have to find a way to grab and hold onto her.”

”Then what?”

”Then we wake you up. If you’re hanging onto her in your dream, she’ll get yanked back here with you when you wake up. Then Iolaus and I take it from there.” Andries opened his saddlebag, revealing a veritable cornucopia of charms, herbs, salt, and weapons. He surveyed the contents briefly before selecting two metal stakes, tossing one to the hunter. ”Iron,” he explained. ”It should be enough to kill her in this plane. Then we salt and burn her remains and the bitch stays dead this time.”

”You’ve done this before, right?” Iolaus asked doubtfully.

”No, not exactly,” Andries confessed. ”But it should work. The hard part is going to be on Hercules. Do you think you can resist her long enough to bring her back here?”

”Of course he can,” the hunter spoke up, surprised to see his friend not looking so confident. ”Can’t you, Herc?”

”I don’t know, Iolaus,” the demigod murmured quietly, turning apologetic eyes to his partner. ”I can’t explain what she does to me. But when I dream about her it’s like she has me spellbound. Nothing else exists except her and I find myself getting lost in her eyes...”

”Ok, then there’s only one solution,” Iolaus concluded. ”I’m going to have to go in with you.”

”In where?” Hercules asked in confusion. ”In my dreams?”

”Where else?”

”And just how do you propose to do that?” Andries demanded skeptically.

”Morpheus,” the hunter said as if it were the most natural conclusion in the world. ”He’s made it happen before.”

”But what makes you think he’ll agree to do it again?” Hercules asked his partner.

”Aphrodite once told me that everyone owes you a favor,” Iolaus replied smugly. ”So get going and cash yours in with the god of dreams, because I have a score to settle with Neola.” He had warned her at the festival not to hurt his friend. And she was about to find out the hard way that she should have listened.

”Hello, Hercules.” Her voice was inviting. The hand caressing his bicep, so warm and soft. Hercules wanted desperately to yield to her, but he forced himself to stay strong. She was a monster, he reminded himself. An evil creature bent on destroying him. He had to resist her. But she pressed up against him, the scent of her perfume wafting up to tickle his nose. ”Look at me, my love.”

”No,” the demigod whispered, even as his arms moved on their own accord to encircle her.

”Look at me,” she commanded again.

Hercules tried, his whole body trembling with the effort. But his eyes darted once to her face and immediately he was captivated by her dark gaze. He knew he couldn’t trust her, but at that moment he was lost to her beauty. She felt too good in his arms, so warm and alive, and he became utterly lost in the hypnotic depths of her eyes.

”That’s my boy,” Neola purred contentedly as he submitted fully to her charms. She sighed blissfully and virtually began to glow with radiance as the demigod’s exceptionally strong, divinely enhanced, life force flowed into her. ”You make me feel invincible,” she whispered to her uncaring victim. ”I knew from the first moment I saw you that your energy would be like nothing I’d ever felt before. And from the first time we touched, I knew you were the one I’ve been searching for all my life. My power will be unmatched, thanks to you, Hercules. I will be sorry once you’re gone.”

”That makes two of us.”

The mara’s head reared back and she hissed her displeasure upon catching sight of Iolaus.

”How did you get here?”

”It’s a long story that you’ll never get to hear.”

Abruptly, Neola’s attitude shifted and she smiled at the hunter, showing her dimples. Pulling out of Hercules’ unresisting embrace, she sashayed toward Iolaus, batting her eyelashes.

”Now, Iolaus, there’s no need to be angry. I’m sure we can work something out.”

”No deals,” he told her firmly. ”And save your energy. Your tricks aren’t going to work on me.” He tapped the green stone resting against his chest which did seem to be shielding him, somehow, from the mara’s power.

In a flash Neola’s mood changed again and she kept coming toward the hunter, but with an aggressive bearing this time. Iolaus launched himself forward to meet her, hitting her low around the waist and tackling her to the ground. It was the last thing she’d expected and he had the element of surprise on his side, but as she began to struggle the hunter realized that her strength far outweighed his own. But he wasn’t trying to do anything more than hang on, so he wrapped his arms and legs around her and clung like an octopus as she did her best to dislodge him.

”Any time would be good, Andries,” he muttered through gritted teeth as he was pummeled with otherworldly strength and ferocity.

Iolaus opened his eyes to chaos. A sharp blow to the head caused him to lose his grip, and for a frightening moment he was completely disoriented and confused about the whirling shapes clashing above him. He closed his eyes again, taking in a few deep breaths before opening them and assessing the situation. It dawned on him that he was back in the feed storage room at the farm. They had decided it was the safest place to implement their plan, since the large building was empty and unused at the time and was far away enough from the farmhouse to hopefully protect the family that lived there. But if he was back on the farm, that meant that Andries had woken him up.

”Did it work?” the hunter asked as his companion grabbed his arm and hauled him up to his feet.

Andries nodded across the room, and Iolaus followed his gaze to see a shadowy figure lurking outside the lamplight. Neola turned, and the hunter gasped in shock. The formerly stunningly beautiful woman was gaunt and pale, her eyes glowing red and her hands thin and elongated and ending in sharp claws.

”What happened to her?” Iolaus whispered.

”What happens to all women when they’re denied the Andries love. She’s pining away with sorrow.” The hunter looked at him questioningly and the young man rolled his eyes and shoved an iron stake into his hand. ”It’s her true form. Now quit gawking and get her!”

Together, they attacked, and together, they were quickly repelled.

”I thought you said she’d be weaker in this world!” Iolaus panted.

”Yeah, well, sometimes I make crap up,” Andries confessed.

”Good to know,” the hunter said sarcastically. ”On three?”

”Three!”

They attacked again, with more caution this time, but the mara sent them both flying across the room.

”You little mortals and your self-righteous prides,” Neola hissed. ”I’ll crush you both like insects.”

”Hey, who are you calling 'little’?!” The words were spoken simultaneously, with equal indignation, by both men. They glanced at each other, shrugged, and then got up to rush her a third time. They were sent back again, but not before Iolaus managed to gouge his stake across her arm.

”She’s bleeding,” the hunter declared.

”It has to be a fatal blow,” Andries reminded him. ”But we’ve got her on the run. I’ll keep her occupied. You see if you can wake up Sleeping Beauty over there. We could use some divine intervention right about now.”

Iolaus nodded and dashed off to the corner where Hercules was still entranced in sleep. As he struggled to rouse his partner, Andries approached Neola. The mara was shaken by the sight of her own blood and had tried to flee, but her steps faltered at the door.

”Sorry, Sweetheart,” Andries told her. ”You’re going to have to hang with us for a while longer.”

Neola glared down at the salt line blocking the doorway. She couldn’t cross it and was effectively trapped, which fueled her anger and she shrieked in rage.

”Good to know I can still make you squeal like that,” the young man said, before his eyes grew cold and a deadly seriousness overtook him. He had been captivated by her beauty once, and the clever witch had tricked him into giving her the protection amulet he always wore, as a token of his affection. She had fed on him and almost killed him, but now with a new charm around his neck blocking her spells he wasn’t about to fall to her a second time. ”Come on, Baby. Let’s dance.”

She attacked him and Andries fought her off admirably, given her enhanced strength. But he was getting the worst of it and the battle began to take its toll on the young man who had still not fully recovered from her prior attacks. She managed to knock the stake out of his hand and it skittered noisily across the floor. Andries went after it, but Neola got there first. Undaunted, he leapt onto her back, but she flipped him over her head to crash, winded, onto the ground. The mara stood over him, gloating as she raised the stake high in preparation of a killing blow. But then her wrist was seized in a crushing grip, causing her to drop the weapon. She struggled madly, but Hercules was equal to her in strength and his grip was unrelenting. Iolaus quickly secured her other arm, but was having a much harder time keeping her restrained.

”What are you waiting for?” he shouted at the dazed young man as Neola bandied him about, trying to shake him loose.

Andries spurred into action, grabbing up the stake and leaping to his feet.

”Suck on this and burn in Hades,” he snarled as he plunged the stake straight into her heart. She didn’t fall as a human would have, but immediately collapsed bonelessly in a highly unnatural way.

”Is she dead?” Iolaus asked hopefully, prodding the limp form with the toe of his boot.

”Yeah,” Andries confirmed jubilantly. ”How awesome are we? Come on, let’s finish her off for good.”

Hercules staggered off to the side, completely exhausted and willing to let his friends worry about taking care of Neola’s remains to prevent her from ever rising again. Iolaus and Andries dragged the body outside to the pyre they had built earlier, covered her with salt, and set fire to the wood. And with that, the evil of the mara was destroyed forever.

Andries had his doubts, but Iolaus was quick to reassure him. And just as he promised, Hercules soon came walking out of the Kavala jail with Damalis beside him, having lobbied and won the young man’s freedom.

”Hey, jerk!” the younger brother greeted the older one happily.

”Good to see you, bitch,” Andries responded. But despite their somewhat derogatory vocal interactions, Iolaus did not miss the way the brothers looked at each other, or how Andries’ casual hand on Damalis’ shoulder was squeezing just a bit too tightly, conveying his relief and affection. ”Well, it’s been real,” Andries told them, extending a hand.

”More like unreal,” the hunter countered, but he gladly excepted the shake, deciding that Andries wasn’t such a bad guy after all.

”Thanks, Iolaus.” Damalis likewise reached out a hand.

”And if you two crazy kids ever need help with a demon or a skinwalker, you know who to call,” Andries added.

”Yeah, we’ll keep that in mind,” Hercules said dryly as he exchanged shakes with the brothers. ”Be safe.”

”Nah, I’d rather be reckless. Reckless kills,” Andries tossed over his shoulder as he swung up onto Impala.

”Why do I always have to sit in the back?” Damalis complained.

”Because it’s my horse, Dami,” the older brother reminded him impatiently. ”So just shut your cake hole and get up here.”

Damalis gave a final wave to the two heroes and swung up onto the stallion’s broad back. Egged on by Andries, the mount reared up on it’s hind legs with a deafening whinny and then began galloping down the road leading out of Kavala.

”So,” Iolaus said as the two partners looked at each other. ”What now?”

”I don’t know,” Hercules answered him. ”Something easy. Like fishing. Or stopping a war. Or maybe even a hydra.”

”Yeah, something normal,” the hunter agreed. ”And something without women.”

”Right.”

”Right.”

”Although,” Hercules began thoughtfully, ”there is that wine festival in Tricala. That should be beginning any day now.”

”Isn’t that the one where fifty virgins dress up in nothing but grape leaves and dance around to celebrate the new harvest?”

”That’s the one.”

The two old friends looked at each other for long moments.

”Fishing?” Iolaus proposed.

”Fishing it is,” Hercules declared, looping an arm around his partner as they began to head out of town. Away from Tricala.

Finis

Disclaimer: No maras were harmed during the writing of this story, although 50 virgins were exposed when a mischievous trickster caused their grape leaves to shrivel. He was apprehended by two spirit hunters, one of whom made sure Tricala was down a virgin or two before he left. In an unrelated story, several fish were caught and eaten.

Author’s Note: Damalis and Andries are based on the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester from ”Supernatural”. As always, I do not own them and I’m just borrowing them for a little time traveling non-profit fun.

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