Somewhere Out There

Author's Note: I do not own nor claim rights to Herc, Iolaus, Jason or the Olympians. I'm just borrowing them and will be happy to return them, providing they can find their way out of The Forest. Comments are always welcome.

Iolaus glanced up at the sky, checking on the status of the sun. He'd hoped to make the next village by nightfall, but dusk was not far off and he didn't know how much further he'd have to travel. His steps faltered while he debated the pros and cons of stopping where he was and making camp, for he wouldn't be able to navigate the unfamiliar road in the dark. Finally he decided there was enough daylight left for him to carry on a bit further, and he resumed walking, at a faster pace than before.

"Some shortcut," he murmured to himself with a rueful shake of the head. Trying to reclaim some lost time, the hunter had opted to cut across the mountains on his way to meet Hercules and Jason. Although he'd never been that way before, he figured he'd just have to follow the road and he'd be fine. He didn't anticipate the road being so long and winding, not to mention treacherous in many areas. It was not well traveled, or well populated, and his journey had turned out to be a long, lonely one as he maneuvered the wilderness, spending a few cold nights huddled next to the fire. Not wanting to endure another uncomfortable night, he quickened his pace even more in the hopes he'd be able to make it to the next village before the darkness halted his progress. Then, by his estimate, he'd be able to make it out of the mountains the following day, which would only make him a day late meeting his friends. If nothing else went wrong, he thought with a sigh, realizing it was probably wishful thinking. Something always seemed to go wrong.

But as the sun moved farther to the west, the hunter began seeing settlements here and there, which cheered him for it meant that the village could not be far off. His fast walk became a trot, and before long he found himself entering Allegenae. Iolaus grinned broadly, taking in the banners and the aroma of food wafting in the cool evening air, the sounds of music drawing him forward and the promise of a festival making the hardships of the trip all worthwhile. Entering the center of town, the hunter found the source of the festivities. It was a scene with which he was well familiar. A village of poor people, barely eking out their living, but pulling out all the stops they could to create a celebration. Completion of the harvest, maybe, or a feast for the new wine. The reason was of little importance to the fun loving hunter, although he did quickly check for any signs that they were paying homage to one of the gods. Finding none, Iolaus figured he was safe.

He strolled nonchalantly through the square, procuring a mug of ale for himself as he surveyed the buffet of food. Well aware he was garnering more than a few suspicious looks, the hunter ignored them, expecting that as an outsider the villagers would be wary of him. He was used to it, and he knew from experience they'd figure out he was harmless before too long and leave him in peace. Iolaus handed over a few dinars to a stone faced man and began helping himself to the feast. With a loaded plate, he looked around for somewhere to sit, but a sudden light caught his eye. Torches, lit against the encroaching dusk, drew his attention to a raised platform at the head of the square. A lovely young girl sat upon it, draped in a shimmering gown and surrounded by mounds of flowers. The harvest queen, maybe, he speculated, spying an empty bench and making a beeline for it. Although he thought it strange that she didn't look too happy with her honor, the adorned girl was quickly forgotten as he dove into his meal.

Once he'd eaten and sated his hunger, Iolaus again wandered around the square. He stopped to listen to the small band of musicians for awhile, but other than that, there wasn't much more to see. So he found his attention back on the girl on the dais, watching her a little more closely this time. People kept coming forward and speaking to her, bringing her more flowers, small gifts, or food and drink. The hunter couldn't hear what they were saying, but he assumed they were offering some sort of congratulations. But through it all, she remained rigid and silent, staring straight ahead and ignoring the activity around her. Iolaus also noticed an older couple stationed next to the platform. They were being approached and offered gifts as well, and while they conversed with the villagers and accepted what was offered them, they didn't look any happier than the young woman. The hunter’s impeccable instinct began buzzing, warning him that something odd was going on. He became sure of that when he realized that the glances of suspicion toward him weren't dying down, either, but were instead growing in intensity and hostility. Whatever was happening, it was something that they didn't want to share with an outsider. And whatever 'it' was, he had a feeling it was going to be the 'it' that was going to go wrong and delay the rest of his journey. Iolaus maintained his nonchalance and kept pretending he didn't notice the stares and whispers, preferring that the confrontation come from the other side. Which it quickly did, in the form of a man wearing magistrate robes, flanked by three large men who were most likely very capable of enforcing the law that he designed.

"I don't recognize you, stranger," the magistrate said, getting straight to the point.

"I've never been here before," Iolaus replied evenly, polite but not about to give out any information without getting some in return.

"What brings you to Allegenae?" the man demanded, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Just passing through," the hunter answered, deliberately being evasive.

"Maybe it's time you kept on passing," one of the brutes suggested.

"Maybe not," Iolaus said quietly, folding his arms over his chest.

"You are not welcome here, stranger," another thug insisted angrily.

"I'm not really welcome out there, either," the hunter rebutted with a small smirk, waving a hand toward the inhospitable wilds surrounding the village.

"You'd be better off out there than if you stay."

"Really?" Iolaus fixed a cool eyed stare on the largest man, letting him know exactly what he thought of such intimidation tactics. "We'll see." He turned his back on them and began to amble off, daring someone to try to make good on the threat. While viewing some sacred ceremony was hardly worth all the trouble he knew he was getting himself into, he was starting to have strong feelings that this little celebration was not so innocent. He couldn't leave without first making sure that nothing sinister was going on, and besides, he'd never been one to take orders, especially not from mindless thugs.

"Magistrate, we can't delay any longer. We must begin the ritual."

The hunter froze as he overheard the words that were not meant for his ears. He'd born witness to several rituals over the years, and not one of them had meant anything good. He turned back around, taking in the newcomer who had spoken too loudly, before fixing his blue-eyed gaze on the magistrate. They locked eyes for several heartbeats, then the man turned to his impatient friend.

"The ritual will commence," he announced. As the man dashed off to begin preparations, the magistrate addressed the thugs behind him. "Make sure he does not interfere."

Iolaus found himself surrounded by the brutes as he was ushered, none too gently, to the foot of the platform. One of them clamped a meaty hand on his shoulder as the magistrate climbed up and stood before the gathering crowd.

"The time has come," he called out somberly. Behind him, the mask of indifference slipped away from the girl's face, replaced by one of terror. The magistrate noticed and moved to stand beside her, placing a hand on her arm. It appeared to be a reassuring gesture, but the hunter suspected it was really more for restraint. "We all thank Arsen and Cynara for their sacrifice, which will not go unrewarded during the coming winter. And of course, we honor Kayla, our chosen one. Now, my friends, the harvest moon is risen and it is time to make the offering."

He motioned for the girl to rise, but she remained seated, shaking her head slowly in fear. The magistrate grasped her arm tightly and yanked hard, pulling her up from her seat.

"No, please," she begged frantically. "Please, don't do this!"

It was all Iolaus needed to see, and before his guards even knew what hit them, they were on the ground and he was leaping up on the platform.

"Let her go," he ordered quietly, but the deadly gleam in his eyes let the magistrate know he meant business.

"This is not your concern, stranger!" the man shouted, preoccupied with trying to hold on to the struggling girl.

"Whatever you're planning here, she doesn't want to be part of it," the hunter said, a bit more forcefully. He reached out and grasped the magistrate by the front of his robes, commanding his attention. "Now let her go!"

After a moment's hesitation, the man complied and the girl flew off of the platform into the arms of the couple hovering alongside. They hugged her tightly with a mix of relief and apprehension.

"You don't know what you're doing!" the magistrate seethed. "If she is not sacrificed, then we will all die!"

"No one is touching her," Iolaus insisted, drawing his sword for emphasis and pointing it down to where the beaten thugs were pulling themselves together. He paused, but when it appeared that no one was going to challenge him, he turned and addressed the couple and their daughter. "Take her home." As they obeyed, he turned back to face the uncertain crowd. "Now, it appears that you have a problem here in Allegenae. Why don't we sit down and talk about it and see what we can do to fix it?"

"There's no time for that," the magistrate argued. "We must present an offering or..."

"It's not an option," the hunter told him firmly. "I'm not letting you sacrifice her, or anyone else. If you want my help..."

"What can you do?" the magistrate interrupted, looking him up and down scornfully.

"Just tell me what's going on," Iolaus said, more kindly than the man deserved. He slipped his sword back into its sheath and grinned slyly. "You might be surprised."

Iolaus picked up his mug, draining the last few drops from it before slamming it back down onto the table with a frustrated thump and a weary sigh. He’d only had two ales, but his head was pounding worse than if he’d drunk the whole barrel. What he thought would be a simple explanation of whatever was menacing the village had turned into hours of debate, with the people all bickering and arguing over the details. Everyone had their own legend to tell, and tell they did, with righteous insistence. And it was all going nowhere, fast.

“All right, enough,” the hunter commanded, rising to his feet and holding up his hands to halt the quarreling. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Every year during the harvest moon you take a girl of sixteen summers and leave her, bound, out in the forest.”

Heads all nodded in unison.

“At least we can all agree on that,” Iolaus muttered under his breath. “Now, this is something you’ve done for generations?” More nodding. “Yet, nobody currently living here today has ever seen or heard anything that would indicate a monster out in those woods?”

A buzz started through the crowd, for one of the hot topics had been whether or not there even was a monster, or if the sacrifice was made to the forest, itself.

“Just answer the question,” the hunter called out impatiently. “Has anyone ever seen or heard anything strange?”

“No,” one of the villagers piped up. “But we don’t ever go into The Forest.”

It was the only consistent factor among all the various stories. The utterance of “The Forest” in hushed tones, almost reverently, as if to do otherwise would lead to some sort of retribution.

“All right,” Iolaus tried again. “But if you aren’t even sure what you’re sacrificing to, how do you know that these offerings aren’t being made in vain?”

The villagers all looked at each other in confusion, as if the thought had never crossed their minds.

“This is a tradition that goes back...”

“To your forefathers,” the hunter finished, a bit exasperatedly. “Yeah, I know, you’ve told me. Repeatedly. But whether it was a treaty made with the forest, a curse of the gods, or a malevolent sorcerer really isn’t important. What matters is if your tradition is outdated. What if this threat is gone now, and you’re sending these poor girls out to die for nothing?”

“Well, they never return,” a man argued. “If The Forest doesn’t take them, then what happens to them?”

“You’re leaving children tied up and helpless alone in the woods,” Iolaus said incredulously. “If a wolf or a lion doesn’t get to them, the cold certainly does.”

“Don’t listen to him,” the magistrate told the villagers, speaking up as he saw that the stranger’s words had given more than a few food for thought. “He’s an outsider and he doesn’t belong here. Our traditions ensure our safety, and if you believe his lies, then Allegenae is doomed and we will all surely die.”

“He’s right,” the hunter spoke up. “I’m not one of you. And maybe I don’t have the right to come into your village and tell you how to live your lives. But if you believe nothing else, believe this. I’m only trying to help.” He paused, looking out at the sea of faces before him. “Forget about duty or need. Just answer me this. How many of you actually want to go on sacrificing your daughters?”

The crowd was silent, and the magistrate glared at them as if they had betrayed him.

“It is our tradition,” he insisted again.

“Some traditions aren’t worth honoring,” Iolaus admonished him. “The lives of your people should be worth more than tradition.”

“I do this to protect my people,” the magistrate shouted. “One life has to be given to preserve the village. It is a sacrifice, but the families are honored and compensated for their loss.”

“And what about the girls?” the hunter demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. “How are they compensated for their loss?” When he received no answer, at least not a verbal one, he turned back to the crowd. “This year, why not forgo the sacrifice?” he suggested. “Your time is almost up, anyway. I’ll stand guard over the village until morning, and if anything stirs out in those woods tonight, I’ll deal with it.”

“What if you can’t?” someone called out.

“Then you have to band together as a village and stand up for yourselves,” he told them. “I’ll do what I can, but eventually you’re going to have to make the choice. Either remain as slaves to this tradition, or you can stand and fight for your children. What’s it going to be?”

There was a hum of conversation as the villagers all discussed the proposal among themselves, but it did not take them long to reach a decision. Most of them had children, and the hope of ending the barbaric tradition and sparing their own daughters such a fate was too much to ignore. So they voted as a whole to put their trust in the lone warrior who had come to their village, and that harvest moon in Allegenae was the first in countless generations where the fairest sixteen year old girl was not sacrificed to The Forest.

As he had promised, Iolaus had kept watch in the clearing outside of town, putting himself between the village and the forest but growing more and more confident as the night passed that he had been right and the so called threat was nothing more than a myth. Finally, as dawn broke and Allegenae began stirring with activity, the magistrate led a small group out to where the hunter had been keeping his vigil.

“It appears you were right,” the magistrate told him, obviously hating to admit it. “So it seems we owe you an apology.” As he hesitated, one of the men behind him elbowed him gently. “And a debt of thanks,” he continued through clenched teeth.

“I’m glad I could help,” Iolaus replied modestly. Certainly, he was happy that his interference had spared the future of Allegenae from suffering such a horrible tradition, but his happiness was sobered by the thought of how many countless young girls had already given their lives, all for nothing. It was such a waste.

“We would like to invite you to stay with us,” the magistrate continued. “You must be tired after spending the night out here. You can get something to eat and rest, and then tonight we are throwing another feast, in your honor.”

“I’m flattered,” the hunter told him, blushing slightly. “But that’s not really necessary. And I am supposed to be meeting some friends...”

“Please,” the magistrate said, taking his arm. He smiled, although there was no warmth behind it and his eyes were still hard and cold. “We insist.”

“Iolaus doesn’t know what he missed,” Jason chuckled, taking the ale the innkeeper handed him and making his way to a free table. “Those were the most entertaining peace talks I’ve ever attended.”

“Good thing he did bail out on us,” Hercules said, following him with his own drink. “I could hardly keep a straight face as it was, and I didn’t even dare look at you or it would have been all over. Iolaus never would have made it through King Cyril’s speech.” The demigod set his mug on the table, but remained standing, adopting a posturing stance as he imitated the king. “We are all sovereigns, who have been given sovereignty to rule as sovereign entities over our sovereign nations. And our sovereign nations must come together to unite.”

The Argonaut almost choked as he burst out laughing while trying to take a drink of ale.

“What was that he said about the best way to create peace?” he asked, when he was able to speak.

“The best way to create peace is to find the people that are fighting and get them to stop,” Hercules replied with a smile as he slid onto the bench at the table. “Now why didn’t you ever think of that when you were king?”

“Don’t know how that one slipped by me,” Jason grinned. “But you forgot the best one.”

The two old friends looked at each other over the rim of their mugs, slamming them to the table and shouting out in unison.

“Don’t misunderestimate us!”

They broke down laughing, garnering a strange look from the serving girl as she set two meals in front of them. Trying to remember they were in public, they attempted to settle down and act their ages, even though they tended to fall back into the boisterous ways of their youths with natural familiarity whenever they were together.

“Cyril does try, but the boy can barely speak Greek,” Jason commented as he dug into his venison.

“I don’t remember his father being that bad,” Hercules said thoughtfully.

“He was articulate enough,” the Argonaut agreed. “A little too articulate, maybe. He had to eat his words a few times.” He paused, a grin creeping over his face. “And then there was that royal dinner.”

“What royal dinner?”

“One I held in Corinth, back when Cyril’s father was king. We’d barely started, and he got sick right there on the table and passed out cold on the floor.”

“You’re kidding,” the demigod snickered. “You know, I never thought about it, but I bet you have the dirt on all of Greece’s monarchs. Tell me another one.”

“Well,” Jason began, thinking it over. “There was the king of Eleusis. He was determined to give every woman in his kingdom the royal treatment, if you know what I mean.”

“How far did he get?” Hercules wondered, amused.

“I don’t know,” the Argonaut told him, his eyes twinkling merrily. “But he set a record in Corinth at that state dinner.”

The demigod shook his head, not sure if his friend was telling the truth or pulling his leg, but he didn’t get the chance to inquire. A young man had approached, and was hovering uncertainly a few feet from their table. He looked bedraggled and road worn, as if he’d been traveling, and he grasped a roll of parchment tightly in his hands.

“Can I do something for you?” Hercules asked kindly.

“Yes sir,” the stranger said meekly. “If you are Hercules.”

“I am,” the demigod confirmed.

“I was sent to bring this to you.” He thrust the scroll forward and Hercules took it from him, unrolling it and holding it closer to the small oil lamp on the table.

“It’s from Iolaus,” the demigod revealed, frowning slightly as he scanned the parchment. “He’s in trouble in Allegenae and he needs our help.”

“What sort of trouble?” Jason asked, immediately becoming concerned.

“He didn’t go into detail,” Hercules replied, handing him the scroll so he could read it for himself and glancing at the messenger. But the young man was merely a goat herder with a sick mother from outside the village, in desperate need of the few dinars Iolaus had offered him to deliver the parchment to his friends, and he couldn’t provide any additional information.

“I’ll take care of the bill,” the Argonaut said after he’d glanced over the message. “Why don’t you go up and get our stuff?”

The demigod nodded and got up from the table, trotting upstairs to collect their few belongings from the room they had rented, leaving Jason to toss a few coins down on the table and worry about what their friend had gotten himself into this time. When Hercules returned, they got the messenger set up in their vacated room and gave him enough dinars for something to eat and drink. Then they left the inn and set out into the night for Allegenae.

Hercules was naturally worried about Iolaus, and if he’d been alone, he would have kept walking through the night. But Jason was mortal, without the resistence to cold and hunger and fatigue that the demigod’s divine blood provided. They’d already walked all night and day, and the Argonaut had not complained once, but Hercules knew that his friend was reaching his limits. He needed to rest, to warm up next to a fire, and to eat something. So although the demigod felt twinges of impatience and frustration at having to stop, he understandingly brushed them aside and began to set up camp. As he gathered up some branches for kindling, he wryly reflected that Jason had been a nice change of pace from his usual traveling companion. For although Iolaus was in better physical condition and was frequently able to match the demigod in endurance, he was much more vocal about the hardships. Much, much more. Stifling a sigh as he realized he was staring wistfully at the road that would lead them further up into the mountains, Hercules shook his head slightly and went back to his tasks. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what sort of trouble his partner had blundered into, and he just hoped that Iolaus would be able to hold out until help arrived.

The two men set out again at dawn, traversing quickly up the mountain road and arriving at Allegenae before the sun had reached it’s noon position. They looked around the peaceful village, not seeing any signs of anything that could reasonably be defined as urgent trouble.

“It’s quiet,” Hercules murmured.

“Yeah, too quiet,” Jason said. “Where’s Iolaus?”

“Let’s find out.” The demigod moved forward and approached a woman who was filling a pitcher with water at the fountain in the center of town. “Excuse me. We’re looking for a friend of ours. He’s about this tall, blond hair, blue eyes...”

“Iolaus?” The woman turned to them with a sad smile. “I’m afraid he’s gone.”

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Jason asked.

“He went into The Forest three days ago,” she told them, nodding toward a stretch of trees on the other side of the village. “And he never came back out.”

"That's quite a tradition," Jason murmured, accepting the steaming mug that Cynara handed him.

"It wasn't one that we were proud of," she admitted, setting another mug down in front of the demigod. "But we had honored it for so long, nobody ever thought to question it. Until Iolaus showed up, that is. And when nobody could even provide a clear reason why we were sacrificing our children, he convinced us to forgo the offering this year. It was obvious that he never thought there was a threat to the village, and after thinking it over, many people started to agree with his logic. As for the rest of us, well, I guess we just wanted to believe that with his help, we could take a stand and protect Allegenae."

"Go back to the night of the harvest moon," Hercules urged her, not liking at all what he was hearing. "Tell me exactly what happened when you didn't make an offering."

"At first, nothing," Cynara explained, sitting down at the table with her two guests. "Morning dawned and the village was still standing and we all felt like fools. There was an air of sadness, and reproach for what we'd done over the years in the name of tradition. But mostly, we were all happy, and ready to celebrate the end of a very long, dark era in Allegenae. Especially Arsen and myself. We were devastated when our daughter was chosen to be sacrificed, and I can't tell you of the relief and joy we both felt to know she'd been spared. Iolaus was ready to move on, but we wouldn't let him. After the way he'd saved our Kayla, Arsen and I welcomed him into our home. He had breakfast with us and slept for a few hours, but after that he insisted in helping Arsen out in the forge. That night we had a feast in his honor, even though he asked us not to. I'm afraid Allegenae isn't used to such modesty."

"Modesty," the Argonaut scoffed, rolling his eyes slightly. "That's Iolaus, all right."

"Whatever he was, Allegenae had never seen anything like him," Cynara continued with a smile. "He was like a bard's tale, come to life. And he charmed the whole village, my daughter, in particular." Her smile faded away and she looked down at her hands, folded on the table top. "Kayla had a touch of hero worship, I think."

"Go on," the demigod prodded, trying to control his impatience. "What happened after the feast?"

"It broke up quickly when a thick fog rolled in. Worse than I can ever remember seeing, and everyone was anxious to get home before it became too bad. Iolaus came with us, and when we got back to the house we all turned in for the night. The next morning, we discovered that Kayla was gone. At first we weren't too concerned, until we found out that several other children were missing as well. Mostly girls, all around Kayla's age, vanished without a trace. We all tried to tell each other there was no cause for alarm, but deep down inside everyone knew the truth. The Forest had claimed it's offering."

"What did Iolaus do?" Jason asked gently.

"He said he was going for help." Cynara paused, swallowing hard. "I could tell he thought there was something sinister behind the kids' disappearance, but when he headed out of Allegenae, most people thought that was the last we'd see of him. He returned a short time later and announced that he'd sent for his friend." She smiled again, fixing a soft gaze on the demigod. "Iolaus assured us that if he wasn't able to figure out what happened to the children, his friend, Hercules, would for sure. Then he said he was going into The Forest."

"Now THAT'S Iolaus," the demigod whispered, both loving his friend for his noble, caring heart, and cursing him for it at the same time.

"The look on his face," Cynara sighed. "Like he had failed us. He was so devastated that no one could blame him for what happened, but we could all see he blamed himself. I warned him it was a suicide mission, but he said it was his fault and that he had to try and make things right. We watched him go into The Forest, and nobody's seen him since."

"Then that's where we'll start looking," Hercules announced, rising from the table.

"You can't," she protested. "You'll disappear, too. The Forest is evil..."

"A forest can't be evil," Jason argued.

"That's what Iolaus said, right before he vanished."

The Argonaut and the demigod exchanged a quick glance. Something was afoot in Allegenae, and their friend had become an apparent victim to it. So no threat of evil was going to stop them from finding out what had befallen the brave hunter.

"Thanks for the tea," Hercules said simply, all discussion over as far as he was concerned.

Jason gave the woman a kind smile and placed a comforting hand on her arm as the demigod left the house.

"Iolaus was right about one thing," he told her. "If anyone can find your daughter, it's Hercules. Don't lose hope."

Then he turned and slipped out the door, trotting slightly to catch up with his friend who was already striding purposefully toward the dark, foreboding woods.

“Maybe I was wrong,” Jason admitted in hushed tones. “Maybe a forest can be evil, after all.”

Hercules didn’t comment, but deep down inside he was inclined to agree with his friend. As soon as they’d set foot in the woods, it was like they’d entered a different world. The trees in the ancient forest stood tall and proud, but there was something almost sinister about the way they blocked the sunlight, ensuring that the ground below the canopy was shrouded in gloom and incapable of sustaining any other growing plants. It was colder, too, and the air was thick and heavy and damp and clung to them uncomfortably. And it was eerily still, so deathly silent that the two men could hear each other’s heartbeats. There were no birds chirping, no squirrels frolicking in the trees, not even a fly or mosquito buzzing around their heads. No traces of life at all, save for the two warriors who had dared to brave the depths of The Forest. And yet, Hercules couldn’t help feeling that they were not alone. Something was out there, a presence that surrounded them, pulsating with malevolence, and the demigod didn’t need to ask to know that Jason felt it, too.

“Stay close to me.”

The Argonaut didn’t need to be told, already realizing that this was one search where it wouldn’t be advantageous to split up. He looked down at the carpet of pine needles and dead leaves that made up the forest floor, then glanced around at the lack of shrubs and bushes which could have provided them with tell tale clues.

“It’s going to be hard to track him,” Jason observed. “No footprints, and no trail to follow.”

“You have a better idea?” Hercules snapped.

“Hey, I’m on your side, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” the demigod apologized, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just worried about him, Jason. I’m starting to get a real bad feeling about this. Whatever Iolaus got himself mixed up in, it’s serious. And you’re right, it’s not going to be easy finding him.”

“Come on,” the Argonaut reassured his friend, slapping him on the back. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Hercules nodded as they started moving deeper into the woods, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of the missing hunter although tracking had never been either man’s forte.

“You know,” the demigod commented with a wry grin. “We could really use Iolaus right about now.”

“Maybe he can still help us,” Jason said thoughtfully. “After all, he knew we were coming so if there were any way possible for him to leave us a sign, he’d have found a way to do it.”

But after a few hours of searching through the woods, the two warriors were empty handed and discouraged. They had found no traces of Iolaus, the missing children, or any evidence that anything else lived in the forest. All they came up with was the profound feeling that they were being watched.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Hercules finally announced in disgust. “Let’s get out of here and go back to the village.”

“You’re giving up?” Jason demanded, unable to believe what he was hearing. The demigod never gave up, especially not when the fate of one of his friends was hanging in the balance.

“No,” Hercules sighed, not liking where his anxiety and helplessness were leading him. “But we need to try a different tactic. You go back to Allegenae. Try to help where you can, and see if anyone can tell you anything else.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Somebody knows what’s going on here,” the demigod concluded, his features darkening into a scowl. “And somebody is going to tell me the truth.”

“I’m sorry, Hercules,” Hephaestus told him with a solemn shake of his head. “I don’t know anything about it.”

“One of the other gods has to be behind this,” the demigod argued, pacing restlessly around the forge.

“If they are, they haven’t said anything to me.” The god paused, glancing around the mountainous cavern where he lived and worked. “Although, I don’t spend much time on Olympus, and no one ever comes down here unless they need something.”

“Whatever is out in those woods, it’s got Iolaus,” Hercules said tightly. “But I can’t get him back if I don’t even know what I’m up against.”

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” Hephaestus offered kindly. “I’ll ask Aphrodite to see what she can find out. Nothing happens on Olympus without her knowledge, so if this is the work of one of the others, she’ll be sure to know.”

“Thank you,” the demigod murmured, grateful for once to his sister’s predilection for gossip.

The god nodded as Hercules left the forge, genuinely wanting to help the man who had befriended him back when no one else wanted to know him. And he did owe Iolaus one for helping to unite him with Aphrodite, whose beauty and love made life worth living. So a little recognizance was the least he could do.

Jason looked up hopefully as Hercules entered the village, but a small shake of the head quickly dashed his hopes.

“Hephaestus promised to look into it, but he couldn’t tell me anything,” the demigod announced. “I don’t suppose you’ve found out anything useful here?”

“Nothing that makes any sense,” the Argonaut sighed, having spent the last few hours being bombarded with the same conflicting stories that Iolaus had heard. “So now what do we do?”

“Well, I know better than to sit around waiting on the gods to help out,” Hercules said grimly. “So I guess it’s back to the forest.”

“We’ve been all through there...”

“I know, but it’s the only thing we have to go on,” the demigod insisted. “Whatever happened to Iolaus, happened to him in those woods. That’s where we’re going to find the answer. We have to at least try.”

“All right,” Jason agreed. “The kids all went missing during the night. Maybe now that it’s dark, whatever’s haunting that forest will show itself.”

“Let’s hope so.” Although he didn’t voice it, Hercules also hoped that they would be ready to deal with it, whatever it was.

Against the protests of the villagers, the two warriors set out, armed with a sword and two torches. Under normal circumstances, that would have been enough. But whether it was the dread they’d felt during their previous trek into the forest, or the unyielding certainty of the villagers that they were doomed, the two old friends were feeling a bit unprepared for the danger they were about to face. However, that had never stopped them before, so they heroically marched headlong into the dark woods, determined to get to the bottom of Iolaus’ disappearance.

It was darker than the very depths of Hades, and the air was so damp and cloistering that the torches were reduced to a feeble glow. Visibility was made even worse by a heavy fog drifting through the trees, and the maddening silence put both men on edge. Hercules felt the same presence from before surround them, stronger this time and radiating a malignant evil. All the same he pressed on, taking one careful step after another, determined not to show any fear and hoping to provoke the sinister being into a confrontation. The fog grew thicker, pressing down on him and clinging to the extent that he had to make a conscious effort not to try and brush it off his skin. He began to imagine that it was getting harder to breathe, so he turned around to check on how his friend was faring. But all he saw was the swirling fog.

“Jason!” he called out frantically. There was no answer. Hercules found his friend’s torch lying on the ground, three paces behind him. He called out for him again, desperately searching the area, straining to see through the thick fog and the crippling darkness. But it was all in vain. He was alone, and the Argonaut was gone.

“It’s not your fault, Hercules.”

The demigod looked up as his sister materialized before him in a shower of pink and gold sparkles.

“He was right behind me, Aphrodite,” he said quietly, pushing away his untouched bowl of stew. “How is it not my fault?”

“You did what you could.”

“What I did was let my friend disappear right out from under my nose.” Hercules stood up from the bench, turning toward the woods and crossing his arms over his broad chest, his body tense with frustration. “I didn’t even see it.” He glanced back toward the goddess of love. “I don’t suppose you’re here to tell me what ‘it’ is?”

“Sorry.” Aphrodite’s lovely face was full of sympathy as she shook her blond curls slightly. “Whatever ‘it’ is, it’s not from the gods.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m sure. Ares is off overseeing a war in the Peloponnese and Hera’s busy catfighting with Artemis over the Amazons. I asked Zeus, but he was just as confused as you.”

“Thanks for trying,” the demigod sighed.

“I do have good news,” the goddess announced, brightening. “I checked with Hades, and Iolaus isn’t there. Neither are those missing kids. So at least we know they are still alive, right?”

“Right,” Hercules murmured, although he didn’t share his sister’s enthusiasm. He knew from experience that there were some things that were worse than death. He could only hope his friends and those innocent kids weren’t finding that out for themselves.

“Do you want me to go back to Hades and ask about Jason?”

“No.” The demigod ran a hand over his face. “He’s probably with the others. Somewhere out there. Now I just have to find them.”

“Good luck, Bro,” the goddess of love told him. “If I find out anything else, I’ll let you know.”

“I appreciate the help, Aphrodite.”

“No prob. Just find my Sweet Cheeks, ok?”

“I’ll try,” Hercules whispered as she vanished. “I just wish I knew how.”

Feeling rather discouraged, which was an emotion the demigod did not know well, he left the village and returned to the forest. The silence taunted him, by it’s very nature boasting of secrets that it would not reveal. Hercules kicked at the mist swirling around his boots angrily, glaring at it as it danced away elegantly, only to return to encircle him once more. Deciding to ignore it, he began walking through the woods with single minded purpose, but again, his search turned up nothing. Just that damned insidious presence all around him, watching him, stalking him, but refusing to take him as it had his friends. Finally, the demigod stopped walking and sat down on a fallen log. This battle obviously was not going to be won with strength, so it was time to push his emotions aside and clear his head and think things out.

Hercules knew he had to be missing something. He could only assume that his divine blood protected him from the fate that had claimed his friends. And if they weren’t with Hades, then they still had to be in the forest. Somewhere. It was the one thing of which the demigod was sure. Even without Aphrodite telling him, he knew, instinctively, that his partner was still there among the woods. He could sense Iolaus, his vibrant essence, calling out to him from deep within the core of the evil. And it was worse than torture for Hercules that he didn’t know how to reach him, couldn’t pull him back to safety. Or Jason, or those missing children.

The demigod sat up a little straighter as something occurred to him. Maybe the kids that vanished after the harvest moon weren’t with Hades, but this tradition in Allegenae had been carried out for generations. What he needed more than anything was someone who could tell him what was going on, and he suddenly realized that perhaps he had access to that after all. His hopes quickly becoming renewed with this flash of inspiration, Hercules jumped up and began running out of the forest back toward the village, praying that somebody there had a good memory.

“They’re here.”

“All of them?” Hercules demanded.

“All the names you gave me,” Hades replied, quickly double checking his inventory scrolls.

“I need to talk to them,” the demigod told him. When he received no answer, he turned to his uncle with steel in his blue eyes. “People’s lives are at stake. You have to let me talk to them.”

“There’s a problem, Hercules.”

“There always is,” the demigod muttered, rolling his eyes. “What is it this time?”

“Their memories have all been erased.”

“Why?”

“I do it to every mortal that dies a violent death,” Hades explained. “The Elysian Fields isn’t a paradise of peace if you’re haunted by the trauma of your death.”

“I guess I can understand that,” Hercules murmured, thinking back to how much happier his wife and children had been without having to live with the knowledge that they were victims of Hera’s wrath. “But is it reversible?”

“It is, but it would be up to them if they wanted to remember.”

“Can you just ask them, please?” The demigod hated to beg, but his only chance was to talk to a former victim of the Allegenae tradition and he was willing to humble himself to get the help he so desperately needed.

“Very well. Wait here.”

Hercules didn’t even try to make himself comfortable in the gloomy room, choosing to pace restlessly around the huge desk, idly noting that Persephone’s decorative influence apparently hadn’t worked it’s way into Hades’ office yet. The minutes ticked by and the demigod’s agitation grew, although he realized time probably had little relevance to those with immortality. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Hades returned and Hercules was relieved to see he wasn’t alone. He escorted a tiny waif of a girl into the room and introduced her to his nephew.

“This is Thadea,” the god of the underworld announced in a kind voice. “She has agreed to talk to you, and her memories have been restored.” He gave the girl a gentle push toward the demigod and stepped back to wait unobtrusively in the shadows.

Hercules reached out a hand, and the girl timidly took it. Gallantly, he escorted her to a stern looking chair, taking the one across from her and finding it to be much more comfortable than it appeared.

Thank you for speaking with me, Thadea,” he began. “I’m sorry you have to remember all of this, but it may be the only way to save two of my friends and a group of children from your village. I promise you, I’m going to do what I can to make sure what happened to you doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

“I’m not really sure what did happen,” she said in a wavering voice.

“Well, let’s start with what you do remember,” the demigod encouraged her. “Think back to the night of the harvest moon.”

“There weren’t any volunteers that year,” Thadea whispered, staring at the floor. “There was a fever that spring and many of the villagers died. A lot of children. When it came time to select an offering, I was the best they had.” She paused for a moment, reaching up to wipe her eyes. “My father fought them on it. I was all he had, and he refused to give me up. But he was... He wasn’t well, and he couldn’t stop them. After the feast, they took me out into The Forest and left me there.”

“Then what happened?” Hercules prompted as she faltered.

“It was so dark,” the girl continued hollowly. “And I was so afraid. But they had me tied up and I couldn’t move. I knew they had my father locked up back in the village, so he couldn’t come for me. It was so quiet. I never heard a sound, but I knew something was coming for me. And I knew I was going to die.”

The demigod reached out his hands and Thadea grasped them with her own small ones, clinging to him as she mentally relived her terror.

“What was it?” he asked quietly.

“The fog,” she answered with a sob. “But it wasn’t an ordinary fog. It surrounded me, and it became.. I don’t know. Real, somehow. Solid. It sort of cocooned around me, and it was like I was wrapped up in canvas. Then everything cleared. I was still in The Forest and I could see and hear everything around me, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even speak or blink.”

“How long were you there?” Hercules murmured, feeling a new rage building toward this enemy.

“I don’t know. I lost track of the days. Months, I think. I remember when spring came. That’s also when the...”

“Go on.”

“When the pain started.” Thadea drew her hands away from his and wrapped her arms tightly around her small body. “I didn’t feel anything at first. But then everything slowly started to hurt. It got worse and worse, and there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t even scream or cry. And if I could have, I would have begged for death. I thought I was going to lose my mind, but then it finally started to fade.” She paused, a small frown puckering her lips as she thought back. “Everything started to fade. And then one day, I woke up here.”

Hercules had grown rigid with anger as he listened to the child’s story, but he forced himself to relax and he reached out and took her hands again, squeezing them slightly.

“Thadea, you were very brave in agreeing to do this,” he told her with utmost sincerity. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that you had to go through that, but I give you my word that I’m going to make sure no one else ever suffers what you did.”

He tried to stand up, but the girl clung to him, halting his departure.

“Hercules, wait, please,” she begged. “If you’re going back to Allegenae, would you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Find my father,” she requested with tears in her eyes. “Tell him that I saw him there, when he came to The Forest. He couldn’t see me, and I couldn’t move or talk. But I know that he came after me as soon as he could, and what happened wasn’t his fault.”

“What is your father’s name?”

“Ennis,” she replied. “Let him know that I’m all right now. Please?”

“I promise,” he vowed, reaching out to cup her cheek and giving her a reassuring smile. Then he stood up and turned to Hades, the kindness in his blue eyes quickly replaced by a determined ire. The god of the underworld nodded once and stretched out a hand, sending a bolt of light shooting out straight at his nephew.

Hercules sat up slowly, shaking his head slightly to clear it, finding that he had been deposited on the perimeter of the village. Getting to his feet, he began brushing himself off, realizing he should be used to such abrupt trips by now but still speculating that there had to be a better way. He startled slightly as a light suddenly flashed next to him, not expecting or anticipating his uncle’s arrival.

“What are you doing here?”

“Curiosity,” Hades shrugged. “A little job related field work, if you will.” It sounded credible, but the demigod wasn’t buying it and looked at his uncle critically. “What? If there’s something sending mortals to my realm, I at least have an obligation to find out what it is, don’t I?”

“Demeter’s visiting, isn’t she?”

“She’s been here for three days,” the god moaned. “I mean, she just had Persephone for six months. You’d think she’d have the decency to let us have a little privacy. Hey, where are you going?”

While Hercules could sympathize with the problem, he wasn’t sure that ‘decency’ and ‘privacy’ were words many of the gods even knew. And he certainly had more urgent matters to attend to than his uncle’s turbulent love life.

“To go see Thadea’s father,” he called back over his shoulder. He had made a promise, and he planned on keeping it. And he also needed time to think. For although he now knew more or less what he was facing, it didn’t help his solution to become any clearer. But, everything had a weakness, a vulnerability. Hercules just had to figure out how to get his hands on a fog.

Entering the village, the demigod went straight for Cynara and Arsen’s home. He could hear the ringing of the hammer against the anvil out in the forge, and he winced in empathy. Arsen had all but isolated himself there, working nonstop all day and into the night. Beating on the resisting metal, in a futile attempt to work out the anger and helplessness and fear that had consumed him when his daughter had disappeared. But Hercules knew from experience that no amount of labor could erase those feelings. Arsen would have to come to grips with them eventually. Unless the demigod could live up to the faith and trust Iolaus had put in him and bring back the missing kids.

He knocked on the door and after a moment Cynara answered. She invited him in, and he declined her offers of refreshments and instead inquired about Ennis.

“I’m afraid he doesn’t live in Allegenae anymore.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“No,” she replied. “He left a few years ago. And truthfully, we were glad to see him go.”

“Why is that?”

“He was a drunk,” Cynara told him. “At one point he was a fine leather worker. But when his wife died, he gave up his trade. Spent his days brewing juniper wine, and his nights drinking it. He’d wander around town in a stupor, a bottle in his hand. Loud, obnoxious, causing trouble. Left it to his little girl to try and take care of the house and make ends meet. Poor thing’s probably better off now than living that kind of life.”

The woman gasped sharply as a solid fist came banging down on her table.

“I don’t think you want to say that again,” Hercules said tightly.

Cynara hesitated, seeing the anger in the demigod’s eyes and not sure what to do about it.

“I didn’t mean any harm,” she finally offered in a small voice. “Ennis obviously loved his daughter. He got quite violent when she was chosen to be that year’s offering. But we had to do it. We’d lost so many to illness, Thadea was all we had. The magistrate locked Ennis up to keep him from interfering, and we all thought once it was done, it would be all right. But once he was let out in the morning, the poor man headed straight off for The Forest. Some of the men had loaded him up with wine in his cell to make it easier to bear, and he was so drunk that he couldn’t even walk straight. We watched him weaving and stumbling and when he crashed into The Forest we all thought it was the last we’d ever see of him. But the next morning, there he was, staggering back into the village.”

“He was in there all night?” Hercules clarified, confused. He’d begun to give weight to Jason’s theory that the presence only attacked after dark. So it didn’t make sense that this man would have been able to come and go as Cynara attested.

“Claimed he was looking for Thadea. But he came back saying he knew that she was gone and telling these wild stories about the fog attacking him.”

“You didn’t believe him?”

“Who would believe a story like that?” Cynara scoffed. “Especially from a half crazy drunk like Ennis. More likely he passed out as soon as he hit the woods and he slept it off there until he was sober enough to come back home.”

“Or maybe he was telling the truth,” the demigod muttered, rising from his seat at the table. “Are you sure you don’t know where I can find Ennis now?”

“He never said where he was going,” the woman shrugged. “Just that Allegenae had too many painful memories for him to stay. As I said, nobody was really sorry to see him go, so nobody took an interest in where he was heading.”

“All right,” Hercules told her distractedly, the wheels in his mind already rapidly turning. “Thanks.”

He left the house, more confused than ever and desperately wishing he could speak with Ennis. If the man’s story had been true, he had somehow managed to survive the deadly fog. And the demigod would have dearly loved to hear his account of how he’d done it.

Wandering away from the village, Hercules’ train of thought was broken as he spied Hades hanging around up near the forest. He changed course, walking up to meet his uncle, who greeted him with a perplexed expression.

“There is something here,” he confirmed, waving a hand back toward the woods. “But it’s not of the gods, or of this earth. The presence I sense is ancient. I’d say it goes back even before the time of the Titans.” The god clasped his hands behind his back as he began to stroll along the edge of the forest, his own wheels turning just as rapidly as that of his nephew. “From what Thadea told us... I can only speculate that this must be some sort of parasitic being. It must have the power to paralyze it’s victims, keeping them alive in some sort of suspended animation as it slowly feeds off them.”

“That’s why the girls were sacrificed on the harvest moon,” Hercules concluded. “Because it takes this thing that long to kill it’s victims. A year passes before it needs another one.”

“And when it didn’t get one this year...”

“It went looking for it’s prey,” the demigod surmised. “Which means that it has some sort of advanced thought capacity.”

“And a preference for young girls,” Hades theorized. “Although, judging from what happened with Iolaus and Jason, I’d say it doesn’t pass up an easy opportunity, either.”

“Now the question is how to get them all back,” Hercules sighed. He cast a glance at his uncle. “I don’t suppose you could do anything?”

“I doubt it,” the god replied. “I can’t even see this.... Whatever it is. I just have a vague sense of it’s presence. But I can tell you, your friends are there. This... fog is masking them well, but I can feel their souls. They are there, behind it’s presence. It feels like... they’d be all right if you could get it to release them somehow.”

“I’ve been in that forest,” the demigod said slowly, the germ of an idea coming to him. “I’ve felt that fog clinging to me, but so far it hasn’t been able to take me like it did the others. I assumed it was do my being half god. It grants me immunity, somehow.”

“That makes sense,” Hades agreed.

“Well, there was one other who went into those woods and lived to tell about it,” Hercules mused. “Thadea’s father. He left town, but not before spinning a yarn about the fog attacking him. If that’s true, then there has to be a reason he wasn’t taken. And I highly doubt this man had any divine blood to protect him.”

“Maybe he just didn’t taste good.”

The demigod made a face, preparing to comment on his uncle’s insensitive sense of humor, but something suddenly struck him.

“That could be it,” he murmured.

“What are you talking about?”

“Juniper wine,” Hercules blurted out, his excitement growing as he became convinced he was on to something. “Ennis apparently made Dionysus proud. And he was smashed on the stuff the day he went into the forest.”

“So, what? This fog doesn’t like alcohol?”

“That, or the juniper... it doesn’t matter,” the demigod continued. “This is where it’s vulnerable, and this is how we can beat it.”

“How are you going to beat it?” Hades demanded. “Maybe it’s vulnerable to wine, but that doesn’t do much good if it rejected the drunk.”

“We can use poison,” Hercules argued. “Something that has no smell or taste. Maybe we can trick this fog into attacking someone...” He trailed off, his newfound elation sagging as the implications of his plan dawned on him. “Although, the fog won’t take me.”

“And a mortal without divine blood would fall victim to the poison as well,” the god filled in.

Hercules swallowed hard, his gaze drifting to the dark woods as he considered the choice before him. Was it worth the risk to his own life in order to save his friends and a bunch of innocent kids with their whole lives ahead of them? Not much of a choice at all, really. The demigod let out a long breath, and turned to face his uncle.

“Hades, I’m going to need your help.”

Hades watched as his nephew came striding toward him, his shoulders squared resolutely and no sign of hesitation or reservation at all in his manner. Shaking his head slightly, the god rose to meet him, knowing he would probably have to answer to Zeus for what he was about to do.

“I’m ready,” the demigod announced calmly, his blue eyes sad but accepting.

“You do have an antidote for that, don’t you?” Hades questioned, nodding toward the small vial that was gripped tightly in his nephew’s hand. Hercules didn’t reply and looked away from his uncle’s stern glare, which was all the answer he needed. “Then how do you expect to...”

“There isn’t an antidote,” the demigod told him, meeting his eyes with a sigh. “But this is the only way. I only have one shot at this, and I have to use something that the fog isn’t going to detect.” He sighed again, looking down at the small vial in his hand. “This is slower acting, so I have a better chance of the fog taking me before... And it’s supposed to be odorless and tasteless, so hopefully it won’t notice anything is wrong until it’s too late.”

“I don’t like this,” the god of the underworld protested. “The chances of this working are slim at best.”

“Well, if you have a better idea I’d love to hear it,” Hercules retorted hotly. “Can we just do this, please?” When Hades hesitated, the demigod turned on him with flashing blue eyes. “You promised me that you’d help!”

“You want to kill yourself, fine,” the god said tightly. “Just remember there’s no turning back. Don’t come crying to me if you change your mind.” While he never really held mortal life in high regard, seeing his job as more clerical than anything else, Hades did have some compassion for the poor souls that entered his domain and sympathy for a life taken in vain. And any ramifications Zeus might decree for his role in this debacle aside, Hades did genuinely like his nephew and he was indebted to him for helping him with Persephone. He was loathe to do this task, but he had promised to help and he figured it was better he do it than Ares or some other god who would make full use of the opportunity. Reaching out a hand, Hades clamped it firmly on his nephew’s shoulder and began to draw his divinity away.

Hercules fell to his knees, crying out as the pain racked violently through his body. He contorted and spasmed as the immortal part of him was severed from his being and brutally ripped from him, but fortunately the procedure only took a moment. Collapsing on the ground, he lay there panting as he tried to come to grips with the sensation of being mortal. When he had caught his breath, Hades took his arm and helped him up.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?”’

“I’m sure,” Hercules said softly, but with determination. Of course, he didn’t want to die. But he also didn’t want to live with the pain of having lost his two closest friends. How could he go on without Iolaus, who was so much more to him than a partner? And his life seemed a small sacrifice in order to save a dozen children. Besides, minuscule as it might have been, there was a chance that he would survive. If nothing else throughout his life, he had learned to never give up hope. Taking a deep breath and hoping that his friends would forgive him, he removed the cork from the vial and quickly threw back the odorless potion. He was half expecting it to be bitter, but he found it really was tasteless, almost like swallowing water. Recorking the vial, he tossed it to his uncle as he turned and began walking toward the dark woods.

“Hercules.”

He turned to see Hades watching him with an almost gentle expression.

“Do you want me to go in with you?”

Hercules smiled, appreciating the offer that he hadn’t expected. And while it would have made his burden much easier to bear, not having to go alone, he shook his head, declining the company.

“Thank you, Hades,” he said sincerely. “But I have to do this on my own.” He grinned sadly, patting a hand against his empty money pouch hanging from his belt. “But maybe you could talk to Charon for me? Get him to waive the fee if I turn up down there?”

“Consider it done.” The god raised a hand in farewell. “And I’ll see you safely to the Other Side.”

Hercules waved back and then turned and continued on his journey as his uncle disappeared. He entered the silent, black forest, stumbling slightly in the dark and shivering as the cold air assaulted his newly mortal body. Although he knew that activity would accelerate the poison, Hercules kept walking, wanting to get far enough into the forest to make sure the fog knew he was there. He needn’t have worried, for it wasn’t long before the heavy mist began to surround him. His gut was starting to rebel against the poison, clenching into a painful knot, but Hercules ignored it, standing tall and proud in an effort to give the appearance that everything was fine. The fog grew thicker, swirling around him and clinging to his skin. Automatically, he tried to brush it away, but the vapor quickly became tangible, wrapping around him until he was shrouded in a solid fog. A small moan escaped his throat as the poison began burning through his body, and it was the last sound Hercules made. His vision cleared as the fog began to dissipate, but he was left completely immobile. But whether the paralysis was from the poison or the fog, he couldn’t tell. He could only hope it was the later, and before everything went dark he prayed that the fiery agony of the poison coursing through him was likewise taking it’s toll on the fog. And that it would be enough to stop it for good.

Jason groaned softly, reaching up a hand to his head. He felt disoriented and groggy, and it took him a moment to realize he was again capable of movement. Pulling himself up into a sitting position, he looked around the dark woods, trying to remember where he was before the events of the past week all came flooding back to him. Shaking his head helped to clear it, and as he glanced around again he spied a shape sprawled on the ground a few paces away. The Argonaut crawled over to the limp body, easing him onto his back and patting his face lightly.

“Iolaus, wake up.”

“Wha..?” The hunter opened his eyes, looking dazedly up at his old friend. “Jason? What’s going on? Where are we?”

“Allegenae,” the Argonaut replied, helping him to sit up. “Hercules and I came here looking for you, and then I got caught up in that... fog.”

“I remember that,” Iolaus grimaced, thinking back to the agony of watching his friends searching tirelessly for him, walking past him without ever seeing him and how it tortured him not being able to call out a warning. He pushed the blond curls back from his face and tried to see his friend through the darkness. “Are you all right?”

“I think so,” Jason told him. “I just feel like I’ve spent the night with a cask of Corinth’s finest.”

“I know what you mean,” the hunter agreed, feeling rather hung over himself. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Together, the two men managed to get to their feet, steadying each other against the weakness and dizziness. But as they started walking, they found that those feelings were quickly fading and that their strength was returning rapidly. Before they had gone far, the sounds of voices captured their attention. Upon investigation, they found the group of missing children, all shaken but unharmed. The kids all became comforted at the presence of the two warriors, and they calmed down and let the men herd them together.

“What happened?” Kayla asked, clinging tightly to Iolaus’ hand as he began to lead the group out of the forest. “How did we all get released?”

The hunter glanced over at Jason, and the two men exchanged knowing grins.

“Hercules,” they answered in unison, knowing that the demigod had to have secured them their newfound freedom.

“I wonder where he is, though,” Iolaus murmured thoughtfully, finding it hard to believe his friend wasn’t around to welcome them back.

“I don’t know,” the Argonaut shrugged. He also found it a little odd, but first things first. “Let’s just get these kids back home, and then we’ll take it from there.”

The hunter nodded, but a bad feeling began to well up inside of him. Outwardly, he appeared carefree and unconcerned as he laughed and joked with the children in an effort to reassure them, but inside a knot of anxiety began to take hold. He could only hope that his partner hadn’t done anything drastic in order to rescue them.

They had almost reached the perimeter of the woods when Iolaus suddenly came to a halt.

“What is it?” Jason asked.

“I thought I heard something,” the hunter replied, holding up a hand for silence. He glanced around the dark forest as the Argonaut drew his sword and the kids all went rigidly silent with fear. Taking a few steps, Iolaus moved slowly into the trees, being drawn by something almost against his will. And then he saw the large form lying motionless on the ground. He was beside his partner in an instant, yelling for Jason to join him.

“I can hardly feel a pulse,” the Argonaut whispered. “Is he breathing?”

“No... Yes,” Iolaus whispered back. “Barely.” He placed a hand on his friend’s forehead, feeling the clammy skin beneath his fingers. “Gods, Herc, what have you done?”

Jason quickly checked his friend as best he could in the dark. But although he could find no visible wounds or injuries, it was clear that Hercules was fading fast.

“Iolaus,” he murmured, his voice thick with sorrow. “I think he’s dying.”

“That tends to happen when mortals ingest deadly poisons.”

The two warriors looked up sharply, squinting against the bright light that pierced the darkness as Hades appeared before them. Instantly the god found himself the victim of twin glares as the men moved protectively closer around their fallen friend. He bit back a sigh at the instinctive show of suspicion, futile as it was. Maybe Ares found that trait admirable, standing and fighting even when you didn’t stand a chance. But to the god of the underworld, it was merely tiresome.

“Did you do this?” Iolaus demanded tightly.

“I took his divinity, at his request,” Hades replied stonily, not liking the accusation in the mortal’s tone. “He did the rest himself.”

“Which was what, exactly?” Jason inquired. His years as king had taught him how to remain unflappable in the most bizarre circumstances, so he did not seem to be phased by the appearance of the god of the Other Side. Besides, the impending death of his oldest friend left him little room to be impressed. “You said something about poison?”

“Hercules believed it was the only way to free you,” Hades explained. “After I made him mortal, he poisoned himself, hoping that it would in turn poison the fog and cause it to turn all of you loose. I had my doubts, but it looks like he was right.”

“How could you let him do that?” Iolaus shouted, tears of anger stinging his eyes as he realized his partner had willingly accepted death so that they could live.

“It was his decision,” the god insisted in annoyance. “I couldn’t have stopped him even if I wanted to.”

“But you can help him now, right?” Jason asked hopefully. Why else would the god be there?

“I cannot heal him,” Hades told them. “The best I can offer is to restore his divinity.”

“Do it,” Iolaus commanded forcefully.

“That may not be enough to save his life.”

“Do it,” the hunter repeated, glaring daggers at the god.

Hades knelt down beside his nephew, touching him on the shoulder and returning the immortal part of him that he had so recently taken away. Hercules was briefly illuminated with a soft glow, but when the process was done he was still unconscious.

“I’ve done all I can,” Hades announced as he rose. “If he doesn’t make it, it will please you to know he’ll have an honored place in the Elysian Fields with his family.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Iolaus muttered sarcastically as he checked his friend.

Jason was slightly more grateful, nodding respectfully at the god as he vanished. Then he crouched down beside his fallen friend, reaching out to clasp the hunter’s shoulder.

“Did it help?”

“His pulse is a little bit stronger and he seems to be breathing a little better,” Iolaus replied. “But he’s still in rough shape. We need to get him back to the village.”

“You stay here with him. I’ll take the kids and get some men to come back with me and help,” the Argonaut decided.

“Hurry,” the hunter murmured as he made himself comfortable on the ground and lifted his friend’s head up, cushioning it in his lap.

Jason nodded and quickly rounded up the stunned kids who had gone into shock anew when Hades had appeared in their midst. He ushered them out of the woods, urging them to move faster as he escorted them back to the village where he could recruit help.

Iolaus sighed as he was left alone with his partner. The evil presence of the forest was gone, leaving behind a light breeze and a feeling of peace. But the hunter found no calm in the quiet night, feeling only a frantic worry for his friend. He stroked Hercules’ hair gently as he leaned back against the tree he was resting against.

“You’d better make it through this, Herc,” he threatened softly, wiping the back of his hand over his eyes. “And if you do, I think I’m going to kill you.”

“Iolaus.”

The hunter looked up sharply, not even aware that the Argonaut had entered the room.

“Hey, Jase.”

“Why don’t you go out and get some air? Maybe get yourself something to eat?”

“I’m fine,” Iolaus said woodenly, focusing his attention back on his partner. Jason sighed and moved to the other side of the bed, easing himself down into the empty chair across from his friend.

“At least try and get some rest,” he chided. “You haven’t slept in three days.”

“I’m fine,” the hunter repeated wearily, but there was no conviction behind his words. Turning away from his friend’s penetrating gaze, he occupied himself with wringing a cloth out in the basin of water on the table next to the bed and wiping his partner’s face. He couldn’t even explain it to himself, much less to Jason, but he couldn’t help feeling that as long as he was there, he could stop Hercules from dying. Like he was keeping his friend alive by willing him to live, and he was terrified that if he stepped out of the room, even for a moment, the brother of his heart would slip away from him.

Jason studied the pallored face of the demigod, his heart breaking at the picture of suffering it portrayed. Hercules had been fitfully thrashing in restless sleep, moaning softly, his limbs twitching and his face periodically contorting. He was obviously in a great deal of pain, and the few times he’d managed to open his blue eyes, he hadn’t seemed to recognize anything or anyone around him. The Argonaut’s gaze drifted up to the man who’d been caring for him so diligently, and the palpable suffering in his face was no less heart breaking. Iolaus had devoted himself to his friend’s care, maintaining a relentless vigil by his side. Jason had expected nothing less, but he knew that it couldn’t continue for much longer. He sighed again, wondering if Iolaus would be able to hold it together if things took a turn for the worse.

“He doesn’t appear to be getting any better,” Jason pointed out quietly.

“He’s not getting any worse,” Iolaus argued, adjusting the blankets covering his friend. He looked up, catching his friend’s gaze and shook his head. “Don’t worry, Jase. I’m not losing myself in denial. Believe me, he’ll be ok.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because he survived one of Hephestus’ arrows. He can make it through this.”

“I do believe you,” the Argonaut assured him, reaching across the bed and placing a hand on his arm. “And I understand your need to see him through this. But listen to me, Iolaus. You have to get some sleep. Stay here if you want to, but you need to rest. I’ll be right here, and I promise I’ll wake you if there’s the slightest change.”

The hunter hesitated, glancing back down at his partner. But he could not deny he was exhausted, so he nodded slightly in agreement. He picked up Hercules’ hand, squeezing it gently between his own before setting it back down on the bed. Then he passed the basin of water across the bed to Jason and curled up as comfortably as he could in the chair he refused to vacate.

‘Hang in there, Herc,’ he thought to himself as he closed his eyes. ‘I’m still here with you. Don’t give up yet, buddy.”

Iolaus stifled a yawn and got to his feet, stretching his aching limbs in an attempt to get the blood flowing again. He was beyond tired, but every time he managed to doze off, his sleep was short lived by the intrusion of nightmares and feelings that Hercules needed him. He’d no more drop off when he’d suddenly jerk awake, certain that his partner had called out to him. Jason had finally given up nagging him and had fallen asleep himself, snoring softly in the chair across from him. But the hunter knew he wouldn’t be able to rest until he was sure his partner was all right, no matter how long it took.

Hopefully, that wouldn’t be much longer. Hercules had settled down considerably in the last few hours, easing into a more natural, peaceful sleep. His heartbeat had grown a little stronger and his breathing had become deep and regular. He was still feverish and a bit restless, but overall it seemed the pain that had been consuming him for days had begun to recede and the hunter grew even more convinced that his friend was getting better.

Going over to the window, Iolaus pushed the shutters open, taking a few deep breaths of the cool night air. It helped to revive him, and he closed the window and returned to his seat next to the bed, eyeing the tray of bread and fruit that Kayla had left for him. Just as he had devoted himself to his partner, she had devoted herself to the handsome warrior who had saved her. Kayla had spent the last few days haunting the doorway of the room in her home where they’d taken the demigod, hovering in readiness to procure whatever the hunter needed. It was always something for Hercules, but she didn’t care, scurrying off to provide whatever he asked for and taking her own initiative to bring him a variety of food and drink. Iolaus’ concerns hadn’t been on himself, but he’d eaten enough to be polite and make the young girl happy. But now he felt his stomach growl and he reached for the tray, glancing at his friend as he did so. Immediately all thoughts of food fled his mind as he saw those clear blue eyes looking up at him.

“Hey,” he whispered, bending down closer to the demigod. “Welcome back.” Iolaus slipped his hand behind his friend’s head, raising him up slightly and placing a mug of water at his lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Like something a hydra chewed up and spit out,” Hercules murmured weakly after he had taken a few sips to moisten his throat.

“You had me scared there for awhile,” Iolaus told him, easing him back down against the pillow.

“I’ll be fine,” the demigod assured him.

“I know.” The hunter grinned at him wolfishly as he squeezed his shoulder in a tight grip to emphasize his point. “But if you EVER do anything this stupid again...”

“Iolaus,” Hercules interrupted, reaching up with the intent of shoving his partner away but instead covering his hand with his own. “I’m tired. Can we maybe save the lecture for later?”

“Ok, but don’t think you’re getting out of it.” Iolaus smiled at him fondly before glancing over at the slumbering Argonaut. “I’ll let you go back to sleep in a minute, but let me just wake up Jason first.”

He moved around the bed to stand in front of the chair, shaking his friend slightly and calling his name.

“What is it?” Jason demanded, immediately alert and fearing the worst. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Iolaus told him with a giant grin, stepping out of the way so that he could see the demigod. “Somebody just wants to say hello.”

It took a few days, but Hercules recovered well from the poison, and when his strength had returned the three warriors announced it was time to leave Allegenae. Once it was decided that they would depart the following morning, they chose to spend the afternoon walking through the woods in order to make their separate peace with all that had transpired there.

“I tried to tell them a forest couldn’t be evil,” the hunter declared.

“You’d never guess that this was the same place,” Jason agreed as they strolled through the woods. Once the insidious presence had left, the forest had become just like any other forest and the birds and animals and insects had returned almost immediately.

“You took a big chance, Hercules,” Iolaus said softly, for it still scared him to think how close his best friend had come to death.

“I know,” the demigod replied, favoring his companions with an indulgent grin. “But I still believe it was worth the risk.”

“Maybe for you,” the hunter muttered. Hercules had initially been left weak and drained after his battle with the poison, but his godly blood had helped accelerate his healing time. He was back to his usual indestructible self, and although Iolaus was still unsettled by the sacrifice the demigod had been willing to make on their behalf, everything had turned out fine so he resolved to try and put it behind them and move on.

“Do you suppose it’s really dead?” Jason wondered.

“I think so,” Hercules answered, gazing off into the distance. “It’s definitely gone from this place, although I suppose it still could be around. Somewhere out there.”

“Well, killer fogs aside, this forest still gives me the creeps,” Iolaus confessed, the memories of his and his friends’ ordeals still a little too raw. “I vote we get out of here. And next time I want to skip a week of peace talks, I hope one of you will talk me out of it.”

“Yeah, like I’ve ever been able to talk you out of anything,” the demigod scoffed.

“Now, Hercules,” Jason interjected, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Don’t misunderestimate yourself.”

A crowd of villagers gathered at dawn to see the three heroes off. Most of the town turned up, offering gifts of food and supplies for the road and wishing them well on their journey.

“I hope you won’t hold what happened here against us,” the magistrate said to them. His tone was clinical, but the three men had been in the town long enough to realize it was about as sentimental as he ever got and they didn’t take it personally. “We would all be honored if you would come back and visit someday. Maybe on the next harvest moon?”

“I’m assuming you won’t be holding the traditional feast next year,” Hercules spoke up.

“The feast is still on,” Arsen told them. “But we’re going to start a new tradition in Allegenae. From now on, the harvest moon will be a celebration of Iolaus.”

“Me?” the hunter clarified, not sure he’d heard right. “I didn’t do anything. Hercules is the one...”

“If it wasn’t for you,” Cynara interrupted. “We never would have seen the end of these dark times. You stopped the sacrifice of our children, and more than that, you made us believe in ourselves once again. We owe you quite a debt, Iolaus, and we plan on honoring that debt every year.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Iolaus murmured, touched and embarrassed.

“Say you’ll be here next year,” Kayla begged. “We can’t have the harvest moon feast without our guest of honor.”

“I’ll be here,” the hunter promised, hugging the girl tightly. When he released her, Cynara moved in and embraced him, too.

“I promise you this, Iolaus,” she whispered in his ear. “The future generations of Allegenae are never going to forget why they’re celebrating THIS tradition.”

The hunter hugged her back, too choked up to say more than goodbye. And once all the farewells were said all around, the three warriors took their leave of the village and set off down the road that would lead them out of the mountains.

“Well, now what?” Jason asked.

“We could take a few days and go fishing,” Hercules suggested, knowing that they should take advantage of their down time before the next crisis manifested.

“No thank you,” Iolaus said firmly, surprising both his companions. “I’ve had enough of forests and fog to last me for awhile. I just want to find a warm inn with cold ale and forget this whole mess ever happened. You guys go ahead and you can pick me up on the way back.”

“You have to come with us,” the Argonaut teased with a smile. “You know that trees company.”

“That’s right,” the demigod added, joining the game. “It just wooden be the same without you.”

“This is not funny,” the hunter insisted, trying to hold back a grin.

“But if the fish aren’t biting, we’ll need you to catch some rabbits forest,” Jason continued.

“I mean it,” Iolaus threatened, stopping in his tracks and putting his hands on his hips.

“Come on,” Hercules wheedled over his shoulder as he kept walking. “Don’t let a bad experience cloud your judgement.”

The hunter couldn’t keep a straight face any longer, and with a giggle he started trotting to catch up with his friends.

“All right,” he agreed with a martyred sigh. “Fishing it is.” His grin got larger as he looped an arm around each of his companions. “After all, I know how much you guys would mist me.”

Hades smiled slightly as he watched his nephew and his friends through his scrying mirror. The affectionate camaraderie they had shared as boys was still present, and stronger than ever as they laughed and teased their way down the road, anticipating a relaxing few days of peaceful fishing. Little did they know that danger awaited them in the murky depths of the lake. The kind of danger with big teeth and an even bigger appetite.

Turning away from the mirror, the god of the underworld decided to call in a favor Posiedon owed him and ask him to find another home for his beast. After what Hercules and his friends had just been through, they deserved a quiet break. And besides, Hades grinned to himself, Demeter had finally left that morning. He was eagerly looking forward to a night with Persephone, and keeping his nephew and his mortal companions out of trouble was the only way to ensure he got it. In every sense of the word....

Finis

Disclaimer: No virgins were sacrificed to parasitic fogs during the writing of this story.

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