Heaven Must be Missing an Angel
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Say something, Herc …
Iolaus didn't like the way the son of
Zeus was looking at him; a tight, suspicious look, backed with undeniable
anger. Had he done something wrong? What was it that had flashed across his
partner's face, just after the water elemental had collapsed? Hate? Horror?
Or sheer terror?
He'd never seen anything like that in Hercules' eyes before. And certainly
never aimed at him.
It had all seemed so obvious a moment ago. He'd found his way out of the stables, quickly located the route to the main gate and finally managed to bound up the steps to the castle keep - once he'd danced his way around all the frightened retainers and grim faced, anxious guards gathered in the courtyard, that was. The presence of that wary, muttering crowd had suggested that there was something going on - and when he'd arrived in the atrium, there had been the gloopy, insubstantial monster busy squeezing the life out of his best friend. His charge forward had been instinctive - and somehow the sword of the Aeon had just been there, nestled in his hands like an extension of his soul.
Which it was, in some ways - although he really didn't like to think of it that way.
Consternation had driven him forward; it had been abundantly clear that Hercules was in trouble, and losing ground every second. Iolaus hadn't really stopped to think about it. He'd hastily leapt the thrashing tail, painted the blade with a moment of flame and - praying all the while that he wasn't too late - he'd determinedly lopped off the nearest of the monster's heads.
He'd expected the sword to do damage, but he'd not expected the outcome to be quite so spectacular. Cold water had swamped him like a wave - and after it, there'd been that look, that moment of bemused recognition, which had swept through his soul with equal chill. Now Hercules was staring at him, his eyes alight with fury and his expression cut from carved stone.
Herc?
Iolaus' anxious grin slowly collapsed, leaving nothing but the anxiety written on his face. He hadn't really expected any thanks - not given the current tension in their relationship - but that look - He felt as if the man had plunged a dagger deep into his heart.
No - worse than that. With the dagger, the pain had eventually gone away …
A grinding, protesting noise caught both their attentions and they hastily leapt apart as the statue's sword sliced down and shattered the coloured tiles where Hercules had been standing. The hunter's reaction was automatic, a response born from long years of combat and combat training. He had a sword, and he was under attack. As the statue lifted its weapon, he swung in to meet it - and the length of pitted bronze clattered away, sliced cleanly in two. Hercules jerked his head to follow the ringing tumble of the blade as if fell - and then looked back, fixing his eyes on the statue and the menace it represented.
"Something else you didn't tell me?" he demanded tightly, breaking his concentration just long enough to throw a sideways glance at the gleaming blade in his partner's hands. Iolaus looked down at the weapon and heaved an unhappy sigh.
So that's what this is about …
"Ah - " he responded uncomfortably, backing off a little as the stone giant swung in his direction, "I said there was some stuff …"
Yeah, right, Iolaus. Just stuff.
Like walking around with a sword forged in heaven tucked in-between your shoulder
blades. Like being able to heal those aching ribs he's nursing right now.
Like - like being able to eat poisoned asp stew and walking away with nothing
but a stomach ache.
Like pissing pure water and remembering what it was like in the Reverie …
When this business was all over, they were going to have to have a long talk.
He just had to hope that Hercules would still be willing to listen when they did.
"Stuff, huh?" The words sounded a little irked. They also drew the attention of the statue, who swung back towards the speaker. Having two opponents was clearly confusing it.
"Yeah," Iolaus acknowledged, forcing the word past the lump in his throat. His lips quirked, looking for the right words to say and finding none of them. "Stuff. Ah - this is strictly for emergencies only …" He swung the sword up as he spoke, thrusting it back into its hiding place with something almost akin to embarrassment. The brief lift that drawing it had brought to his spirits evaporated instantly. He felt like he should've never drawn it in the first place. The two of them had fought - hundreds - of monsters in the past and never needed magical weapons to defeat them. Most of the time they'd never needed weapons. Period.
But he was in trouble …
He didn't have time to focus on that thought; the statue - drawn by the movement as well as his words, had stomped in his direction and was busy taking a swing at him. He ducked the first whistle of stone, which raked through the air right where his head had just been, then dived forward, barely escaping the sweep of the thing's other arm. It wasn't very fast, but it made up for that in height and reach.
He tucked his roll into a controlled somersault, bounced back to his feet and immediately had to throw himself sideways as the sculptured arm slammed down with deadly intent. The blow landed on equally ornate stone - and cracked the already damaged fountain bowl wide open. "Hey," he heard Hercules growl, a sound which uncomfortably echoed the voice of his brother Ares in a bad mood. "You break it - you pay for it."
Iolaus picked himself up in time to witness a classic example of just why people called his partner the strongest man in Greece. The carved head had turned to track the voice, but the body beneath it had no time to react as Hercules strode forward, seized it round the waist with both hands and lifted. Marble feet flailed as the son of Zeus raised the statue high above his head, spun on his heel - and then threw it, hard, into the second fountain. Stone hit stone with a deafening crash; carved limbs tangled with carved stallions, and the whole thing collapsed in on itself.
The head of the statue - the sculptured features of some notable general or other - flew out of the debris, hit the tiled floor with a sickening thud, and then rolled to a halt at Hercules' feet.
"Well, that's a bust," he declared with grim satisfaction. "So much for the welcoming committee."
"Herc - " Iolaus wasn't sure if drawing attention to himself was entirely a good idea right then, but his message was too urgent. "The kids - they - "
"I know." The interruption was brusque. "I heard. Let's go see the King."
{Be wary, Brennus.} The voice was soft, but the sound of it echoed around
the cavern as the foremost amongst Agiori's councilors came into view. Brennus
was hugging a pair of struggling, squirming children to his breast, an arm
around each slender waist and a look of hungry triumph on his face.
"Be wary of what, Carnivean?" he demanded, striding forward and depositing his burden onto the low stone altar that sat at the widest end of the jutting rock promontory. The boy made an attempt to escape, and the man grabbed his wrist and slapped him, hard. "Sit still, Cystus. Don't make this difficult."
Cystus sat back down and stared at him, his eyes wide with bewilderment and fear. Elentra was also staring - but not at the impatient councilor. Her eyes were fixed on the ornate mirror and the drifting, half formed shape which filled it.
{Of things you do not understand, my friend.}
"Hah," Brennus snorted, pulling a sash from under his robe and using it to tie the children's hands together. "You fret too much. Everything is proceeding just as we planned. Cephren is nothing but a weak fool. He was easy to sway in the end. And as for Hercules - the trap is baited, and he'll walk into it like a lamb coming to the slaughter. His slaughter. Did you slow him down, as I asked?"
{I did.} The figure in the mirror loomed closer, taking more definite shape yet revealing nothing of what that shape might be. {He struggles to comprehend our power. The more he fights its strength, the more it draws on his own.}
Brennus looked up from securing his captives and smiled with knowing satisfaction. "Perfect," he purred. "And once he gets here - well, once in the web, the fly's fate is sealed." His expression dropped into one of brief irritation. "And speaking of flies …"
{I thought to cage him for you - but he found another route out of my puzzle. Something intervened.}
"Something?" Brennus frowned, leaving the now helpless children to stride the rest of the way down the jutting rock. He stared thoughtfully into the mirror, which reflected back a distorted version of his image. Fingers of smoke trailed though the darkness of the eye patch as Carnivean flowed in to meet his summoner's gaze. "Are you saying he's still with the son of Zeus? No matter," came the instant decision. "He can die here just as easily as any other fate I might have planned for him."
{Be wary,} the dark voice insisted with a grim sounding hiss. The two children huddled together on the cold stone shivered at the sound of it. {There is a - presence, somewhere close by. I felt it speak. It used the forbidden tongue. The sound of it shattered my game and let your fly escape the snare. And just now - if we are known, Brennus, then all our planning may come to nothing. If you would have your power, you must seize it soon.}
"I will," the man promised, glancing back at the wide eyed youngsters. "Once Hercules gets here, we will begin. And then I will have what I want - and together we will have the strength to defy even the gods. Don't worry, Carnivean. You'll feed soon enough.
"Besides," he went on to say with a confident smile, "you know that the remnant of Poseidon's power in this place cloaks your presence here. You've nothing to be afraid of."
{True,} Carnivean reacted, his shape billowing like disturbed smoke. {We are cloaked in shadows and darkness. Nothing can touch us down here - not in a place where the Light never comes.}
Brennus' smile widened. "Well, that's
not about to change," he laughed. "Don't worry. That 'presence'
you felt? Whatever it was, it's hardly likely to turn up here."
"Don't dawdle, Iolaus. We don't have time to admire the architecture."
I know, I know … Iolaus bit back the retort that rose to mind and determinedly went on examining the wall that ran behind the Throne. There was supposed to be some kind of mechanism somewhere. Something that opened a hidden door and allowed entrance to the secret tunnels beneath the castle.
Every castle had secret tunnels. But usually the King knew how to get into them …
So why do I get this job?
He knew why - and knowing it offered a little sliver of reassurance to the concerns that currently gnawed at his heart. He'd always been the best tracker in their partnership; best tracker, best hunter - and better at handling the more delicate puzzles that had occasionally challenged their joint ingenuity. The fact that Hercules had remembered that - had remembered that he had a partner, rather than just charging ahead without considering his options - had offered up a little spark of hope to the hunter's battered soul.
"You're sure this is the quickest way to reach the old temple?" Hercules was still questioning the King, although it was pretty obvious that the old man was too distraught to offer much in the way of sensible replies. They'd raced into the Throne room, only to find the place deserted; they'd finally located King Cephren poised on the outer balcony, getting ready to throw himself into the sea, far below.
He hadn't struggled when Hercules had lifted him down and carried him back to the Throne. All he'd done was weep, silently, the tears coursing down his wrinkled cheeks. Patient, or rather in Hercules' case impatient, questioning had eventually revealed the information they so desperately needed to find.
The council had voted - reluctantly - to revive the old custom and offer the cities traditional appeasement to the gods. The sacrifice of innocent, noble born blood. Which, in Agiori's case, consisted solely of Cystus and his sister, the last of the royal line. Brennus, it seemed had offered an impassioned speech, saying how he would have offered his own child in their place, had the boy not already been taken from him. It had swayed the last of the council's vote - and the King, his heart breaking, had ratified the command, dispatching his 'faithful' councilor to perform the terrible deed. He'd gone to collect the children, undoubtedly taking the more usual - and much longer route - down to the old temple. Cephren had waved vaguely at the back of the throne room when asked if there were another, quicker way.
So what's Brennus' angle on this?
Iolaus hadn't found the time - or the way - to voice his suspicions of the nobleman. Brennus was responsible; Iolaus had no more doubts on that score. But he couldn't figure the man's motive, and, until he could do so, he seriously doubted that anyone would listen to him. The evidence was circumstantial to say the least. The damage to the man's eye could be mere co-incidence. That he'd been on hand during the attack in the jail was just as inconclusive and the itch in the hunter's wings would be very hard to describe - especially given Hercules' current state of angry suspicion.
Guess he'll find out soon enough.
Provided, of course, that he could find the secret entrance …
"You should never have brought them home." Cephren's voice sounded tired. Defeated. Iolaus had nothing but sympathy for that. The man had been pushed into an impossible corner.
"They were being kidnapped," Hercules pointed out, his words tight as he bit back his growing temper. The hunter wasn't entirely sure where that had come from - although he suspected some of it might be because of him - but he knew exactly what was feeding it. The son of Zeus could not stand idle while an innocent child was in danger. Especially not when, somewhere under their feet, a madman was preparing to cold-bloodedly murder two of them.
I'm doing the best I can here!
He was checking all the obvious things. Floor tiles. Carved bits on pillars. Brackets for torches. Nothing had happened so far …
"They'd have been safe," Cephren sighed, almost as if he hadn't heard what Hercules had said. "They promised me they'd keep them safe …"
"They - " The son of Zeus had been pacing; back and forth in front of the throne. Now he swung round to stare at the King in astonishment. "You knew? You were the one that paid those pirates?"
Iolaus didn't need to see Cephren nod. His partner's reaction was enough to confirm the answer.
"Gods," Hercules exploded, throwing his arms wide as if appealing to his family - although his exclamation was a curse, and not a prayer. "Some days I can be so stupid!"
One of the carved seashells had moved under Iolaus' hand as he had hastily brushed over the pillar that supported it. He went back and took a closer look. Sure enough, there was a fine, hairline crack between it and the rest of the stone.
Gotcha!
He'd worry about his friend's angry self-assessment
later. Right now they had more important things to do. He gave the suspect
seashell a twist, and it turned, a little reluctantly, until it butted up
against a piece of stone seaweed. Something clicked. Somewhere else,
a counterweight shifted.
And a piece of wall directly behind the Throne began to creep open, dragging
itself across marbled tiles with a protesting, painful grind.
"Herc!" Iolaus had started towards the widening gap, but, halfway there, he zigged sideways and bounced up to snatch a torch from its holder on a nearby pillar. It looked dark behind the door, and something told him that - down there - they were going to need all the light they could get.
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'Heaven Must be Missing an Angel'- Chapter Seven. Disclaimer:This
story has been written for love rather than profit and is not intended to
violate any copyrights held by Universal, Pacific Rennaisance, or any other
holders of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys trademarks or copyrights.
© 2001. Written by Pythia. Reproduced by Penelope Hill