Hurry, she thought, and jumped again as the talons of the creature dug furrows in the stone, clawing for her blood.
Gabrielle grabbed at the young man again, digging her fingers into his shoulders. “We have to find a way to undo the spell!”
“Undo the beast,” he said, and stared at her with those blank eyes. “Undone. My father is undone, and he was so good . . .”
Gabrielle released him, her mind a solid whirl of terror and frustration. The guy was no longer part of this reality; the shock had undone him. What could they do?
Alesandra was still beside her, watching the battle with horrified eyes. Gabrielle stared at her, grasping for a solution—
Avernus!
It all clicked into place at once. Xena had known how to find the lake, but it had taken Alesandra’s gift to find the truth inside of the warrior—
“Alesandra! Touch him! Touch Bain! Find the spell!”
The child turned to her and her brown eyes flashed in understanding. She ran forward and snatched for Bain’s hand, grasping at the man’s cold fingers and closing her eyes.
Gabrielle turned, just in time to see Cerebrus reach out with one mighty claw—
—and rake down Xena’s arm, drawing blood.
Xena sprang back, but too late. Cerebrus’s ragged talons had found the bare flesh of her arm, digging through the skin.
She instantly dampened the pain—there was no time—and quickly cataloged the wound. Not deep, no scars, bearable—
Cerebrus howled in gleeful victory, its snouts quivering at the scent of fresh blood, and it lashed out again, eager to draw more.
“Not this time,” breathed Xena, and she ducked the giant claw, bent down—and delivered a powerful side-kick to its chest. A rib snapped.
Cerebrus screamed and backed away, whining. Xena touched her own wound, reaffirming to herself that it wasn’t too bad, and then crouched, ready for the next attack. She was running out of breath, and out of strength; she wouldn’t be able to hold the creature off for too much longer.
They had to find the spell soon, or the prophecy of darkness would be fulfilled.
Telius watched blankly as the little girl took his hand and closed her eyes. He wanted only to lie down somewhere and go to sleep, somewhere away from all this noise and these people he didn’t know—
His fingers tingled, and he felt a strange thing; memories flashed through his mind, so quickly that he only caught bits and pieces of the thoughts—spells, incantations, things that he’d read and forgotten . . .
Memories of his father, of lessons on sorcery. Of the need to be careful, ever so wary of magic and its consequences, to know without doubt the results of spells before practicing them.
Telius felt his eyes fill with tears. He had been so foolish! He had ignored a lifetime of teachings and tried to take the easy way, using a spell that he knew nothing about—
He blinked, suddenly aware of where he was and what was happening. He stared down at the child, and felt the great gift that she held, that she used now, searching for an answer to the horror that he had created.
Telius closed his eyes, grateful, and helped her look. A spell of reversal, he thought, hoping that it would give her something to work with.
Her fingers tightened against his, and he knew that she had heard him. Maybe she could find a solution in his tired mind, a ritual that would set right what he had done.
If she didn’t, they would all die, and the rest of humanity would pay for his mistake.
Cerebrus’s broken rib must have healed. Its whines had become growls again, and its heads ducked low, barking and hissing at Xena.
Xena backed away, heart hammering from exertion. The dog jumped, and Xena danced, whirling and spinning, darting away from the slashing jaws. Her dance was true, all of her instincts in full play, feinting left and right as the dog snapped and howled, torn pages of ancient books flying up around their legs.
Cerebrus suddenly seemed to grin, the look in its eyes somehow sly, cunningly calculating as it watched her. The dog spun and stepped into the huge, shadow-filled corridor that led out of the chamber, turning back to face her again with all of its terrible eyes. It barked, backing into the hallway, trying to get her to follow.
Xena instinctively took a step forward, ready to battle, and then stopped, and frowned. The realization hit her like a cold slap across the face—if she set foot in that passage, she would be lost. The gate was too near, and she would fall in to that oppressive darkness, never to step out again.
“Nice try,” she panted, and stood there, waiting. If the dog wanted to stand in the hall, let it—all the more time for the others to find the spell.
Cerebrus must have seen that she would not follow. It crouched and tensed, and with a killing roar, it sprang forward once again.
Alesandra opened her eyes. “I’ve got it!”
Bain nodded excitedly, letting go of her hand. Gabrielle had watched their silent search urgently, praying for them to hurry, turning often to look on in horror at the strange battle between Xena and the monstrous dog-thing.
“Where?”
Alesandra looked at her in fear. “There,” she said heavily, and pointed. “It’s big, leather-bound.”
Gabrielle’s heart sank. Alesandra was pointing at a scattered pile of books only a dozen paces away—and right in between Xena and the lunging beast.
Gabrielle took a deep breath and steeled herself, trying not to think of what she was about to do. If she thought about it, she wouldn’t be able to, couldn’t—
“Stay here,” she said, and without a backward glance, she crouched and ran, falling to her knees amid the scattered books.
“Gabrielle, no!”
Xena heard Alesandra’s cry, but didn’t dare turn away from the deadly Cerebrus. Again, it raised its gleaming talons and stabbed at her, howling. She jumped, let the claws rip through air—
—and suddenly Gabrielle was there, on the floor, scrabbling through the shredded books right in front of Cerebrus—
“Hey!” Xena shouted, and the dog looked up, away from Gabrielle—as Xena vaulted herself over her friend and crashed into the surprised creature, knocking it back.
The warrior, Xena, had exhibited bravery like none Telius had ever seen, leaping straight at the beast to protect the young woman—
“Here!” the blonde shouted, holding up an oversized book, bound in leather. She jumped to her feet and pulled back, aiming—
As she threw the book, Cerebrus lunged forward, the warrior clinging to its giant back, beating at one barking head with her bare fists. To no avail.
Even as the book flew through the air, the mighty dog swung one powerful neck from side to side, whacking the young blond woman’s head and driving her to the floor.
From where she didn’t rise again.
“No!”
Xena screamed as she saw Gabrielle go down, crumpling to the floor in a heap.
She jumped from the dog, scooped up Gabrielle, and was away in only a second. Gabrielle didn’t move in her arms.
Xena set her down quickly, away from the grinning Cerebrus, and felt her heart turn to ice and ashes, all at once. She saw her sword, gleaming from the floor, and scooped it up, her eyes blazing with a fury she had never felt in all her years as a fighter.
With a howl that surpassed the rage of the creature, she sprang forward, ready to kill.
Telius caught the book in a fumbling motion and turned to the girl. The child reached out and took the book from him, flipping through the pages rapidly.
“This one!”
She handed him the book, and Telius scanned it quickly—yes, he remembered this, a simple spell that reversed a spoken incantation—
He started to read, speaking rapidly. “All this that hath gone through, know these words to break the taken thrall—”
“Xena, no, you
can’t!”
Telius didn’t look up as the child cried out; whatever the child had seen, Telius knew that they were almost out of time.
He read faster, feeling the power of the spell fill him up.
Xena slashed at the monster, nothing held back. Nothing would satisfy her but to see it dead.
Gabrielle! Her mind cried out, and she let the pain guide her sword, driving Cerebrus back. The dog howled and snapped, but Xena felt no fear. She cut, sliced, drew blood from its throats, from its legs and heads.
It fell back farther, whining now, stumbling. Still she slashed, drawing new blood for each cut that healed. Alesandra shouted for her to stop, but the vision of Gabrielle’s crumpled body fed her rage, urging her on.
The man, Bain, was shouting, too, but his words made no sense to her. Nothing mattered; Gabrielle could be dead, and Cerebrus would pay for it.
Time had no meaning as she danced forward, her movements quick and sure. There was only her sword and her dance, and the imminent death of the thing in front of her. She blinked, and the dog had somehow been backed into the far corner of the room. It snarled at her, still whining, but Xena could see that it needed time now to heal itself; it would not attack.
She raised her sword, aiming for the dog’s foul black heart, ready to put an end to this monster that had hurt, maybe killed her dearest friend—
—and then she stopped, the sword quivering in her upraised hands. Gabrielle, her dearest friend . . .
Who had traveled with her to halt the prophecy.
Who had wanted nothing more than to keep the evils of Hades from being loosed.
Whose life didn’t deserve to be connected to the death of Cerebrus—and consequently, the freedom of Hades’s evil.
Xena lowered her weapon slowly, feeling the strange trance of her fury break and crumble. She backed away from the injured creature, watching as it licked its wounds with three tongues and tiredly got to its feet, growling with pain.
From behind her, she heard a sweet and beautiful sound that made her want to cry out in joy and relief.
“Xena? What happened?”
She turned, and saw a groggy Gabrielle sitting up, rubbing at her head. Xena’s heart suddenly seemed to beat again, as if it had gone still throughout her vicious battle—and she smiled, stepping toward her friend.
Gabrielle’s eyes widened. “Look out!”
Xena spun. As Cerebrus leapt for her with death in its eyes.
“Look out!”
Telius read the final words. “. . . and will be no more!”
He looked up, just in time to see the monster dog jump straight for the warrior, a lunge that would certainly kill her—
—and then, suddenly, there was no Cerebrus. No corridor.
Only a wall, etched with languages long dead, the last wisps of a strange, gray mist curling away at the corners. Only a flood of shredded books—and two women and a little girl, all laughing at once, running to one another and embracing.
It was over.
Chapter 20
As the moon rose high and full over the Castle Bain, they told their stories.
The four of them sat in the kitchen, the three travelers enjoying their first decent meal in a week. Gabrielle had gone out and fetched Argo, and Bain had been happy to tell them—over big glasses of fresh milk and, plates of cold roasted chicken—that he kept a good stock of horseshoes on hand. They could fit Argo in the morning, and he insisted that they allow him to restock their meager supplies, as well. Xena accepted, nodding her approval.
After Telius had told them his tale, Xena had come to see him as Alesandra had in her vision; truly, he had no evil in his heart. He was young, and had suffered the foolhardy confidence of too little experience—but she could see that he had learned his lesson, however brutal the experience had been.
Alesandra had taken to him immediately, perhaps because of his open acceptance of her gift. He looked at her with admiration, impressed by the depth of her powers, and Alesandra was obviously delighted with his open respect for her abilities. Xena could also see that Alesandra connected with him on another, deeper level—she had lost Otus and Telius had lost his own father, both recently. The child took his hand as he described the passing of Martus, and Xena saw how touched Telius was by the gesture.
Gabrielle was quite pleased with herself, and kept reaching up to touch the lump that had risen beneath her scalp where Cerebrus had whacked it; an admirable war wound, to say the least. The prophecy had been stopped, and she had played an important role, just as Alesandra had predicted. All of them had—without one another, they would have lost the war to Hades.
Telius had already apologized a dozen times, and now started to again.
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you all came; if I hadn’t been so stupid—”
Xena held up her bandaged arm. “Please. What matters is that you’ve seen your mistake.”
Telius nodded. “Perhaps I’ll try again—in twenty or thirty years, after I’ve studied a lot more.”
He turned to Alesandra and smiled at her. “Maybe you could come back sometime and learn with me. Your powers are great, and I could really benefit from someone who could tell me which spells might be harmful . . .”
Alesandra’s eyes shone. “Really?”
Telius nodded. “And I could teach you more about your gifts. There are so many books here on prophecy, I can’t even count them all.”
Xena and Gabrielle exchanged a glance, and Xena grinned. She didn’t need second sight to know that all of Alesandra’s vision was about to come true. The child would not be leaving the castle with them after all, but not for the reasons they had feared.
Alesandra had found a place that she could call home.
Xena slept late for a change, and awoke feeling refreshed. Her wounded arm was already itching beneath the bandages, a sure sign that the flesh was on the mend.
She walked out of the comfortable guest chamber she had stayed in and leaned around the open entryway of the room next door, smiling at the sound of Gabrielle’s light snore. She briefly considered waking her up with the promise of something disgusting for breakfast, but decided to let her sleep a little longer; she deserved it.
Xena wandered back down to the kitchen, marveling along the way at the design of the castle, and found Telius and Alesandra already laughing together over a morning meal.
“Xena! Telius has asked me if I want to stay here!”
Xena smiled. “Do you?”
The child searched Xena’s gaze with her own. “Is that okay? I mean, would you . . . mind?”
Xena shook her head. “I think that sounds wonderful. I’m very happy for you, for both of you.”
Alesandra jumped up and ran to her, hugging her around the waist. “And he says it’s okay if Binjer comes to live here, too!”
Xena cocked an eyebrow at Telius. “Really?”
Telius grinned. “Yes, and I know what I’m getting into. I remember him from when he came before, a long time ago.”
Xena smiled. “He’s hard to forget.”
Alesandra looked up her, her eyes bright with happiness, and Xena found herself surprised by the warmth of emotion she felt from the girl, and for her.
The warrior dropped to her knees and returned Alesandra’s embrace.
By noon, Argo was laden with several stuffed packs of supplies and treats, and sported a full new set of shoes. The four of them stood just outside the castle gate, saying their Goodbyes.
Alesandra hugged Gabrielle for the hundredth time, making her promise once again that she and Xena would visit soon.
“We will, really,” said Gabrielle, and smiled at Telius over Alesandra’s head. Telius grinned back, and Gabrielle found herself a little bit flustered at the look in his dark eyes and the beauty of his smile. It was obvious that she would be welcomed by both of the
m, for very different reasons.
Not too shabby, thought Gabrielle, and she smiled wider. She could do a whole lot worse, that was for sure. Of course, Xena needed her, for now; they had adventures to find, and battles to fight. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t take a vacation every now and then . . .
Xena mounted Argo, smiling to herself at the obvious glances being swapped back and forth between Telius and Gabrielle. She had the feeling that Gabrielle would be hinting about another trip to Avernus before too long . . .
Alesandra stepped back from Gabrielle, still holding her hands, and giggled, looking back over her shoulder at Telius, her honeyed eyes glowing.
“You’re right,” she whispered loudly, and both Gabrielle and Telius blushed, realizing that Alesandra had picked up a bit more than a simple hug. Suddenly they both developed an active interest in looking anywhere but at each other.
“The first thing you learn is tact,” said Telius good-naturedly, and put an arm around the giggling Alesandra.
Xena tactfully changed the subject herself. “We should reach Binjer in less than a week, so expect him in two—assuming that he doesn’t have too many belongings to pack.”
Alesandra nodded. “Two weeks, that’s about right, I told you he was going to move soon.”
“Thank you, Xena, Gabrielle,” said Telius, raising his hand in farewell. He’d never be able to repay them for all they had done, but raising Alesandra in a happy home might be a start. Already, he had come to care about the child, and knew that they could learn a lot from each other.
“I’ll never forget you,” said Alesandra, her voice a husky whisper. “You believed in me, and I love you, both of you . . .”
Gabrielle felt a rising lump in her throat and swallowed it down. “We love you, too,” she said, and Xena nodded.
“Be good,” the warrior added, and fixed Telius with a mock-stern gaze. “Both of you.”
Their gentle laughter ushered the travelers on their way, Gabrielle walking alongside Argo.
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