Pearl of Wisdom

Description: Athena asks for help to retrieve the Pearl Poseidon stole from her.

The sun had set hours before, the moon was full in a star filled sky. Iphicles was slumped in a chair before a fire inside of Alcmene’s old home...the flickering of the flames the only light that played across his face, the crackling of the wood the only sound in the night around him. His palace guard had bivouacked in the field next to the house and all but the silent sentries had fallen asleep some time ago. Iph couldn’t sleep...he wondered if he should go back to Hercules. He didn’t want to impose upon his brother’s grief, but he was certain that Iolaus had to have died from his injuries and he did not want to leave Hercules alone too long...he honestly did not know what Hercules might do. He growled in frustration, his heart aching with despair, as he contemplated what had happened to the two old friends over the past two weeks.

Hercules had been injured while he and Iolaus had been assisting villagers from Hellios to rescue their children from slavers. The resulting amnesia had been difficult for both of them... Hercules had felt lost, frustrated and frightened, but had come to trust Iolaus, regardless of not being able to remember the friendship they had shared for most of their lives. Iolaus had despaired of Hercules ever recovering his memory and was frightened by what this would mean, both for their future as a team, and for Hercules personally, who could no longer recognise who were friends...and who were enemies.

To give Hercules time to either recover or make up his mind about how he wanted to live his future...with or without Iolaus...Iolaus had left Herc in the safety of Iphicles’ palace in Corinth. Iolaus knew it was only a matter of time before either Ares or Hades sought satisfaction for having lost their chance to be King of the Gods when Iolaus brought the Rainbow Crystal, and Zeus, back to Olympus...it was better that Hercules be somewhere else, somewhere safe, when that confrontation occurred.

Iolaus had only been gone a matter of hours when Hercules had sensed that something had happened to his friend, that Iolaus needed him urgently. Iphicles had set out with his brother, escorted by his Palace Guard, to follow Iolaus...and was horrified by what they had found. Iolaus had been taken captive by a vengeful warlord, Xertes, and was on the point of death, his ribs and spine crushed, when they had found him. There was nothing anyone could do...it was only a matter of time. At Iolaus’ request, Iphicles had taken them to their old childhood fort...Iph wasn’t sure, but from the change in Hercules’ manner once they had arrived there, Iphicles was afraid that Herc had recovered his memory...only to suffer the full realization of what the loss of Iolaus meant to him. Iphicles had honoured Hercules’ request to be left alone with Iolaus. But, that had been hours ago....

Iphicles had been struggling with his own grief, believing that Iolaus had very little time left when Iph had left the two of them beside their old fort. He was angry that Iolaus had been so brutally abused by Xertes, that there was nothing anyone could do to save his life. Iolaus had come to be a good, valued friend and Iphicles despaired for his own loss. When he contemplated what that loss would mean to Hercules, he shuddered, unable to imagine how his brother would be able to carry on. Hercules had almost been destroyed by Iolaus’ death during the horror of Dahok and the two had only been reunited for a few short months...and now this. Iph did not know whether to rage at the fates, or cry for the heartbreak of it all.

Finally, he heard a step on the porch outside the door. He stood, and was moving to meet his brother, ready to provide solace and support when Hercules walked in...followed by Iolaus! Iphicles stopped, staggered by the sight of the blond warrior, who was obviously well, completely recovered. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if, in his own despair, he was only imagining what he would have given his crown to see...Iolaus alive and healthy once again. Hercules was smiling broadly as he put a strong, steadying hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, Iph...he’s really here...Iolaus is alive!”

Iolaus chuckled, “I can imagine this is something of a surprise...sorry to startle you.”

Iphicles could not blink back his tears as he reached for Iolaus and gathered him into a crushing hug. “By the gods,” he whispered, “I never thought I’d see you again.”

Iolaus hugged his friend tightly, then stepped away, looking up at Iphicles, “Thank you, Iphicles,” he responded softly...there were years when Iph would not have been so glad to see him and it was good to know that Iph valued their friendship as much as Iolaus did.

Iphicles brushed his eyes with the back of his hand, “What happened? How is this possible?” he wondered.

“It was Aphrodite,” Hercules explained. “She restored Iolaus as a belated...but very welcome...gift for having brought the Rainbow Crystal to Olympus.”

“Well, this deserves a celebration!” Iphicles exclaimed. One arm around Iolaus’ shoulders and another around Hercules, he drew them further into the house to the table. “Sit down,” he directed as he moved to pull a dusty amphora from a cupboard. “Some of mother’s favourite wine...well aged and perfect for this miraculous event!” He grabbed three goblets from a shelf and set everything down on the table, pouring the wine and handing it around. The three men touched their goblets together in a mutual toast and took a healthy swallow before they eased back in their chairs, relaxing in the soft light of the fire. Lost for words, all three sat grinning euphorically, comfortable together, grateful to be sharing this time.

Iphicles and his guard had left the next morning, to return to Corinth. Hercules and Iolaus had gone back to their old fort by the lake. They had spent the next several days camping out, fishing in the lake, hunting in the forest surrounding them. The two comrades were much in need of a little rest and recreation after the last harrowing two weeks. Iolaus had almost died...would have died if Aphrodite had not intervened. The entire episode had been terrifying for both friends...they needed time on their own, to celebrate not only their longstanding friendship, but to quietly enjoy the fact that they were still together, safe and alive.

They laughed and joked...and sat quietly basking in their friendship. By turns, they threw each other into the lake, wrestled and reminisced about the boys they had been, the dreams they had shared. Hercules cooked, Iolaus whistled and sang off key; Hercules listened with warm contentment as Iolaus babbled along about whatever skimmed across the surface of his mind. They slept without nightmares and drowsed in the sun during the day. They let the tensions of the past weeks go...they rejoiced in the present and had no fears for the future. The skies above them were clear, cloudless and bright. They had no way of knowing that, beyond the horizon to the northeast, a storm was building over Athens.

On the evening of the fourth day, as they lingered by the fire, Iolaus stretched and grinned across the flames at his friend.

“What?” Herc enquired.

Iolaus shook his head. “Nothing...just happy. You know, Herc, we should head out to see Jason and Lilith...when we left the last time, they were very worried about you.”

Herc nodded, “You’re right...when do you want to go?”

“Tomorrow?” Iolaus suggested. Herc couldn’t help but chuckle. As much as they had been enjoying their respite from action, Iolaus could only take quiet contentment for so long before he needed to be moving again.

“Alright...tomorrow it is,” agreed Hercules.

It took a day to travel across the hills to the Academy. When they ambled through the gates, Jason was crossing the yard, heading toward the staff messhall. A grin burst across his face as he hurried to greet his friends. “Hercules, Iolaus...I’m so glad to see you...I’ve been wondering how everything has been going....” As he hugged Hercules in welcome, and took in the happy expressions on both faces, he continued more softly, “You’re back, aren’t you, Hercules....”

Herc nodded as he slapped Jason on the back, “Yes, Jason...I’m back,” he sighed, “but, there were moments when I wondered if I would ever remember....You and Lilith were both very kind, very helpful the last time we were here. I’m grateful.”

Jason harrumphed, “No need for gratitude, Hercules...we’re friends...we were only sorry we couldn’t do more. Come with me...Lilith will be delighted to see the two of you.” Jason turned, an arm around both old friends, and drew them toward the mess. As they entered, he called out, “Lilith, come out and see who’s here!”

Lilith emerged from the kitchen, a smile lighting her face as she saw who Jason had brought in with him. She skipped across the room, throwing herself against each in turn, giving them a warm, heartfelt welcome. As she stepped back from Hercules, her hands still on his arms, she looked up into his eyes, the questioning look giving way to a grin as she hugged him again. “You remember!” she cheered, “I can see it in your eyes! Welcome back, Hercules!” Herc laughed as he hugged her back. “I’m glad to be back, Lilith! Thanks for your support last time...and the hope you gave me that all would turn out alright.”

Lilith’s eyes were sparkling as she looked from Hercules to Iolaus, glad to see them relaxed and happy, not haunted as they had been on their last visit. “Come in,” she said, “let me get us something to drink!”

They settled in the warm comfort of the wood and leather of the mess, and celebrated Herc’s return. Over the next few hours, as they shared dinner and more wine, Hercules and Iolaus caught them up on all that had occurred since they had last been there, only a little more than a week before. Jason and Lilith were quite visibly shook at what had happened to Iolaus...sickened by how close they had all come to losing him. But, Iolaus and Hercules soon had them laughing again as they related how Iolaus had speculated about how he might acquire more “get out of Elysium free” passes by doing favours for the gods.

“Now, now, Iolaus,” Jason growled playfully, “enough of that...you take too many chances as it is...death is becoming too much of a habit for you!”

Herc chuckled, “Thank you, Jason...I told him exactly the same thing!”

The old friends spent a joyful evening together, reminiscing and teasing, each very glad that they were all together again, with no tensions, no worries...nothing to occupy their minds or hearts but the pleasure of being together. It was a clear night over Cheiron’s old Academy...but, the lightning was flashing over Athens...and thunder warned of the storm about to break.

The storm had been building for some time, flaring up occasionally over the years, threatening to become fullblown...and, now, the confrontation was underway. Athena and Poseidon had long contested which of them had the greater right to claim the city as their own. Athens had become a great sea power, supported by Poseidon in victories against the Spartans and the Persians. Poseidon believed this made Athens his. However, the city had also become the centre of learning and philosophy, the place where the rights and freedoms of individuals were debated and secured, a place where reason and wisdom held sway...and this was Athena’s ground. Neither were willing to share...and the people of Athens had yet to make a firm choice.

Determined to move from the stalemate which had prevailed for more than a century, Poseidon had taken action, stealing from Athena her most cherished icon, the Pearl of Wisdom. He had secured it in a place where she could not go without moving the conflict between them from sporadic skirmishes to all out war. Athena did not want war...it would be fought over, around and in Athens. No one would win...everyone would lose. Poseidon gambled on her intelligent grasp of this reality and complacently waited for her to capitulate...to relinquish the prize of Athens to him in return for her treasure. He knew he would not have long to wait.

The next morning, after they had broken their fast, the four old comrades had gone to the exercise hall, to work with the cadets. The young warriors were overwhelmed by the opportunity of jousting with the legendary Hercules and his comrade, Iolaus. Spirits were high as sides were chosed and a mock battle broke out. More skilled, and experienced, the workout was strictly an exercise of playful fun for the heroes. The sides were evenly matched and, finally, laughter broke out as first, Iolaus swept Hercules’ feet out from under him, landing him with a loud thud on the floor and then, as Hercules leapt to his feet, taking hold of Iolaus and lifting his friend high over his head. Iolaus protested loudly at this cavalier treatment...and both were laughing as Hercules set Iolaus back down on the ground.

It was into the midst of these high spirits that Athena arrived, invisible to all but the four adults. The cadets wondered what had happened to so suddenly remove the smiles and quell the laughter of their leaders...wondered what had so abruptly taken their attention.

“I need to speak with you, now,” Athena commanded. “Come outside where we may talk in privacy.”

Recovering, Jason hastily assigned exercises and tasks to the cadets, calling on one to take charge in their absence. Then, the four friends left the hall, to meet Athena beneath the trees on the far side of the yard, against the wall.

“So, Athena,” Hercules began, “what brings you here...and what’s so urgent?”

Athena looked at each of them in turn before responding. Making requests of mortals was not her preference...in her view, gods commanded, they did not implore. However, she had been soundly chastined by Aphrodite and Artemis after their last escapade...in that case, the more appropriate approach would have been to ask for assistance, rather than having manipulated Iolaus to do their bidding. So, she would try it their way...if it didn’t work, she could always fall back on her tried and true methods of threats, coercion and command.

“I need your help,” she began, her tone of authority not sounding at all like a request.

“Really?” Hercules responded, cocking one eyebrow at Iolaus...this was a new approach for Athena.

“Yes,” she responded, coldly. Taking a deep breath, narrowing her lips, she frowned, then continued, “Poseidon is contesting my right to Athens...to force the issue, he has stolen the Pearl of Wisdom.”

Three faces held puzzled expressions...the pearl of what?...but, Hercules immediately looked deeply concerned. “How long has he had it?” Herc asked.

“One day,” she responded, “and it must be returned within the next two days, or I will have to accede to his demands that I relinquish my claims to Athens.”

Iolaus looked from Hercules to Athena. He could tell this was something serious by the way Hercules was acting. “What is this Pearl of Wisdom...and why do you need to get it back in two days?”

Athena threw a cold look at him. She disliked having to explain herself to mortals...and, there were some things she believed it was best if mortals did not know. However, if she wanted their willing assistance, they had to know what was at risk.

“The Pearl of Wisdom is the object which allows me to share wisdom with humanity. Without it, all wisdom amongst mortals will be lost.”

Silence prevailed as the others considered what this meant, horror gradually taking the place of bewilderment on their faces. Without wisdom, humanity would regress, would forget the lessons of its past, would be unable to learn and grow in the future. It would be a return to the dark ages of long ago, a return to a state of being that had existed before history and memory began.

“Why can’t you just take it back?” Jason asked, cautious about getting mixed up in a conflict between gods.

“Poseidon has placed the Pearl in a giant oyster shell deep in a tidal cavern under his Temple at Cape Sounion. I cannot invade an area under his protection without causing war to break out between us. Therefore, I need you to recover the Pearl for me.”

“I see,” murmured Jason as he looked at Hercules and Iolaus. The exchange of glances was all it took...they were aligned in their understanding of the need for their involvement in this. None were willing to risk the loss of wisdom to the world...nor would they stand by and allow war to break out between the gods if they could prevent it.

“Well,” Iolaus could not resist saying in a tight voice, remembering how Athena had secured his cooperation not that long ago, “at least this time, you’re asking...what would you have done, if we didn’t agree?”

Athena’s cold, unblinking stare caused a chill to ripple down his spine. “Do you really want to know?” she asked with all of the hauteur of a goddess sorely pressed close to her limit of patience.

Iolaus made a face as he shook his head and looked away. ‘Goddesses,’ he thought, ‘had a way of getting what they wanted....’

“Once we have it, where do you want us to take it?” asked Hercules.

“Bring it to my alter on the Acropolis in Athens,” Athena responded. “It will be a symbol to all Athenians that I deserve their continued loyalty...that I have the power to continue providing for them as their patron goddess.”

Athena looked at each in turn. “So, you are agreed?” When they nodded affirmation, she gave them a brittle smile and disappeared.

“Two days,” muttered Lilith... “that doesn’t give us much time.”

Jason turned to Lilith, his reluctance at what he was about to say clear in his eyes. “Lilith, you need to stay here.”

“What!” she exclaimed, “what do you mean I need to stay here?”

“Someone needs to remain here, in charge of the Academy...we can’t both go,” Jason reasoned.

Lilith had never had a long fuse...nor had she ever willingly stood by while the others set out on an adventure. The fury was beginning to gather in her eyes, clear in the tautness of her muscles, as she challenged back, “And, why may I ask, am I the one who needs to stay behind...why don’t you stay?”

Jason sighed. “Lilith, for years I worshipped at that shrine. I was a sea captain... Poseidon was the god I looked to for protection and success in all of my actions at sea... I know Cape Sounion, and the caves, tunnels and caverns there better than any of us. We’ll never find a way into the cavern to retrieve the Pearl, without Poseidon being alerted to what we are doing, unless I lead the way.”

Lilith maintained her stubborn stance for a few moments while she considered Jason’s words. Looking first at Hercules, and then at Iolaus, she knew there was no point in suggesting that either of them stay behind. There was no way one would go without the other. She was stuck, as usual, as the one to hold the fort. Damn. She hated this...it was just like all those times years ago when they were cadets at the Academy. These three were always going off without her...and, now, they were going to do it again. Unfortunately, they never, ever made it appear that they were trying to protect her, a woman, from the dangers they were going to face...that she could have fought against and won. Oh no, they had to use reason and logic...against which she could not argue. Her shoulders slumped as she mentally gave up the fight. All three men breathed a little easier when they saw that she would not contest the issue further.

“Alright,” she muttered with ill grace, “just make sure you all come back or I’ll never forgive you for leaving me behind!”

Jason smiled as he hugged her. “Don’t worry...we’ll be fine and back before you know we’re gone.” She sniffed indignantly but said nothing more...she just hugged him back, tight. They had only recently found each other again...she didn’t want to lose him. Though none spoke of the danger, all knew that this was a deadly situation...it always was when mortals entered the games between the gods.

The three warriors packed lightly and set out immediately, jogging back toward Corinth, to cross the isthmus to the port at Pireaus. The Argo was anchored there...and they would need the ship to get to Cape Sounion and back within the time allowed. Two days was barely enough time...they would not be able to stop until the Pearl was safely returned to Athena.

They travelled all that day and well into the night before they came to the port. Fortunately, Jason left a skeleton crew on board at all times, so they were able to set out immediately. What would have taken them the rest of the night and half the morning to travel on foot, they were able to cover by dawn the next morning. Anchoring at a village five miles from Cape Sounion, the three heroes left the ship and moved inland far enough that Poseidon would not see their approach to the Cape.

They jogged along just under the crest of the hills between them and the sea; within an hour, they could see the Temple rising above them, half a mile away. It was an imposing, magnificent structure, high above the sea, poised on the very tip of the Cape. White corinthian columns supported the pitched roof of the open air Temple, revealing an imposing statue of Poseidon and an alter within. It seemed to almost float there, blinding white against the impossible blue of the sky.

Jason led them into a cave that was half concealed by brush. They found sticks bundled as torches inside, lit them and followed Jason as he led them deep under the Temple precinct. The tunnel led downward, and within fifteen minutes, they could hear the hollow pounding of the surf echoing from the cavern below. Finally, the tunnel opened out onto a narrow ledge above the cavern floor. There was a series of shallow ledges below them, leading down to the water...an easy climb. The tide was just beginning to come back in...the cavern floor was only just covered with water, but it would not be long before the surf would be too deep for them to reach the shell and retrieve the Pearl. The cavern was bright with the light that entered through it’s entrance to the sea. This was the riskiest part. If they could see the sea...Poseidon would be able to see them.

They could see the giant shell below them, lodged amongst the rocks that were scattered haphazardly across the cavern floor. It was massive, scalloped, white tinged with pink, closed. Leaving their torches at the tunnel entrance, the men began their climb down to the floor. In minutes, they were beside the giant shell...even closed, it’s rounded surface reached to Hercules’ shoulder. The question was, how to open it?

Of one mind, the men cast about the cavern for something with which the shell could be leavered open. Jason found a sturdy piece of driftwood and handed it to Iolaus. Iolaus wedged the narrow end of the lever between the lips of the shell and pushed down with all his weight, creating enough of an opening that Hercules could wedge his hands between the two halves of the shell and, lifting, he created enough space to also wedge a foot into the gap. Hercules then used all of his strength to force the shell open.

The oyster was not a dead, inanimate thing...it was a living creature, and it fought the intrusion with it’s own strength. The edges of the shell were razor sharp, but Hercules did not let the others know how badly his hands had been cut prying the lips of the shell apart. It was a contest of strength, and will, in which Hercules finally prevailed, positioning himself with his feet on the bottom edge of the shell and the top held above his head by his trembling arms. He would not be able to hold it open for long.

As soon as they had begun the assault on the oyster shell, the world outside the cavern had begun to darken, the surf pounding more wildly into the cavern. They did not have much time. Poseidon had somehow sensed his sanctuary was being invaded and was sending his forces to subdue whoever had dared to enter his domain without his knowledge or permission. He could not be far away.

Iolaus ducked into the opening Hercules had created, into the body of the oyster. He gasped when he saw the Pearl, momentarily stunned into immobility. It was perfectly round and as large as his head. It glimmered mysteriously in the dim light, irridescent colours shimmering within it’s creamy surface. It radiated a power, an energy that was warm to the touch. When Iolaus touched it, to pick it up, he was staggered by the impact of images and knowledge, by the weight not only of the physical Pearl but by the weight of wisdom within it.

“Hurry up, Iolaus,” gasped Hercules, “I can’t hold this thing open forever!”

Herc’s voice cut through Iolaus’ distraction, and he picked up the Pearl, cradling it in his arms as he backed out of the oyster. Turning, he and Jason headed toward the shallow ledges, to start the climb back to the tunnel above. They did not see, as Hercules stepped back to release his hold on the shell, how it snapped shut with a vicious speed and strength, tearing a long gash along his left arm, through skin and muscle, to the bone. Ignoring the injury, he plunged after his friends, the raging surf now over his waist, dragging at him, as he clambered up onto the first ledge above the water.

Iolaus and Jason had leapfrogged up the ledges, one handing the Pearl up to the other as they rapidly climbed back to the level of the tunnel. It was almost black within the cavern, the pounding of the surf loud in their ears, as it echoed in the hollow space. Suddenly the ground beneath their feet started to tremble, chunks of the roof began to fall. Poseidon would cause the cavern to collapse to keep the intruders from getting away.

Turning, Iolaus looked to see what was taking Herc so long. Alarmed, he saw the blood streaming from Herc’s arm and hands. His best friend was having a hard time climbing the ledges...his left arm was almost useless...and getting worse. Clearly, he could not trust it, could not put his weight upon it. Finally, Herc had reached the last ledge below them...it was the steepest part of the climb. Had he been fully able, he could have mastered it quickly, but his strength was flagging, his left arm now virtually useless. The trembling of the ground increased...the ledges below broke away as the wall of the cavern began to split from the sea level up to the tunnel above. Larger chunks were falling from the ceiling...it was seconds away from collapsing entirely.

“Jason, hold my belt,” yelled Iolaus as he leaned down toward Hercules. Jason, seeing that Hercules needed help, gently laid the Pearl just inside the tunnel, took hold of Iolaus’ belt with one hand and braced himself with the other against the tunnel entrance. Iolaus leaned down over the edge of the ledge, his right arm stretched out toward Hercules, his left grasping the stone on the edge. “Hercules, jump! Take my hand!”

Herc, looking up, understood. Reaching high with his right hand, he jumped and he and Iolaus grasped one another’s wrists...just in time, as the ledge Herc had been standing on disintegrated beneath his feet. It was now a sheer drop below him to the pounding surf beneath. Jason grunted with the extra weight he felt when Iolaus took hold of Hercules and he tried to pull back, tried to pull both of his friends to safety. The earth was rocking now beneath his feet, it was hard to maintain his balance, let alone lever his weight back against the weight of his two friends. Grimly, he held onto Iolaus’ belt and pulled.

Herc’s hand, bloody from the cuts from the shell, was slipping in Iolaus’ grasp. The cords on Iolaus’ neck stood out, his face reddened with the strain of holding all of Herc’s weight with his one arm, trying to hold Herc’s slipping grip, trying to pull his friend to safety....desperate with the danger around them. Hercules could see the crack widen along the underside of the ledge...knew that it was about to break off, taking all three of them back down to the rocks and surf below. He grimaced as a chunk of the cavern’s roof slammed into his injured shoulder and arm on it’s way to the floor beneath them and his grip slipped even more, so that now Iolaus’s smaller hand was locked around his, desperately holding onto him.

Herc looked up, locked eyes with Iolaus. He knew what he had to do. They were out of options. In moments more, he would be pulling Iolaus, and maybe Jason too, back into the chasm with him. Iolaus could see the decision in his eyes, gripped his hand harder as he started to shout, “NO!”

Holding Iolaus’ eyes with his own, Hercules called over Iolaus’ voice to Jason, “Take care of him, Jase.” Then, he said softly to Iolaus, in a voice his friend could barely hear above the tumult around them, “I’m sorry, Iolaus...forgive me....” and he let loose his own grip on Iolaus’ fingers, twisting his arm to break Iolaus’ hold on his hand, and dropped, like a stone, to the surf below.

Iolaus screamed, “HERCULESSS!!!” as he was pulled back into the tunnel entrance...the sudden loss of Herc’s weight had created a reaction whereby the pull Jason had been exerting caused them both to fall back into the tunnel, just as the ledge Iolaus had been perched upon broke away from the wall and much of the ceiling crashed down behind it to the churning surf below.

“NOOOOO!!!!” Iolaus raged as he lunged toward the lip of the tunnel, frantically searching the surf and shattered rocks below for Hercules....but, all he could see was the raging sea, the white foam breaking against the tops of massive boulders, the giant shell completely lost beneath the waves. “HERCULEEESSSS!!!” he screamed, as he started over the ledge, only to be grabbed and pulled back by Jason. He struggled madly, “Let me go!” he cried, “Let me go...Herc needs me....”

But, Jason would not let him go. Instead, he grabbed Iolaus more tightly and hauled him from the precipitous edge. “He’s gone, Iolaus....there’s nothing you can do....” Jason shouted back, filled with his own shocked desperation and grief...but still rational enough to know Hercules was beyond their help.

“NOOOOO!!!!” screamed Iolaus again, “HERCULEESSS!” He struggled against Jason’s grip, sobbing...but, Jason held on. ‘Take care of him....’ Hercules had asked, a last request, a last expression of trust. Jason would not let Iolaus go, would not let him sacrifice himself in a hopeless bid to reach Hercules.

Gradually, Iolaus’s struggles lessened. Still sobbing, he begged, “Please Jason....we have to help him....”

“I’m sorry, Iolaus....he’s gone,” Jason whispered past the lump in his throat.

“No, Herc’s survived worst things....he can’t be dead....he can’t be....” Iolaus’ voice cracked, unable to continue. Jason held him as they both scanned the sea below them. Nothing. Hercules was gone.

Jason pulled Iolaus back into the tunnel. “We have to get out of here, Iolaus...before Poseidon himself arrives...if we don’t, all of humanity will be lost.” Iolaus resisted the pull a moment more, then seemed to shrink into himself. Hercules was gone. As the magnitude hit him, he doubled over, gagging and gasping as he wretched, his insides twisted in the agony of his loss, sickened beyond words, beyond imagining. Hercules was dead. He felt as if his heart was bursting within his chest...he felt as if he could not breathe. Jason held him until the spasms ended, until Iolaus was limp in his arms...all the fight gone out of him...and most of his life, too.

“Come on, Iolaus,” Jason commanded in a stern voice, deliberately pitched to gather Iolaus’ fragmented consciousness in a bid to pull Iolaus far enough out of his state of shock that they could get away. Jason lit the torch and put it into Iolaus’ hand. Picking up the Pearl, cradling it in one arm, Jason put his other arm around Iolaus’ waist and pulled him further into the tunnel. Iolaus was beyond resisting. His mind was locked on those moments when Herc had looked into his eyes, when he had lost his grip on his best friend, when he had watched his friend plunge to his death below. He shuffled along beside Jason, unaware of where he was or of what they were doing...all the way through the long tunnels until they came again to the cave entrance high above the cavern below.

Jason knew they could not carry on this way. He needed Iolaus alert, working with him. He could not half carry Iolaus, and the Pearl too, all the way back to the Argo. It was already midday...they had to be back in Athens by sunset. There was a storm raging around them as Poseidon used the forces at his command to protest the invasion of his precincts. Jason again laid the Pearl down, just inside the cave, out of the rain. Turning to Iolaus, grabbing his arms with both hands, Jason shook his smaller friend, trying to get his attention, trying to draw him back. Iolaus’ eyes remained glazed, tears silently streaming down a face grey and lined with grief and horror. Tightening his jaw, his lips thinned in distaste against what he had to do, Jason slapped Iolaus hard, and then again.

“IOLAUS!” Jason shouted at his friend, “Iolaus, you have to wake up!”

Gradually, the light of awareness returned to Iolaus’ eyes and he looked up at Jason, who flinched against the naked, raw pain he saw there. “I’m sorry, Iolaus,” Jason murmured, “I know how hard...but, we have to carry on....we’re running out of time.” Iolaus looked away, not wanting to reengage with the reality around him. “Iolaus,” Jason urged, “You know Hercules would want us to go on...we have to get the Pearl back to Athena....”

Finally, mutely, Iolaus nodded and pushed past Jason to head back to the Argo. Jason sighed as he picked up the Pearl and followed his friend. The storm raged around them, the wind buffeting them strongly as they jogged along the path behind the hills to the village below.

As soon as they were aboard the Argo, Jason ordered his crew to weigh anchor. He could see the terror in their eyes...it was beyond dangerous to head out into those waters, into that mad storm. But, there was no choice. Jason held them together with his own will and determination. All of his skill as the best sea captain the world had yet known was challenged as he manned the wheel, calling orders to his crew, riding the edge of the wind back toward Pireaus. Before they had left the dock, Jason had hustled Iolaus below decks into the his cabin, and had pushed the Pearl into the security of Iolaus’ arms. Throughout the voyage, Iolaus hugged the Pearl to his chest, curled over it, against the wall of the cabin, braced against the wild pitching and tossing of the ship in the grip of the storm.

Iolaus held onto the Pearl, guarding it. But, in his heart, he didn’t really care if they made it or if the ship was torn asunder to sink below the waves. If it wasn’t for the pain, he would have felt completely dead. All he could see was Herc’s eyes. All he could hear in the raging wind, in the creaking of the vessel protesting against the assault of the waves, was Herc’s voice... ‘I’m sorry...” He hadn’t been able to hold his friend...hadn’t been able to save him. Iolaus closed his eyes against the tears, moaned softly with the pain of a tortured soul.

Somehow, they escaped Poseidon’s direct attention. Had the God of the Sea known they were responsible for the theft of the Pearl, he would not have hesitated to have blasted the ship into oblivion. But, his attention had been focused upon the cavern and the Temple... Poseidon had not taken note of the ship berthed discreetly some miles away. And so, as the afternoon headed toward dusk, they broke free of the storm into calmer waters and limped into Pireaus. As soon as they were docked, Jason went below to bring Iolaus back on deck. They headed down the gangplank onto the dock, and then followed the roofed and walled passage, built long ago for defence, from the port into the city.

It took an hour for them to reach the centre of the city and climb to the top of the Acropolis...the highest, and therefore holiest, spot in Athens. The top was bare, except for the alter to Athena....the plans for an imposing temple, to be called the Parthenon, had only just been drawn up and building would not start for some months yet. Jason laid the Pearl of Wisdom upon the alter. Iolaus stood at his side, little more than a zombie, mute and aching in his grief.

Athena flashed into their presence and laid a hand upon the Pearl. “You have done well,” she praised them. Jason snorted, Iolaus just looked away. There was no satisfaction in the completion of this task. The price had been too high. Athena narrowed her eyes as she took in their reactions. “You don’t have time to linger here...You must recover Hercules before the dawn, or he will be lost.”

Iolaus turned his eyes back upon the goddess. “Hercules is dead,” he told her, his voice dull, full of pain.

Athena shook her head. “Not yet...but he will be if you do not recover him before this night ends.”

Jason stared at her, hope a dim flicker in his eyes. “Hercules is alive?” he demanded, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing.

“Yes, I have just told you so,” replied Athena, impatient with their slowness in understanding her.

For a moment, Jason and Iolaus stood, stunned by this news. Herc was alive? Was it possible?

“What do you mean...recover him? Is he still in the cavern? How could he survive...we...we looked...he was gone, beneath the sea...” Iolaus asked in a strained voice, remembering the pounding surf, the wreck of the rocks from the shattered roof of the cavern. Gods, had they abandoned him too soon...could they have saved him after all?

“No...he’s no longer in the cavern. He fell into the oyster shell, which had opened again in expectation that the Pearl would be returned to it. When it received Hercules instead, it closed over him, protecting him from the falling rocks and the sea.”

Iolaus and Jason struggled to take this in. If Herc was inside the shell, why wasn’t he still inside the cavern? Athena anticipated their questions, understood their confusion. “Poseidon arrived shortly after the two of you escaped. He was furious with Hercules and pitched the shell far into the ocean, where it has fallen to the sea floor, miles below the surface. But, Hercules still lives.”

Hercules was alive, inside a giant oyster shell, somewhere in the ocean, miles below the surface...and they had to find and rescue him before dawn. Gods...it was impossible.

“Can you help us,” implored Iolaus, “Can you show us where the shell is...bring it to the surface?”

“No...I cannot. The sea is Poseidon’s domain and only denizens of the sea may venture into it’s depths.”

“Then how...?” murmured Jason. There had to be a way. Surely, Athena would not torture them with hope only to have Hercules lost somewhere they could not go.

“You will need the help of someone of the sea...Poseidon is not the only immortal in that domain...he may rule it, but there is one who might help you...with the right persuasion.”

Iolaus was fast moving from stunned hope to growing irritation with this roundabout, vague discourse. “Get to the point, Athena,” he rasped, uncaring of her deity, of her delicate feelings of superiority. “What do we have to do?”

Mortals, she thought...this one was particularly disrespectful. It was a good thing that she liked him as much as she liked any mortal...more than most. And, Hercules was her brother...she did not want him unnecessarily sacrificed in service to her.

“Circe may help you,” she responded, holding her patience in check.

“Circe?” snorted Iolaus. The Sea Witch, Circe, was well known for her loathing of mortals...she would lure them to their deaths before she would help them.

“Yes, Circe,” continued Athena. “You can bargain with her....if you can acquire her lyre from Apollo to trade it for her assistance in rescuing Hercules.”

Jason shook his head, this was getting worse. Now they had to take on Apollo, find a particular instrument, and get it to Circe...all before dawn. “Apollo,” he muttered.

Athena turned her icy gaze upon him. “Yes...Apollo, in his guise as the God of Music, decided he wanted her lyre...it holds the magic of her music, of the charms she weaves upon sailors....he had it stolen from her some time ago.”

“Who stole it?” asked Iolaus. Gods and goddesses never gave up any information unless they had to...the thief would know where the lyre was...and might well be able to steal it back.

“Hermes,” replied Athena shortly. Iolaus groaned. It figured...who else but the patron god of thieves would be able to successfully steal from one god for another. Why did it have to be Hermes? Iolaus had spent some brief time in his clutches as an adolescent thief in Thebes...and had spent the rest of his life trying to avoid ever being close to Hermes again.

So concentrated were all of them upon their discussion, they failed to notice the sky darken above them. Suddenly, thunder crashed around them and Poseidon rose up from the sea...monstrous in his magnificence, huge, looming above them.

“So, Athena,” he rumbled, “you think you have won! But, I have another gift for the people of Athens, to show them my power and the benefits of my patronage. Everlasting water, flowing from the heart of the earth, up through the Acropolis, as a gift to them.” He laughed coldly, “And, perhaps, in giving this gift, I can repay these mortals for their insolence in invading my domain!”

Poseidon raised his trident, pointed it at them and a blast of energy flowed from it to strike the earth where they were standing, piercing the earth in a mighty blast of fire. Iolaus and Jason were thrown aside by the blast. Athena stood fearless before him, her hand still upon the Pearl, protecting it from his fury. The fire dimmed, water flowed from the cleft Poseidon had made in the stone of the mountain. “Let the Athenians choose now...let them decide who is the most powerful....who will best protect their interests for all the years to come,” he shouted as he withdrew, back into the waves of the sea.

Iolaus dragged himself back to full consciousness, his body bruised by the blast and by having been thrown roughly to the ground. He shook his head, to clear away the stars in front of his eyes, and pushed himself to his feet. Alarmed, he saw Jason, not far away, crumpled on the ground. He half ran, half staggered to his friend, then knelt by his side, gently turning Jason onto his back. “Jason,” he whispered, dismayed to see burns along one side of Jason’s body.

Jason groaned as he came back to the world around him...then hissed as the pain invaded his consciousness. He opened his eyes, still stunned, but gradually, he focused upon Iolaus. “Easy, Jason,” Iolaus murmured, “you’ve been hurt...I’ll get help.”

“No,” rasped Jason, “no time...I’ll be alright...you have go after Hercules...”

Iolaus cradled Jason’s head and shoulders against his chest as he looked up at Athena, a wordless plea on his lips. She nodded, for once offering help without condition, “I’ll take care of him...and return him to the Academy. You have no time to waste.”

Iolaus gave her a ghost of a smile, “Thank you,” he said softly, then found himself alone on the top of the Acropolis...Athena had taken Jason, presumably back to the Academy, and Lilith, where he could get the care he needed. Iolaus stood a moment, pondering his next move. Hermes and Circe...what a combination. Who would ever have thought he’d need to petition them for assistance, rely upon them to save Herc’s life? Sighing, he headed back down off the Acropolis...he didn’t have any choice.

Iolaus knew he needed to be near the shore. There was an old shrine to Hermes in the village of Vouligami, not far from Pireaus...and, not more than ten miles from there, he knew of an ancient, almost ruined shrine to Circe. Jogging down the path from the Acropolis and through the city, Iolaus ignored the awestruck citizens of the city, dodged around them as they gathered in the streets, murmuring at the recent display of Poseidon’s power. The bolt, and the resulting spring of water, was a gift...but, it was also a reminder of his incredible power. If they did not choose him, would his next bolt of energy be less friendly? Would Athena, with her wisdom and her power as a goddess of war, be able to successfully intercede for them? Iolaus didn’t care...their dilemma was not his. It was full dark...he only had hours to get Herc back.

An hour and a half later, Iolaus fetched up in front of Hermes’ shrine, belatedly realizing he had nothing to give as an offering. Shrugging, he entered the shrine and stood before the alter. “Hermes,” he shouted, “Hermes, I need your help! Please, answer me! Hermes!”

He had to shade his eyes against the brilliant flash of light that burst before him, heralding the appearance of the Messenger of the Gods...and the patron of all thieves. Hermes leered at him, an oily smile of anticipation on his lips as he contemplated Iolaus. “You called, my little friend?”

Iolaus swallowed hard against the leer, and resisted blurting out that he was no friend...he could not afford to antagonize Hermes, not when this god was his only hope of saving Herc’s life.

“Yes, thank you, Hermes, for coming so quickly,” Iolaus kept his voice level, kept the active dislike he felt well hidden. “Hermes...I need your help. Poseidon has Hercules trapped beneath the ocean...and I need Circe to get him to shore.”

Hermes listened, speculation and anticipation warring for dominance in his expression. “And what, pray tell, can I do to help you?”

“I need Circe’s lyre...I’m hoping you know where it is...and that you will bring it to me,” Iolaus replied.

“Ah, I see,” murmured Hermes as he studied the delectable man before him. He’d always liked Iolaus, considered Iolaus one of ‘his’...always hoped that Iolaus would return to him some day...he had had such promise as a thief...could have been the best. “And what is in it for me, Iolaus? What will you give me in return for this favour?” he purred.

Iolaus repressed a shudder. When Hermes looked at him like this, it made his skin crawl. “Isn’t it enough to know that Zeus will be grateful to you for helping to save his son’s life?”

Hermes gave a slow smile as he shook his head. “You can do better than that, my sweet. Otherwise, you can just appeal to Zeus directly....so, what do you offer me?”

Iolaus had already considered appealing to Zeus...but, he was pretty sure that would be a waste of time. If Zeus could have helped, Athena would not have directed him to Hermes and Circe...no doubt, it had something to do with their stupid rules...Zeus probably could not intervene in Poseidon’s domain anymore than he could invade Hades’ underworld. The gods had divided up the turf and they were reluctant, to say the least, to challenge one another’s rights and privileges. Zeus would be regretful...but he would not help.

Iolaus steeled himself. This was for Hercules...it was the only way to save his friend’s life...nothing was too much to give. “I offer whatever you want of me, Hermes,” he vowed.

“Hmmm,” Hermes pondered the offer...such possibilities. Still, he could not demand too much...either Hercules or Zeus would make him rescind all demands if he went too far. “Alright, Iolaus...I will help you...in exchange for twenty-four hours of service...in whatever task I demand of you.” Iolaus looked away and nodded. He did not want to contemplate what that task might be...he would learn soon enough. “Alright,” he agreed.

Hermes smirked at him, “Wonderful....now, don’t go away...I won’t be long!” Hermes vanished from view.

Iolaus sighed and wandered back outside. Sinking to the ground, he rested his back against the wall of the shrine and stared up at the stars. ‘Where are you, Herc?’ he wondered. ‘Hang on, my friend...it won’t be much longer.’

Iolaus was tired. Thinking back over all that had happened, he could scarcely believe it had been less than forty eight hours since Athena had first requested their help. It had to have been just about the worst day of his life...but, everything would be alright if he could just get Hercules back, safe and sound. Resting his head on the arms he had crossed over his raised knees, Iolaus was unaware of drifting into sleep.

“Wakey, wakey,” crooned Hermes, “I’m back!” Iolaus started awake, disoriented for a moment until memory crashed in. Hercules...Hermes! Iolaus leapt to his feet, immensely relieved to see the lyre cradled in Hermes’ arm.

“You got it! Thank you!” Iolaus’ gratitude was sincere. In response, Hermes gave him a genuine, open smile as he handed Iolaus the lyre.

“Here you are, Iolaus...and remember, when I call...whenever it is...tomorrow or next year...you will give me twenty four hours.”

Relieved beyond words to have the means of securing Herc’s life in his hands, Iolaus gave Hermes a cocky grin, “I’ll be waiting!” he assured the God of Thieves, before turning away, to race along the shore toward Circe’s ruined temple. Hermes chuckled to himself as he watched Iolaus disappear into the night. It would be fun to have Iolaus back...even if only for twenty four hours. It would be even more fun to make him wait and wonder when he would be called. Delicious. There was no hurry.

It took Iolaus more than an hour to reach the shrine on the rocky outcrop above the sea. He had no idea what time it was, no idea how much time was left before dawn. He scanned the skies, and, from the position of the moon and the evening star, he thought it must be well after midnight. Not much time left. Standing by the remains of the alter, open to the wind and the blowing surf, Iolaus called out, “Circe! Hear me! I have a gift for you! Circe....I need you now! Come to me!”

He waited. Would she come? Circe hated mortals. If she came, would she listen or kill him outright? He held the lyre before him...a flimsy shield, but all he had.

Finally, a fog rose from the sea at his feet, gradually shifting, forming into the solid figure of the Sea Witch, Circe. She was impossibly beautiful...and deadly. Staring at the lyre, the hunger for it clear in her eyes, she spoke, the haunting tones that lured sailors to their deaths, echoing in her voice. “Why do you call me, mortal?”

“Circe...I need you to bring Hercules to me....in return, I will return this lyre to you.”

Circe’s desire was plain in her eyes, in every line of her being as she leaned toward him...her hand reaching toward the instrument. Iolaus stepped back, well up onto the beach. “No...you can only have it when you have brought Hercules to me...he is trapped in a giant oyster shell...Poseidon threw him far into the sea. You have to bring him back before dawn...or I will give this back to Apollo.” Iolaus spoke bravely, hiding his terror of this ruthless witch.

Circe hissed in anger. How dared this mortal bargain with her? Still, if she did this...she would not only have her precious lyre back, but she would also gain the gratitude of Zeus. One never knew when that might come in handy. She stared a moment longer at Iolaus, her eyes black bottomless pits of malice. “Alright, mortal...wait for me here,” she purred coldly, as she sank beneath the waves.

Iolaus let out the breath he had been holding. Gods, she was scary. ‘Only for you, Herc,’ he murmured to himself, as he sank down on the sand, his back propped against a rock. How long would she be? Iolaus waited, watched the waning moon cross the sky and sink toward the sea. Until now, he had held away the reality of the bargain he was making. He was going to give Circe back her lyre...going to give her back the instrument of temptation and death that could lure uncounted sailors to their doom. Hercules would be furious with him...Herc would never willingly trade his life for the lives of others.

Iolaus tried to rationalize the bargain he was making...if Hermes had not stolen the lyre in the first place, Circe would have continued to lure seamen to their deaths...all who sailed knew of the danger and knew how to protect themselves from her. It had been this way since the beginning of time...one way or another, she would have gotten the lyre back eventually. At least, this way, it’s price would bring back the man who stood against evil, who defended the weak and innocent...who could do endless good, to balance the evil she was...to more than balance it. Sighing, Iolaus realized that he might convince himself, but Herc would still be furious. Well, too bad. Iolaus didn’t care if Herc approved of what he had done...he only cared that Herc would live.

It was taking too long. Dawn could not be far away. Where was she? Why hadn’t she returned? Had Poseidon realized what she was doing? Had he stopped her? Iolaus’ anxiety had reached a fever pitch. He was up and pacing back and forth along the beach next to the ruined shrine. His eyes strained against the blackness of the sea, searching for her return...searching for his friend. ‘Gods,’ he thought, ‘what’s taking so long? .....what if she’s too late...what if Herc....’ Iolaus stopped himself, pushed back his panic. He would not go there, he would not accept that Herc would be anything but fine. They were so close to winning this battle...Herc had to be fine. ‘Come on,’ he urged the witch of sea, ‘come on...where are you?’

Alarmed, Iolaus noticed that it wasn’t so dark. The blackness of night was lifting...in the greyness before dawn, he could see further out to sea....nothing. ‘Please, oh please,’ he prayed, ‘don’t be too late...please....’

Finally, as tendrils of gold began to paint the eastern sky, he saw the shape of a large shell coming toward him through the sea, rising as it came closer to land. In moments, Circe had deposited the giant oyster shell upon the beach. “Here it is,” she hissed, “now give me my lyre.”

Iolaus remembered how hard it had been for Hercules to open the shell. He had no hope of doing so on his own...he had to get Herc out of the shell. Dawn was breaking, the light was growing stronger. “No,” he retorted, “not until you open the shell...not until you get him out of it!” He stood back from the water’s edge, fighting the urge to run to the shell, to pound on it and kick it and break it open. He held the lyre tightly in front of him.

Circe glared at him. She waved a hand and the shell opened. She waved again and Hercules’ body floated out of it to rest on the sand at the edge of the sea. Without a word, she held out her hand for the lyre. Iolaus wasted no time in moving to Herc’s side, dropping to his knees as he held the lyre out to her. She grabbed it greedily from his hand and, with one last cold, threatening look, she said with deadly control, “Never call me again....” then she turned and slipped back under the sea.

Iolaus gathered Hercules into his arms and was appalled, terrified at what he saw. Herc was coated in an irridescent sheath...the oyster had bound him within a pearl shell. He was unresponsive, unmoving...not breathing. Iolaus tore at the sheath, but was unable to find a grip, unable to rip it from his friend’s face and body. Desperate, he pounded on Herc’s body, crying out to his friend to waken, to break out of the delicate prison that held him in thrall. It was dawn...it was too late.

Sobbing, Iolaus pulled his friend’s body to him, cradling Herc’s head and shoulders against his chest. No, it wasn’t possible...not after all this...no.... “Hercules,” he cried, “please, Hercules, you have to wake up...you have to come back to me....please, Herc...” He couldn’t accept it...there had to be something else he could do. Rocking Hercules, Iolaus shouted through his tears, “Athena! You have to help him! Athena! Please!”

There was a shimmering in the early morning light, and then Athena stood before him. There was a sadness in her eyes as she looked down upon the silent form of her brother. “I’m sorry, Iolaus...it’s too late...it took too long to get him back.”

“No,” Iolaus pleaded with her, “no, please, there must be something you can do...please, I’ll do anything...give you anything....”

Athena gazed deeply into Iolaus’ eyes. “Anything?” she whispered.

For a moment, Iolaus could not think what she meant...what she wanted from him...what he could offer. And, then, it came to him.

“You owe me,” he whispered, barely able to speak through his desperation and grief. “Aphrodite told me...that you could choose to repay me...that you could even save me from death...if you wanted to. You owe me, Athena, for the Rainbow Crystal...I claim the debt...Herc’s life...give me back Herc’s life.”

“You know what you are asking, Iolaus...it is, ultimately, your own life you are offering... someday, you may regret having given up the chance to cheat death one more time.”

“It doesn’t matter...I don’t care about myself...just give him back to me! Please, Athena,” he begged, tears streaming unheeded down his cheeks. Herc was so cold in his arms, so still.

Athena nodded, accepting his choice, agreeing to pay the debt she owed. The shell around Hercules dissipated into the sea air, blew away in the light breeze. He drew breath, the pallor of his skin gave way to a warm, bronze glow. Iolaus hugged him close, “Thank you,” he whispered, “thank you, Athena.”

She nodded again, and then was gone. Iolaus pulled Hercules further up the beach, away from the curling waves that spread out upon the sand. Holding his friend tightly in his arms, Iolaus leaned back against a boulder and, in his relief and exhaustion, he drifted off to sleep.

Iolaus jerked back awake as Hercules stirred in his arms. “Herc?” he called softly, “Herc, are you back with me?”

Hercules moaned softly, stretched, opened his eyes...confused, then startled as he focused on Iolaus above him, realized Iolaus was holding him. “What? How?...” he mumbled.

“It’s alright...you’re alright, Herc,” Iolaus grinned down at him, glowing with relief and gratitude that Herc really was going to be alright.

Herc shifted, then, with Iolaus’ help, sat up, rubbing his face with his hands, pushing them back through his hair. “I fell...I was in the shell....” Realizing his left arm was working properly, he looked at his arm, explored it with his right hand, then noticed his hands...all the cuts and wounds were healed. He looked up at Iolaus, disoriented by all that was happening. “I heard Poseidon curse me...felt the shell shift...and then, nothing.”

Iolaus kept one hand on his friend’s back, supporting him gently. “I know...we got the Pearl of Wisdom back to Athena...she told us you were still alive, in the shell, far beneath the ocean.”

Hercules considered this, looked around. “Where’s Jason?”

“He’s back at the Academy...he got caught in one of Poseidon’s blasts...but, he’s okay...really...don’t worry,” Iolaus hastened to reassure Hercules, watching the trace of alarm cross his face. “Really, Herc, he’s fine...Athena promised to take care of him.”

Herc nodded, rubbed the back of his neck. “How did I get here?” he asked, puzzled by the rapid change of circumstances...he had been certain that he was going to die inside of that shell.

Iolaus wasn’t sure how to respond...but, he’d never lied to Herc...he wasn’t about to start now. “Um, I made a couple of deals...bargained a bit...nothing to worry about...” his voice drifted off as Hercules pinned him with a look. Iolaus couldn’t hold the gaze, looked away.

‘Uh oh,’ Herc thought, ‘Iolaus is stalling...’ Aloud, he demanded to know, “Iolaus, what deals...what bargains....what have you done?”

“I did what I had to do,” he answered softly, then turned back to look at Hercules, knowing that his friend would not stop until he had the whole story. “I needed Circe to bring the shell back from the bottom of the sea. To gain her cooperation, I had to promise to give her the lyre Apollo had had stolen from her....”

Herc’s eyes clouded as realization of what Iolaus had done sank in. “Apollo had her lyre? AND YOU GAVE IT BACK!” Iolaus flinched at the incredulous anger he heard in Herc’s voice, then replied in kind.

“YES! I gave it back to her...it was the only way...I had no choice....” he shouted.

“There’s always a choice,” Hercules raged back, “Do you know how many lives you’ve risked...how many might die because of what you have done!”

Iolaus just stared at Hercules for a moment. He’d known Herc would react this way... noble to a fault....Iolaus clambered to his feet, looked down on his friend. “Yes,” he whispered, “I know...and I will have to live with that...but I’d do it again in a heartbeat... I’d do anything to save your life....” Turning, Iolaus began to walk back along the beach, back the way he had come so many hours before.

Hercules watched him walk away...knew he couldn’t let him go...knew he would have probably done the same thing, if it had been the only choice he had. Standing, Hercules jogged after Iolaus, caught him by the arm, turning Iolaus around to face him.

“I’m sorry, Iolaus...I should be thanking you for saving my life...not shouting at you for having to make impossible choices....I’m sorry.”

Iolaus nodded and started to turn away...but, Herc held his arm. Looking down at Iolaus, Herc asked, “How did you get the lyre away from Apollo?”

Iolaus looked out across the sea, to the far horizon. “I made a deal with Hermes,” he responded quietly.

Herc’s face lost all expression...this didn’t sound good at all. “What kind of deal?”

“I promised to do whatever he wanted from me for twenty four hours....” Iolaus replied quietly, voice carefully without expression...but he winced a little when Hercules tightened his grip on his arm.

“You promised....Iolaus...he could demand anything...I....” Herc was afraid to even think about what Hermes might want Iolaus to do. “It’s too much, Iolaus....the cost could be too high.”

Iolaus glanced up at Hercules before looking back at the horizon. “No cost would be too high....” he murmured softly.

Hercules looked at Iolaus with dismay. What was he going to do with this impetuous, selfless man...how could he thank him...how could he protect him? A bargain was a bargain. “Gods, Iolaus...you give too much....”

Iolaus shrugged off Herc’s hand and turned to face him fully. Looking up into Herc’s eyes, Iolaus replied quietly, “Hercules...you’ve told me...and others have told me...how you felt when I...when I died in Sumeria. For the first time, I really understood ...when I thought you were dead, I thought I would lose my mind...I didn’t want to live...I wasn’t sure I could live, it hurt so much. Twenty four hours with Hermes is a very small price to pay for a lifetime of having you back.”

Herc couldn’t speak...he knew exactly what Iolaus was saying...knew he would have done anything himself to have gotten Iolaus back. Silently, gratefully, he pulled Iolaus into a tight hug, held him for a long moment before letting him go. Herc gestured helplessly, “Thank you,” was all he could say...and then he caught the shift in Iolaus’ eyes. There was more...what else had Iolaus done to get him back?

Iolaus had turned away, hoping that Herc would ask nothing more. But, he hadn’t gone a single pace when he felt Herc’s hand again on his shoulder, turning him back.

“What aren’t you telling me, Iolaus?” His small friend gave a wry grin as he looked past Hercules, back at the shell lying open and abandoned on the beach, the water swirling around it. “Iolaus?”

Iolaus looked back up at Hercules. “How do you always know, Herc? How do you always know when I’m not telling you everything?” he asked with a slow shake of his head. “Let it go...it’s not important.”

“What? Tell me,” Hercules insisted.

Iolaus sighed. Dropping his head, he responded softly, “When Circe opened the shell, you were covered in a pearl sheath...I couldn’t get it off you...you weren’t breathing.” Looking back up at Hercules, he continued, “You were dead...or the next thing to it. I had to do something, Herc...I didn’t have much left to bargain with.” Iolaus stopped, looked away. Hercules was not going to like this. “I called Athena....I reminded her that she owed me a debt....I asked her to repay me with your life.”

There was a long silence as Hercules considered his words, realized what he had done, what he had given away. “Iolaus,” Herc finally whispered past the lump in his throat, “you gave up....”

Iolaus sighed, cut him off. “Herc, it wasn’t anything you wouldn’t have done yourself, you know that...besides, who knows if Athena would even remember she owed me something the next time I...you know gods and goddesses have short memories. I thought it was better to collect now....it was the only way. Let it go.”

Herc’s eyes blurred and he had to look away, had to regain his control. There would come a day when he would remember this, when he would give anything to get back what Iolaus had just given up on his behalf. A day when Iolaus would die...and he wouldn’t be able to get him back. He felt Iolaus’ hand grip his arm, heard Iolaus say, “It’s alright, Herc...it could be fifty or a hundred years from now...at least we have this time...better than you still being sheathed in pearl...it’s worth it...you know that.”

Hercules looked back down at Iolaus. Hercules knew he would be dead now, without that bargain having been made...dead and lost to all that they could still share together. He nodded, found a smile as he looped an arm around Iolaus’ shoulder. “You’re right, Iolaus...thank you...thank you for all that will ever happen...all that we will ever do from here on.” As the friends walked along the shore, Hercules thought, ‘besides, when the time comes...who knows...I’ve beaten Hades before....”

Athena had been summoned to the throne room in Zeus’ Temple on Olympus. As she climbed the steps to the portico, Hermes exited the Temple, mumbling under his breath, “His gratitude should be enough...hummph!” Hermes passed her by, as if he didn’t even see her.

Athena could guess what had just transpired between Hermes and Zeus...Her father would not have taken kindly to Hermes’ bargaining for Hercules’ life. Iolaus would never have to give up his twenty four hours. Entering the Temple, she walked calmly across the great hall, to face her father on his throne. She stood with her head high, waiting for him to explain why he had sent for her.

“You ask too much, Athena...and you give too little in return. They returned the Pearl of Wisdom to you...restored that source of your power and secured your place in the affections of the Athenians. They braved Poseidon’s wrath for you...and for humanity. You owed them a debt of gratitude for that...as well as for Iolaus’ sacrifice in obtaining the Rainbow Crystal.”

Athena remained silent. There was no answer she could make. She waited to hear what else her father had to say.

“The return of Hercules’ life, in return for his sacrifice on your behalf, was no more than his due. There should have been no need for Iolaus to ask it of you....by the gods, Athena, he is your brother!” Zeus thundered.

She inclined her head, granting his assessment.

“I will take on your debt to Iolaus...and I will repay it on your behalf when it is needed. And you, you still owe a debt to both Jason and Iolaus, for their part in the restoration of the Pearl of Wisdom. Reflect on this, Athena, learn from this...sometimes we can be too arrogant. If we expect the mortals to rever us, to worship us, to undertake great tasks on our behalf, sometimes we need to do more than acknowledge their existance...sometimes, we need to repay them for the gifts they give us, the favours they do at our request.... Otherwise, they will, inevitably, turn away from us.”

Athena nodded once, then took her leave. Sometimes, there were lessons even the Goddess of Wisdom had yet to learn. As she left the Temple of Zeus, she reflected on the wisdom of her father’s words.

Finis