Disclaimer recap: Whole lotta borrowin' goin' on. No harm intended to the original copyright holders. Violence: Disney. Subtext: By the end of this section, you should have the answer to that question. Chapter Six Friends and Enemies Gabrielle's longer legs enabled her to catch up with Salmone easily, but the crashing sounds were approaching with disturbing speed. Looking ahead into the dark distance of the tunnel, she knew that there was no chance of following it to an exit before the water came and swept them away. But there's always a chance, she thought. That's how the Labyrinth works. Suddenly her eye caught a darkness off to the left of the dwarf's light. She grabbed him and hauled him into it - an alcove. He struggled in panic. "Let me go!" "Look!" There was a metal ladder set into the alcove, leading up. No exit was visible overhead, but at least it gave them something to hold on to. Gabrielle let the shorter Salmone go first, then took hold and began the climb herself. It was awkward to climb holding a staff, and she had only gained a few rungs when a rushing torrent swept through the tunnel. Gabrielle hooked her elbow through the ladder and held on tightly. That grip and her sheltered position in the alcove kept her from being too badly buffeted as the water thundered in. Salmone's torch - amazingly, he hadn't lost it either - was too high to shed much light, but she thought she could see dark forms thrashing as they were swept by. There was still airspace at the top, but if the water kept coming and couldn't find a place to drain... "Move!" she called to the dwarf above. "What?" She guessed that was what he had said; it was difficult to hear over the water. "Climb!" she tried again, louder. "What?" "We have to get up..." But the flood was quieting. The water was less forceful and, yes, the level was dropping. A few minutes later, there were only puddles and drips to indicate its passage. Gabrielle blinked. "Well, that was fun." "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself!" Salmone said shakily. "Now get out of the way so I can get down." She stayed where she was. "This has to go somewhere..." She reached with her staff as high as she could over the dwarf's head and bumped into something solid. She pushed on it. It shifted. She braced and shoved harder. The resistance slid away - a lid? - and fell out of sight, landing with a clang as light splashed into the hole. "Oh, good," mumbled the dwarf. "A way out." He clambered up the last few rungs, then offered a hand to Gabrielle. She handed him her staff, then climbed the rest of the way herself, eager to see blue skies again, even if they were in a nasty, dark, confusing labyrinth. Her head cleared the opening. It was a garden. A formal garden, with neatly trimmed, perfectly straight hedges, and little white statues in the corners. The grass was a uniform height and shade of bright green. She wondered vaguely if it were artificial, and then decided that with all the strange things she'd seen already, grass that naturally grew to look fake was nothing special. The hatchway she was climbing out of was the top of a large ornamental urn, and a metal cover lay to the side where her staff had shoved it. She reclaimed the item from Salmone and began slapping water out of her clothing, as there wasn't enough spare fabric to wring without first taking it off. "Now do you believe me about the Queen?" grumbled the dwarf. "One wrong word and she has you drowned." "You're not even wet," Gabrielle pointed out. Since he had been above her on the ladder, he hadn't caught so much as the spray. "But we could have been killed!" he insisted. "If Xena wanted us dead, I'm sure she could do it easily enough," the girl said practically. "She was just making it more of a challenge, like she said. We probably would have been all right, even if the water had caught us. I can swim, after all." Salmone dropped the torch, still lit, down the hole, and watched it smack and sputter out against the wet tunnel floor below. "I hope you don't believe that the next time she tries something. You'll wind up dead." "She wouldn't hurt me," Gabrielle said without thinking, then paused. "That's funny. I don't know why, but I feel like I know that. Like I know her." "What does someone have to do to be your enemy, cut off your head?" "She wouldn't." The dwarf, still looking down the hole, ran a hand over his receding hair. "I can't swim," he said at last. "I don't think you could have saved us both." "Oh," she said faintly. "And she said she'd boil me." He straightened. "I can't take you any further. You're on your own from here." He spread his hands. "I'm sorry." "I..." she started, then nodded. "I don't want you to endanger yourself for me." She held out a hand. "Friends?" He shook it gently. "Friends." He pointed towards a gap in the hedges. "The castle's that way." She nodded again and set off. She did not look back. If she had, she would have seen a folorn Salmone standing beside the urn, twisting his robes miserably. Gabrielle made her way through the garden, turning and twisting dizzily here and there. It was hard to keep track of which direction she was supposed to be going. Dead ends kept throwing her off the track, and so many places looked alike. What if she were wandering in a giant circle? Should she have stayed in the tunnel and not taken the ladder? What if this were all a puzzle that Xena had set so that she would waste her remaining time? She shook her head. There was no point in driving herself silly worrying. She just had to do the best she could. Alley, turning, dead end, shrub, alley, on and on. Rounding one corner, she barely avoided walking directly into a statue that, for no apparent reason, had been placed in the middle of the walkway. She looked closely at the white stone. It was a woman, posed defiantly with her hand on her sword hilt. Could it be the Goblin Queen? The face, though determined, seemed so young. What would the dangerous tyrant that Salmone feared have been like as a young woman? What had brought her here, among the goblins? A terrible scream from somewhere nearby jolted her out of her thoughts. At first she glanced around wildly, fearing an attack from some swooping avian monster, but then, as the noise repeated, she realised that it sounded more pained than dangerous. Gabrielle gripped her staff, circled the statue, and made her way towards a gap in the hedge. Peeking cautiously through it, she saw a large tree with a very dirty man dangling from it. His left foot seemed to be caught in some sort of snare looped over the branch, so he was upside down and flailing wildly. Beneath him were three twisted little creatures in helmets and armor - goblins! - holding pointed sticks and poking at him, causing more yelps and swinging. Though the man waved his arms, he couldn't seem to hit them. Gabrielle reasoned that being upside down and spinning on a rope like that would probably upset anyone's aim. The man wore only some sort of fur covering, which apparently did little to protect him from the jabs of the goblins, who cackled as he howled. Gabrielle had seen enough. "Yaah!" she yelled, rushing towards the little figures. She swung her staff and, almost to her surprise, connected with one of the goblins' heads. His helmet spun around, leaving him staggering, but apparently unhurt. The goblins, though, perhaps afraid of someone so much taller than they, dropped their spears and fled chattering into the hedges. "Serves you right," she muttered. The man, still dangling, shrieked and waved his arms again. "Stop that!" she snapped at him. "Can't you see I'm trying to help?" His yelping quieted to a whimper. "Now, do you want me to get you down?" There was a moment of silence in which she wondered if he could speak at all, but finally, "Down," he said miserably. She nodded and reached for the rope, untying it from the tree. The man fell to the ground with a thump. She winced, realising she'd just dropped him on his head, but he seemed none the worse for wear. So to speak. He was filthy, but extremely pale under the dirt, and his hair was brown and wild. He climbed to his feet and grinned at her, looking more like a monkey than a man. "Friend." She nodded cautiously. "I'm Gabrielle. What's your name." "Me Attis," he said proudly. "Gabrielle friend." She smiled. "That's right. And I'm trying to get to the center of the Labyrinth. Do you know the way?" For a moment, his eyes lit up as if he would speak, but then, he shook his head sadly, and his shoulders slumped. Gabrielle sighed. "I wonder if anyone knows." Chapter Seven Slip of the Tongue Gabrielle walked past the hanging tree. Attis, still wincingly sore, followed. Behind the tree, the rough hedges led to a corner that was formed of stone walls, with two high doorways set in. The doorknob for each was round and smooth and set in the center of the door. No decorations distinguished them. She looked from one to another. "Well, Attis, which way should we go?" He grunted noncomittally. "Hrm." Gabrielle reached for the knob of the left door and tried to twist it. It didn't budge, but out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something moving. She released the doorknob and stepped back. "Who's there?" "Attis here," said her companion, confused. But Gabrielle was staring closely at the walls. There was something there... or rather, something not there, some disturbance in the air or the light, only noticeable when it moved. "Who are you?" "No one," whispered a faint voice. "Huh." Well, she didn't really have time to argue with someone who didn't feel like existing. She had to get through the Labyrinth. "Do you know where these doors go?" "No," whispered the voice, and the air shifted again. "I'm just the walls." "Don't you mean a wall?" "No," the voice corrected, getting fainter. "I'm the walls." And then it, and the rippling, was gone. Gabrielle frowned, but reached for the left doorknob again, pushing instead of turning. The door resisted, but slowly, she managed to shove it open. Cautiously, she put her head through the doorway. Giggles and splutters and some sort of clicking, tapping sound leaked to her ears, and she instinctively began to smile. She stepped through the doorway, not waiting for Attis. She was in a sunlit plaza, with hard stones underfoot. All around her, she could hear people laughing and singing and... dancing! Her legs began to twitch, her toes to tap. Before she knew it, she was stomping and waving her arms, spinning in circles, dancing frantically to some unheard music. Letting the spirit move her. Her staff flew from her grasp and clattered against the doorway. Gabrielle blinked. Dancing? She wasn't a dancer. She wasn't very good at it, and she certainly didn't tend to do it spontaneously. She stared in confusion at her hands and feet, which seemed to be under the control of someone else entirely. And she was moving too fast, burning too much energy. It was exhausting! Stop, she thought desperately. I'm getting dizzy. Stop. But she danced on. As she pranced and twisted and clapped, she caught sight of Attis, still standing in the doorway, watching her sadly. He stretched out a hand. By focusing hard on him, she managed to propel her dancing in his direction, until at last he could take hold and pull her back through. She collapsed in front of the doors, gasping for breath. It took her some time to recover. Attis watched over her anxiously, until she finally was able to stand up and give him a small smile. Luckily, her staff was close enough to the door that she could grab it without being caught again, then pull the door shut. "Guess that was the wrong door," she commented shakily. "Nothing to do but try the next." This door swung open easily, revealing a dark, forbidding forest. The darkness simply sprang up on the other side, regardless of the light on this side of the wall. Gabrielle stepped through and waited for Attis to join her. He followed reluctantly, and the door swung shut behind them. Gabrielle shivered. The sky was a dark and metallic gray, and the plants around didn't look healthy, and there was a decidedly unpleasant smell leeching into her senses. But still, things in the Labyrinth weren't always what they seemed. There was a path before her, so she took it, peering ahead into the gloom, hoping for any sign of where the castle might be. There was a tall tree before her. Maybe if she climbed it she could see. She began testing branches, and did not see the ground open up beneath Attis, swallowing him so quickly that he didn't even have a chance to cry out. Gabrielle took hold of the lowest branch and put her weight on it. It snapped off at her touch, dry and dead. The whole tree shuddered, and she stepped away quickly, afraid it might fall. Then she realised she was alone. "Attis?" she called, peering this way and that. "Attis?" No answer. The dead trees creaked and groaned. The darkness seemed to deepen. Frightened, she began to walk quickly, speeding into a jog, running away from this awful place. In the murk, she didn't see the twisted man until she stumbled right into him. She screamed. Back in the hedge maze, Salmone was wandering aimlessly, unable to decide whether he should flee the Labyrinth to avoid Xena's wrath, or go after Gabrielle, who probably needed his assistance. The faint scream froze him in his tracks. A second scream set him into motion. "I'm coming!" he called out. He rushed around a corner straight into a pair of knees. Xena was wearing her cloak and looking quite handsomely fiendish. "Well," she said pleasantly, "if it isn't you." "It isn't me," Salmone said, trembling. "And where are you going?" The dwarf stared at his reflection in the Queen's boots. "Nowhere." "Aren't you going to help her?" The voice sounded concerned, not mocking. He looked up. "If... if you wish it, your majesty?" Xena smiled warmly, her blue eyes glittering. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to our visitor, would we?" "N-no." "And you know I wouldn't hurt her. In fact..." With a wave of her left hand, Xena produced a crystal bubble from the air. She tossed it to Salmone, who found a red plum in his hand. "I have a present for her." He looked at the fruit. "What is it?" "A gift, nothing more." Her smile was once again dangerously edged. "And you will do as I say. Give her the fruit." In miserable obedience, Salmone nodded. "And Salmone," the Queen added. "If she ever kisses you, I'll drop you in the Boiling Lake." The creature that had leaped out in front of Gabrielle was more startled than she was, and matched her scream with one of his own. Looking at him, she could not decide if "creature" or "man" was more fitting, for while there was certainly a basic human-ness about him, it was something like a human painted by Picasso. His head was swiveled around the wrong direction and tilted back, his body was all bumps and angles, and he had entirely too many fingers. "What's happening?" he demanded. Gabrielle opened and closed her mouth helplessly. There had just been too many of these crazy encounters. She had run out of words. "Now cut that out," said a female voice. Gabrielle turned to see a thin woman with green eyes and brown hair with her hands behind her back. She looked entirely normal - and then she turned. She was scratching her own back, and reaching areas that Gabrielle was sure she couldn't manage without dislocating something. The thin woman sighed with pleasure. More misshapen figures were materializing in the gloom. "What do you want?" Gabrielle asked, staff ready but not yet threatening. "Woohoo!" one replied. "We're just out to have FUN!" Laughter echoed around. "Oh," she said, confused. "I see." "Come and join the party!" And she found herself being pulled along to a clearing where a bonfire was roaring. The twisted people were clumped in groups of two or three - or more - giggling and twining together in the most fantastic ways. Gabrielle caught herself staring and jerked her attention back to the flames. She had never imagined a girl's leg could hook around like that. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see a man sitting on a boulder with his legs crossed behind his head. "Hey, sister," he said, "you gotta get *loose*. You gotta *bend* a little." "Thanks, I'm fine." "How can you be fine, all straight like that?" asked a voice at her feet. She couldn't tell if the figure was male or female, but its legs and arms were bent the wrong way beneath it. "You don't wanna be straight, do you? You don't wanna be uptight? You wanna party!" "I - " "Here, let us help. We can bend you!" giggled a group of girls tied in a knot. "I have to be going!" Gabrielle cried, and set off running again. Those people were crazy! They'd break her bones if they tried those things with her. She thought she could hear crashing sounds behind her as she traveled. Were they following her? And then, suddenly, there was a wall in her path, too high to climb. She slapped a hand against it in frustration. A rope tickled her nose. "Grab it!" Salmone yelled from overhead. She did, wondering how on earth she was going to climb a rope in a skirt holding a staff. But once again, the dwarf's surprising strength kicked in, and he pulled her up himself and helped her clamber over the battlements. They were standing on the top of a turret. To either side of them the stone platform of the Great Goblin Wall ran as far as she could see, rising and falling, turning, crenellated all the way, turreted at regular intervals. She turned to face Salmone. "You came back!" she said warmly. She threw her arms around him. The dwarf, horrified, tried to brush her away, but she leaned over and planted a kiss on his head. The earth opened beneath them. Chapter Eight Troubled Waters The paving stones on which they were standing flipped open like trapdoors and precipitated them into a dark chute. They skidded helplessly down it. The chute skittered them down to a sort of vent, and they tumbled out of it onto a narrow ledge, about halfway up the immense inside face of the Great Goblin Wall. Salmone spat out first, landing sideways, and as a result, rolling over the edge. Gabrielle, arriving just behind him, luckily landed on her feet, and was immediately thrown forward onto her hands and knees, where she lost hold of her staff but was just able to grab Salmone's hand before he dropped. With her help, he managed to scramble back up to that precarious perch. Then, with the momentary crisis out of the way, they noticed the heat. Looking down, they could see, far below them, a vast lake, its surface rippled by bubbling and distorted by the waves of steam rising above it. If we fell into that, Gabrielle reasoned, we'd be cooked in a trice. The ledge that the two of them were standing on was narrow, but the pathway that it connected to was even more so. Worse, some of the stones that made it up were clearly unstable, and others had fallen away. It was not a pleasant prospect for travel, but unfortunately, going back was impossible. Salmone sighed. "I wish you hadn't done that." "What, rescue you?" She was bewildered. "No. You kissed me." "Oh. Sorry," she said, wondering why it bothered him, but making a note not to do it again. Gabrielle picked up her staff and eyed the pathway. She really ought to have both hands free to try and travel that, in case she had to hold on to something. But the old stick had come so far with her already, she hated to leave it behind. She was spared from making that decision when the ledge the two of them were standing on collapsed. Gabrielle landed on something furry, and then, "WHOOF!", Salmone landed on top of her. A few rocks from the broken ledge hailed onto their heads. "Ow!" someone wailed. "Attis?" Gabrielle gasped. The three of them disentangled themselves and stood. They were on a little shoal beside the lake which had been hidden by the ledge. The heat, at this distance, was mildly uncomfortable, but not intolerable. She quickly made introductions. "Attis, this is Salmone, Salmone, this is Attis. You're friends." "Friend?" Attis asked. The dwarf looked up at the dirty wild fellow. "Yeah, sure." Gabrielle looked around. To one side, the land dead-ended between the lake and the wall, to the other, it rose upwards in a steep hill. Further on, she could see a bridge leading over to another forest. Whatever madness might be there, it was better than trying to wade in that scalding water. She took the lead, and they began the ascent, Gabrielle grateful for her staff, as it was hard walking. Eventually they approached the bridge, with the water once again a safe distance beneath them. It was not a very wide gap, possibly close enough for a good jumper to cross without the bridge. Which, she noted glumly, wouldn't be a bad idea - the wood looked very old and rickety. They were only a few steps away when a figure ran out from behind a nearby stack of stones. "Stop!" she said authoritatively. She was short, the top of her head just level with Gabrielle's nose. Her hair was dirty blond and curly. She wore a sleeveless top, skirt, boots, and a decorative metal arm bracelet. In her right hand, she held a spear. All together, she gave the impression of someone who was used to being obeyed. Gabrielle had had it with challenges and obstacles. "Get out of our way, we're crossing the bridge." "No one may pass." Gabrielle sighed and decided to try the friendly approach. "Hi. I'm Gabrielle. Who are you?" The woman bowed. "I am Eppie of the Amazon guard, my lady." "Aren't you a little short for an Amazon?" Eppie pulled herself to her full height. "I may not be tall, but I am fully capable of performing my duties." And she whirled into motion, twirling and feinting with the spear, demonstrating that she would be quite a lot of trouble if she decided that they were enemies. "Go," pouted Attis. He shuffled his feet sulkily. "We really do need to get across this bridge," said Salmone, and then, reluctantly, "I'll give you a gold piece for it, but that's my final offer!" "No one may pass." "Well, someone must be allowed to pass, or what's the point of having a bridge?" Gabrielle asked. "No one may pass until my mission is fulfilled," Eppie clarified. "Well, then, what's your mission?" "I await the arrival of the Amazon Princess." "But I *am* the Amazon Princess!" Eppie looked closely at Gabrielle. "Why, so you are!" She bowed again. "I am at your service, your highness." "Good. Now, we have to get across this bridge." Indeed, now that the guard's attentions were distracted, Salmone was scuttling across it. "Of course, my lady!" And Eppie, too, crossed the bridge, light on her feet and completely unconcerned. Gabrielle turned back to look at Attis, who shook his head. "Attis wait." So she eased herself out onto the rickety span. The wood creaked and shifted beneath her. The only thing that kept her moving forward was the knowledge that she really had no other choice. But as Attis eyed the bridge suspiciously, chunks of mooring broke away, falling into the seething waters below. The bridge suddenly sagged and swayed. Gabrielle looked back and forth in terror and then launched herself forward in a leap for the other side. She didn't make it. The bridge crumbled beneath her. Gabrielle was dangling in mid-air, her staff wedged between the two sides of the gap. Well, she thought fearfully, that water can't *really* be boiling, I'm not getting steam burns, so maybe I'll be okay here... The staff, which was, after all, nothing more than an old broomstick, began to give. "HELP!" Gabrielle yelled. The wild-haired man stepped up to the edge. "Attis call rock brothers!" He began to howl. Eppie eyed him warily. "Got any rope?" she asked Salmone. "Not anymore," he said, worried. Attis' noises continued as Gabrielle's staff slipped further. Then, with a grinding noise, the faces of the hills themselves began to change. Rock outcroppings grew beneath Gabrielle's feet, and as the broomstick snapped in half, she landed safely on a new rock bridge. Almost as an afterthought, handholds developed on either side, for ease of climb. She scampered up to the other side. "That's amazing!" Attis ceased his howling and took a few steps back, then ran and leaped across the gap. He grinned foolishly at her. "How did you do that?" Eppie asked. "Rocks friends." Gabrielle felt oddly defenseless without the old stick. "Well," she sighed, "we don't have much time left. We'd better get going." "Right away, my lady!" agreed Eppie. "Where are we going?" "To the castle at the center of the Labyrinth. But you don't have to come." "Of course I do! If you're braving that castle, you most certainly need a guard." Gabrielle couldn't argue with that. "Do you know the way!" "I do indeed." "At last," she sighed. "Someone who knows." She rubbed her growling stomach. "I just wish we had time to stop and hunt for lunch, but maybe we'll pass some berries or something." At this, Salmone, lingering at the back of the group, knew the time had come. Whether the Queen had meant it as a gift or something more sinister, she had proved that she was watching - that fall after the kiss had been no accident - and she had insisted that he deliver her present. He forced himself to think positively. Gabrielle trusted Xena, after all. The dwarf dug the plum out of a pouch. "Here you go." He offered her his hand. In it Gabrielle saw the most luscious fruit, so rich and ripe and tantalizingly juicy that it appeared to be glowing, so large and delicious that they could each have a mouthful. "Salmone, you're a lifesaver," she said gratefully, taking the fruit. She wondered if perhaps she should offer it first to the others, but Salmone was watching her expectantly, and the scent was beautiful... the plum was almost too lovely to spoil. But that was what fruit was for, wasn't it? Her teeth sank into its flesh. The taste was beyond description. "Heaven," she murmured past the juices. And then the world began to spin around her. She staggered dizzily against a tree. "Everything's dancing..." In a strangled voice, Salmone cried out, "Damn you, Xena! What have you done?" Chapter Nine In Your Eyes Xena rolled a crystal ball between her fingers, the smooth sphere flicking in and out, catching and twisting the light. With a flick of her wrist she sent it into the air, where it hung and swirled like a soap bubble before drifting on its way, turning and gleaming out, into the dying light of dusk. Gabrielle was still leaning limply against the tree, too dizzy to move, when the bubble descended from the sky to hover before her. The crystal seemed to capture the light, set it dancing within, and she could hear music, slow and stately, but tinkly, like a music box. A music box with a woman on top of it, in a fancy gown. Eppie and Attis had reached the edge of the forest and were looking out across a bare plain to the walls of the castle. "There it is, your highness!" stated the Amazon. There was no response. "Your highness?" She turned to look. There was no sign of Gabrielle. Only a glass ball floating off into the distance. Shoes. White shoes. With flowers beaded onto the toes. They move. I am wearing these shoes, Gabrielle thought. Why am I looking at my shoes? She shifted in place, and then again, listening to the rustling sounds of silk. The skirt was a pink so pale it could hardly be distinguished from cream. She smoothed the material with hands covered by white gloves, and adjusted the pink pearl bracelet. She looked up. The ballroom's size was hard to judge, distorted by reflections. Between glittering cornices were hung many long chandeliers where the dripping wax had formed stalactites. The silk drapery of the walls was faded in places, but covered over with webs of golden thread. Hanging crystalline bubbles decorated the room. A tall, gilt, thirteen-hour clock stood in a corner. It was almost twelve o'clock. A hand touched hers. She turned to see a young woman, about her own age, in a bandeau top connected to a choker by three strands of beads, an exotically colored waistband, and a black satin skirt. Her black evening gloves were cuffed with the material of the waistband and beaded fringe hung from their length. Her skin was dusky and her eyes as gold as the hoops that dangled from her ears, her hair black and up in a high twist wrapped around with chains of turquoise. She spoke not a word, but bowed her head respectfully to Gabrielle, then spun off into the dance. The dance was already in progress. There were men with silken shirts open to the waist and tight velvet breeches, faces hidden behind golden half-masks of cats and other creatures. Some wore wide hats with plumes, others boasted capes or canes. There were women in gowns of every color and style. One there in deep purple silk and veil, with clusters of golden bracelets on her arms, another in teal green taffeta and lace, one in burgundy with golden roses and a little tiara with curls escaping to frame her face, another with a one-shouldered gown of sparkling midnight blue and a Japanese flower in her upswept hair. There were men and women in brightly colored leotards and glittered body paint, and others in outfits of tight, shining black. The pairings were male to male and female to female as often as not, as the patterns of the dance wove in and out. Those who were not dancing lounged against the decorative columns, or reclined on cushions, or fed from trays of fruit offered them by quiet maids and footmen, or watched, and watched each other watching. Many covered their faces with the little half-masks, and their smiles were sharp as knives. Gabrielle, in innocent pink, was the focus of much attention. But she did not sense the eyes that watched her over their fans. She walked slowly around the edge of the room and paused to look at her own image in a tall mirror, lightly touching the pearl earrings. Behind her, the dancers swirled and swayed. Then she saw something that made her gasp: the reflection of Xena, dancing with a tall blonde in a sleeveless tea-length black gown, a woman with an imperious sneer that seemed to be directed at Gabrielle. She whirled around, but the couple was gone, lost in the crowd. She craned her neck this way and that, so intent on her search that she did not sense the figure's approach until, once again, there was a touch on her hand. "You are very beautiful, my lady," murmured a rich alto. Gabrielle turned, surprised, to see a masked woman in the loose shirt and tight pants that so many of the men were wearing. The curves of her breasts were displayed by the open fabric. She tossed her head back and laughed at Gabrielle's expression, then melted into the crowd again. Gabrielle was tense now, self-conscious, among people she could not understand but who behaved as though they knew something that she didn't. She moved hurriedly around the ballroom, searching for Xena. She did not know why she wanted to find her, or what she would say to her. She just knew that it was vitally important that she did. Another dancer in French lace caught her eyes, smiling knowingly and licking her lips, slowly, with the tip of her tongue. Gabrielle blushed and looked away in embarassment. She found herself looking into another tall mirror. Behind her she saw Xena, standing alone. She was a resplendent figure in a midnight blue frock coat, diamanté at the neck, shoulders, and cuffs, with pale gray silk at her throat and wrists. She held a horned mask on a stick, but away from her eyes, lowered to look straight at Gabrielle in the mirror. Around her, the dancers whirled. She held out her hand. Gabrielle turned, half afraid that the woman of the mirror would no longer be there. But there she stood, hand outstretched, dazzling but not quite intimidating. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to be in her arms, swept into the circles of the dance, Xena leading - I suppose a Goblin Queen outranks an Amazon Princess, she thought dizzily. The hands that touched her body were strong and sure and sent warmth all through her. The ground seemed far away. "You are beautiful," Xena murmured huskily. Cheeks burning, "I feel... I feel like I'm in a dream... but I don't remember ever dreaming anything like this." The Queen chuckled fondly. "I think you can find a way into the part," and whirled her on around the room. You are so much more than beautiful, Gabrielle thought, lost in those amazingly blue eyes. How can I tell you that? And more than that, there was a depth in Xena, a sense that she was truly feeling and enjoying the moment, not going through the motions like so many of the painted dancers. "And when you've found a way in, stay in your dream," Xena's eyes were looking straight into hers. "Abandon it, and you will be at the mercy of someone else's dream. They will make you into what they want you to be. Forget them, Gabrielle. Believe in your dream." Gabrielle was spellbound. "Believe in me," Xena said, bringing her face close. "Can you do that?" She nodded, and looked up with anticipation. She was going to kiss her. Gabrielle closed her eyes. That was the way to do it. Something made her open her eyes again. It was the silence. The music had stopped. They were surrounded by other dancers, leering and giggling at them. Annoyed, Gabrielle slipped free of Xena's grasp. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. This wasn't the way the story went. The clock struck twelve. Gabrielle felt like Cinderella at the ball. Something was wrong, horribly wrong, although she couldn't remember what. She had to get out of there. She began to push her way through the crowd, not looking back at the Goblin Queen. Jeering faces melted around her. She stumbled towards the edge of the room and into the shimmering membrance of the giant bubble. Beside her was a small wooden chair. She picked it up in both hands and swung it at the smooth surface. The chair crashed through it. As the bubble burst, Gabrielle was flung outwards into darkness.