Burn me with your touch,
that's what I want so much
Can't you see it in my eyes?
My eyes are wide open
But I'm too blind to see
I just don't know what I need.

CHORUS
I want to feel your passion
I want to make it burn
Don't tell me I'm too late
I don't think I can wait.

I fell too hard and too long ago
I can't go back now, I don't know how
Baby, burn me with your touch
Yell and scream
Love me hate me just don't ignore me
You burn me through

CHORUS

Burn me, scar me
Kill me, thrill me
I can't live without you
I don't remember how
Burn me, mark me
Tell the world I'm yours.

CHORUS

Clanking ahead of them in his armor, Joxer slowly glanced over his shoulder. His wide, questioning eyes met Gabrielle's before he quickly jerked back around and clattered down the dirt road with more speed than before. He turned just in time to run face-first into low-hanging tree branch; with a yelp, he grabbed his nose and hurried past.

Gabrielle sighed, ducked under the branch and glanced up at Xena. "He's doing it again. Looking at me. I wish he'd just stop."

"He loves you," Xena replied absently, her typical response nowadays to Gabrielle's complaints of their clumsy companion. She slipped smoothly off Argo's back and automatically adjusted her wide pace to match her friend's.

Gabrielle knew exactly where this conversation would end, as it always did. She'd complain how Joxer never gave her a moment's rest; he had not said a word about his feelings since that day in the chakram temple, but his eyes followed her everywhere.

Then Xena would say something wise and totally annoying, like 'Joxer's only curious of what you feel for him. I would be, too, if I were him.' And then Gabrielle would respond, 'But he said he didn't want me to say anything.' Xena: 'That doesn't mean he doesn't deserve a response.'

Eventually, the discussion would end in silence, with Gabrielle no closer to a solution of how to handle this delicate situation. She didn't love Joxer, that much she knew with absolute certainty, but his friendship had warmed many cold days. She didn't want to hurt him with rejection.

So, Gabrielle silently vowed not to answer Xena, which would carry on the conversation they'd had almost every day since Joxer's confession. Up ahead, Joxer glanced back, his cheeks blossoming into bright red when he found himself caught looking once again.

Gabrielle sighed.

Forgetting her earlier promise, she asked, "What do you think he wants from me?"

Xena shrugged. "Why don't you ask him?"

"But --"

"Gabrielle, listen to me," Xena began, her voice assuming a commanding tone. "This problem belongs to you and Joxer, and you'll have to work it out. Together."

Gabrielle recognized Xena's firm expression, the one that indicated she would accept no more excuses. Xena raised her dark eyebrows and stared down at her expectantly.

"All right," Gabrielle said finally. "I'll talk to him."

"Good."

They walked in silence for awhile, Gabrielle biting back her complaints every time Joxer twisted around. That made five times in the past hour alone that he'd looked at her. Their talk, she promised herself, would have to come soon.

"So, um, Xena?" she asked, "Where are we going?"

A small smile crossed Xena's lips. "Tired of talking about Joxer?"

Gabrielle shot her a dirty look.

Xena's smile widened, and she lifted her hands as if to ward off the evil eye. "I'm just asking."

"Please, Xena," Gabrielle pleaded, "just answer my question."

The smile vanished in a heartbeat, and her voice became strained as she answered. "I haven't been in these parts for years, not since before I met Hercules. There's village close to here that my army invaded. They wouldn't hand over their gold and food, so we took it."

Gabrielle licked her lips nervously. She never enjoyed listening to stories of Xena before her conversion. "Did people die?"

"Yes."

"And we're going there, why? So you can torture yourself with bad memories?"

"So I can apologize," Xena said quietly. "So I can ask if there's anything I can do to make up, in small way, for what I did."

Silence descended once again, with both women deep in their thoughts. Gabrielle worried for Xena's state of mind, her eyes frequently straying to her friend's stony face. She didn't know what to say.

The sun dipped low in the sky as Xena and Gabrielle, with Joxer in the lead, left the forest and followed the narrow road as it wound through fields of wheat. They spoke not a word as they entered a small village, and Xena's expression became darker.

It seemed a typical town --several small houses, a tavern and a general store -- but she knew Xena saw with different eyes. She saw houses on fire and villagers screaming and running to nowhere; she saw her bloody sword slicing through another unarmed man. No power in all the universe would ever rid her of her nightmare visions.

They caught up to Joxer, who had stopped in front of the town store and was looking about in confusion. "Hey, guys," he said, "did you notice that there's something wrong with this place? There aren't any people."

Only then did Gabrielle realize he was correct. Not one person walked the streets, and all doors and window shutters were closed, probably locked, too. She could hear the wind rustle through the nearby wheat fields, and she shuddered. This silence was eery.

"Xena?" Gabrielle prompted quietly.

"They're probably shy of strangers." Xena set Argo's reins in Joxer's hands. "Gabrielle and I are going into the store. We need supplies, and we need information. Joxer, you stay out here and watch Argo."

Joxer nodded, then, realizing what Xena had said, began to shake his head furiously. "I don't think I want to stay out here by myself. It's not right here."

Xena layed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll be back in a minute."

Joxer gulped nervously, but he nodded. Gabrielle followed Xena as she strode determinedly into the store. Dust coated every shelf and table; it seemed as though the windows hadn't been opened in years. And like the rest of the town, this building seemed desserted -- except for a pudgy man behind the counter who was pointing a crossbow at them.

Xena saw him first, reaching for her chakram but not yet drawing it from her belt. Gabrielle, put on alert by Xena's reaction, turned abuptly, ready to dodge a crossbow bolt should the man choose to shoot.

"You're not welcome here," he said, his gruff voice low and dangerous.

Xena sighed and slowly crossed toward the counter, raising her hands away from her weapons. "My name is Xena."

"I know who you are -- I'll never forget your face. I remember well enough how your men killed my wife. I held her in my arms as she bled her life into the dirt."

Xena stopped her advance. Gabrielle noticed a slight tremor shiver through her body. "I'm sorry," she said. "I -- I'm very sorry."

"Sorry won't bring them back," the man spat.

"Neither will killing me," Xena said softly. "The pain won't go away if you do. It will grow, until you can't stand it anymore. And you'll search out another victim, and another, until one day when the pain owns you and you find that you can't stop. Now is the time to let it go."

With a snort, the shopkeeper lowered the crossbow. "Oh don't worry, Xena, I won't kill you or your friend, not unless you attack me. But I do want you out of town. This is the festival of Pyros, and I wouldn't want the priests to even think about giving you the honor. That'd be too much to bear after what you've done to us."

Gabrielle stepped forward, unable to keep quiet any longer. "Festival? Then why are the streets empty?"

"No one must leave their homes until the priests choose," he said, not even looking at Gabrielle. His eyes fixed unwaveringly on Xena. "You shouldn't be here."

Xena shook her head. "All we want are supplies, and then we'll be on our way."

Gabrielle walked up to the counter, set her hands on the flat-top and leaned closer to the man, to catch his attention. "What do you mean that the priests choose?"

The shopkeeper shrugged. "The priests of Pyros will choose a new vessel for the great god, who will inhabit that body for the next 100 years. It's a great honor to be picked. The Chosen One will be taken to the temple, and the ceremony will end before sundown tomorrow. Then the celebrations begin."

"Pyros. He's the god of ..."

"Fire."

"The god of fire," Gabrielle mused. She turned to her friend. "Xena, could we stay and watch? This sounds really interesting."

Xena shook her head. "Not a chance. I don't want you or Joxer getting 'chosen.'"

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself. It's Joxer you should be worried -- Joxer!"

She dashed from the counter and out the shop door, raising an enormous dust cloud in her passing. She didn't notice. All she could think of was leaving Joxer outside with Argo, alone. If priests really were combing the town, searching for a Chosen One, they might have found him, and he wouldn't be able to defend himself.

Just outside the door, Argo stomped his hooves impatiently and snorted. But Argo was alone. Gabrielle's worst fear had become reality: Joxer had vanished. She looked up and down the street, but nowhere did she see him.

They had him. She just knew it. A sob rose in her throat.

A hand against the back of her shoulder startled her, and she simultaneously yelled, drew her knives and turned to confront whoever stood behind her. As she twisted around, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a flash of light against metal and heard the clatter of armor crashing to the ground.

"Joxer!"

Gabrielle dropped her weapons and fell down beside him, gathering him into a hug. He was really here, she assured herself. No one took him. He's here. He's OK.

"You're OK," she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine. Gabby, are you OK? You looked a little worried when you came running out of the store. Did you forget something? I mean, I can help you find it if you want me to."

Gabrielle raised her face to look sternly into his eyes. "Don't ever do that again. Do you hear me? I thought they had taken you."

His eyes widened, and his mouth worked silently for a moment before he choked out his words. His face was turning an unusually bright shade of red. "Who took me? Oh, I was just leaning against the outside of the store waiting for you and Xena."

Gabrielle suddenly realized she had draped her body across him, and they were both lying in the dirt. With a slight blush, she sat up and brushed the dust from her top. She couldn't bring herself to meet his questioning gaze. "Just stay close over the next few days, OK? Xena and I don't want you being possessed by any gods."

He furrowed his brows under his helmet and assumed his normal, confused expression, but he just nodded. "Um, sure, Gabby. Whatever you want."

"And don't," she said, sticking a finger in his chest for emphasis, "say anything to Xena about me ... um, well ..."

"Jumping on top of me?"

"Don't tell Xena. You understand?"

"Tell me what?"

Gabrielle blushed and grimaced as she heard familiar footsteps stop directly behind her. "Ah, nothing." She looked up at Xena and smiled weakly. "I found Joxer."

Xena looked decidedly amused. "Good. You two can grope in the dirt later, but right now we have to go. I want to be out of town by dark."

Gabrielle scrambled to her feet, blushing more brightly. "I thought you wanted to hang around her for awhile and apologize to the villagers."

"I do, and I will," Xena said as she loaded their new supplies into Argo's saddle bags. "But this is not the right time for it. We'll camp outside of town and come back when this festival is over. I think we can all use a few days rest anyway."

Gabrielle followed Xena and Joxer up the road and into the forest, this time taking the rear position so she could watch Joxer instead of the other way around for a change. She still felt a blush heat her cheeks when she thought about jumping Joxer like she did. Why had she done that? Why had she been so panicked at the thought of the priests taking him? Having a god inside his body might be an improvement.

That night, they sat silently around the campfire. They ate some cheese and bread Xena had bought from the shopkeeper, but they spoke not a word. Gabrielle figured Xena must be thinking about the town and what the shopkeeper had said; Joxer probably was wondering how best to get Gabrielle to jump on him again. And Gabrielle, well, she knew she had to talk to Joxer, but she didn't know how to begin. So she stared into the fire and said nothing.

At some point, Joxer produced his lyre from his pack and played softly, letting his fingers roam randomly across the strings. The tuneless song lulled Gabrielle into a half-awake state; as she laid on her blanket, she thought blearly about what a wonderful musician Joxer would make. The music washed over her and accompanied her into sleep.

When Joxer awoke the next morning, something was wrong. He could feel it, deep in his bones, that something bad had happened.

He blinked a few times to clear his vision and looked around the campsite. His lyre was propped against his stomach -- he's probably fallen asleep while playing again. Xena still lay sleeping on her blanket; that in itself seemed strange because she always awoke before Joxer.

He had a bitter taste in his mouth, and he couldn't quite shake himself awake.

He stumbled over to Argo and fumbled through the saddle bags until he found a water bottle. Pulling out the cork, he poured a liberal amount over his face, the cold shock finally waking him completely.

Well, then, he thought, time for breakfast. He'd wake Xena and Gabrielle, and then ...

Wait.

Where was Gabrielle?

Her blanket lay rumpled on the ground, exactly where she'd fallen asleep the night before. Maybe she'd woken up early and left in search of a stream to take a bath or something. Yeah, that had to be it. She'd be back soon.

So Joxer wandered to where Xena still lay snoring, curled up on one side, her hair fanned around her like a black halo. He kneeled beside her and shook her shoulder lightly; she mumbled and fell alseep again. Joxer shook her again, harder this time.

He almost expected her to jump up with chakram in hand, her usual reaction when awoken hastily. She only rolled to a sitting position and rubbed her eyes, her hair falling in tangled disarray around her face.

"Water?" she croaked.

Joxer obediently handed her the flask. She held it to her lips, but before she could drink, she froze.

"Joxer, do you have a ... bitter taste in your mouth?"

"Yeah, but I figured it was just a waking-up thing."

"No, it's not," Xena muttered. "It tastes like we've been ... drugged." She looked around blearily. "Where's Gabrielle?"

Joxer shrugged. "I donno. She wasn't here when I woke up."

"Who could have drugged us?" She groaned and fell back against her blanket.

Joxer screwed up his face in thought for a moment. "That cheese we had last night tasted a little funny."

Xena snapped her fingers. "I bought that food from at the shop yesterday. But we must have been drugged for a reason. ... If only I could clear my head and think straight." She closed her eyes in concentration.

"Here, maybe this will help," Joxer said, and he upturned the water flask over Xena's head.

A strangled gasp escaped her lips, and her eyes grew about three times bigger than usual. As Joxer finished, he gulped and backed away -- one never knew what reaction the Warrior Princess might have to being doused. Instead of coming after Joxer, she sat perfectly still, water dripping off her long black locks, and turned her head slowly to face Gabrielle's blanket.

Xena's eyes cleared instantly. She jumped to her feet, gathered their supplies and had Argo's bags packed almost before Joxer could stand. "Come on, Joxer. We're leaving now."

"But what about Gabrielle?"

"She was taken. I didn't notice before, but you see how the leaves are trampled around Gabrielle's sleeping space, and how a few of the twigs on that tree there are snapped?"

Joxer looked. He couldn't see a difference, but he nodded anyway.

"We're going to follow them, and we're going to get Gabrielle back. Before we lose her forever to the god of fire."

A shudder wracked Joxer's body. He followed Xena into the forest, trusting that she knew where she was going. He only thought about how good it felt as Gabrielle had hugged him, her body close against him. If anyone hurt his Gabrielle, they'd pay.

Gabrielle understood little of what was happening to her. Her head felt stuffed with cotton; she couldn't focus on anything long enough to form a coherent thought. All that came to her were sensations for which the words escaped her.

Dark. The word floated to the surface of her consciousness, but it brought no meaning. It slipped away again before she could remember what it meant.

Pain. Dull, constant pain through her whole body. Every breath hurt, and she could feel each heartbeat pound through her arms and legs, in her clouded head. Yet the pain remained only a feeling, one she could not explain or even name.

In such a state did Gabrielle spend that night and most of the next day. Once, the fog in her mind began to clear long enough for her to notice that she lay stomach-down across a saddle, and the saddle was attached to a beast -- a horse -- that walked forward slowly. Her pain centered around her wrists and ankles, which were bound in rope and tied to the saddle.

Blurry figures surrounded her, moving constantly. Some she vaguely recognized as human because they touched her and spoke to each other in words that sounded frustratingly familiar but she could not follow.

Then, her mind cleared a bit more and she understood.

"Are you sure this is the right one?" a voice asked.

"Oh, yes," answered another. "She is young and strong. Her body will serve the lord well for many decades to come."

"He has not taken a female body for five hundred years. He might become angry that we have chosen this one. She is not even a believer."

"Are you questioning my authority?"

"Oh, no, sir. No, sir."

Gabrielle tried to lift her head to see the speakers, but her neck muscles refused to obey. She struggled harder, concentrating totally on movement ...

"Sir, look. The girl. She's coming out of it."

"Well, give her some more, then. We can't have her running off to rejoin her friends, can we?"

A blurry figured pressed something soft against her nose and mouth. Gabrielle weakly attempted to move away but failed. She felt suffocated. She had to breathe. She gasped in ragidly, smelled bitter, sharp fumes as they entered her body. The clouds in her mind thickened, and then she blacked out.

Next thing she knew, she was lying on something soft, a bed. She smelled something both acrid and sweet, all at once, and she rolled away from it, determined this time to keep her consciousness, however foggy it might be.

A hand gently grabbed her chin and held her face in place, and the smell returned in force. Gabrielle coughed and broke away from the hand, sitting up slowly. She opened her eyes, and the world spun. She suddenly felt very motion sick.

"Careful," said a young voice. "If you get up too fast you'll pass out."

"What?" she muttered, a gutteral word that came only half-formed on her numb lips. She hated the sound.

Something was pressed into her hand. "Here. Hold this to your nose and breathe in the fumes. It should clear your mind."

Gabrielle couldn't quite lift her arm, so the gentle hands wrapped around her wrist and lifted it to her face. The acrid fumes came back, but this time, she didn't pull away. She breathed deeply, and slowly felt her control of her own body return. The hands slowly left her wrists, but she didn't drop whatever she held to her nose.

She opened her eyes again, and this time the world held steady. A young man, no more than 14 or 15 years old, hovered over her. His sandy blond hair fell in an unruly mess around his narrow face. He had dressed in a bright red robe that obviously was too big for him because the sleeves slipped down too far and completely swallowed his hands.

Gabrielle looked at her own hand, which held a small bottle of crystals. She gave it to the young man with a nod of thanks. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"My name is Dolan. I'm training to be a prist of Pyros. I usually work in the library, but everyone else is so busy preparing for the ritual that they asked me to come get you ready," he said. "Oh, and this is the temple of the great god." He picked up a bundle of white cloth from a table by the bed and shook it out, revealing a robe. "You need to put this on for the ritual."

Gabrielle shook her head. "Oh, no, you are not sacrificing me to any gods."

Dolan cocked his head in confusion. "What do you mean sacrifice? It's a great honor to be the Chosen One."

"Think about it for a second," Gabrielle said. "You're asking me to give up my body for all time to a guy whose favorite past-time is arson."

"But Pyros brings warmth and light to the world. Where would we be without the gift of fire?"

"Yeah, well, which to do you think he enjoys more: destruction or giving warmth?"

Dolan shrugged, laying the robe beside Gabrielle.

"What does a god want with a mortal body, anyway?" Gabrielle asked.

"Pyros is one of the four elemental gods: fire, water, air and earth. Pyros' true form is that of a flame. You see, the elementals are different from normal gods because they can't take human form and walk among us unless their power is harnessed in a body." As he spoke, Dolan gestured wildly, obviously excited about explaining all this to an unbeliever. "So every one hundred years, he takes a new body so he can walk unnoticed among the people of our world."

"But why me?"

Dolan shrugged. "I don't know. I guess the priests thought you would be a good match."

Gabrielle leaned forward, latching her earnest gaze on her young guard. "I don't want to do this, Dolan. I have to live my life as me. Please, help me get out of here."

Dolan looked sympathetic. "I wish I could. You seem like a nice person. But I can't. You see, the head priest is my father, and he'd never forgive me if I let you go."

Gabrielle glanced up at the boy, who returned her gaze with an expression of pity. He shouldn't be too difficult a guard to escape from, she thought. She'd been in much worse situations than this -- although she'd also had full command of her body, as well.

Yes, for escape to succeed, she had to get around Dolan to the chamber door. From there, she'd keep hidden and sneak out of this place, this temple. Shouldn't be too difficult.

She struggled slowly to a standing position; her legs wobbled uncertainly, and her knees promptly collapsed under her weight, dropping her heavily to the bedside once again.

Dolan stood by her side in a moment. "Don't try to stand, or you could hurt yourself. You won't have your strength back for several hours."

Gabrielle shot him a whithering look. "I'm getting out of here if I have to crawl," she spat. "I will not wait around for your stupid ritual to turn me into a fire-spouting monster."

Dolan blinked, opened his mouth and clamped it shut again. His confusion may have seemed almost cute to Gabrielle, had he not been holding her here against her will.

Then the chamber door opened, and Gabrielle's hopes of escape slipped through her fingers like water. Dolan twisted around, made some strangled noises when he saw the man framed in the doorway and dropped to his knees.

The man carried an air of confidence, a strange counterpoint to his short, pudgy body, only barely hidden under his voluminous red robes. He looked sternly at the boy on the floor. Something about him nagged at Gabrielle's clouded memory -- something important.

The man puffed out his chest and looked between Gabrielle and Dolan with a well-creased frown. "Why is she not prepared."

"Forgive me, Father," Dolan said meekly. "She refused to put on the robes."

"You job, initiate, was to prepare the Chosen One for the ritual of assention. This is a simple task, and you failed."

Dolan shuddered. "I'm sorry, Father."

"Master," the man prompted softly.

"I -- I'm sorry, master," Dolan whispered.

The man nodded, then turned his attention to Gabrielle. "So, young friend of Xena, we meet again."

Gabrielle caught her breath. Those eyes, that face ... she could almost place this man. She wrestled with her memory, fighting through the clouds, searching for clarity. And then, like the last piece being set in a puzzle, the answer snapped into place.

"You're the shopkeeper," she breathed. "The one from town who threatened us with the crossbow."

He smiled thinly. "Your mind isn't so clouded as I thought it might be."

"Why?" Gabrielle asked. "I thought you didn't want us to be your 'chosen ones.'"

"True," he answered. "But then I thought of what would hurt Xena more than anything, and that would be the loss of her best friend. I want her to look into the eyes of the great god, in your body, and see she has lost you forever. Thus will I have my revenge."

Gabrielle swallowed hard. "You're a sick man."

Ignoring her comment, he gestured to Dolan, who rose quickly to his feet. Gabrielle had forgotten the boy still had kneeled humbly on the floor.

"Watch, initiate," the head priest said, "and I will show you how to ensure compliance from an unwilling sacrifice."

He gestured again, and four priests -- all dressed in the blood-red robes -- walked through the chamber door and stood silently behind their leader with unreadable expressions. The head priest gestured again, and the men moved slowly toward the bed. Each one grabbed one of Gabrielle's legs or arms; she struggled weakly but could not break their hold as they laid her on the bed.

The chief priest reached into his robes and produced a small vial of yellow liquid and a length of cloth. He splattered the cloth with yellow drops, then approached the bed.

"You don't want her able to fight you," the head priest said, lecturing to his son, "but you need her conscious or the ritual will not succeed. So only use enough of the drug to knock out her control over her body so she can do nothing to resist."

As he spoke, he demonstrated by holding the cloth to Gabrielle's nose and mouth. She jerked her face away, so the head priest roughly grabbed her chin and held her in place while his drug did its work.

Gabrielle's limbs grew heavy, and the cobwebs in her mind began to thicken once again. Just as she felt the edges of consciousness begin to blur, the cloth vanished from her face, but it mattered little. She vaguely realized that the priests were manhandling her, dressing her in the white robe, picking her up and carrying her through dimly lit hallways. She couldn't form enough of a coherent thought to care.

The priests laid her on a cold, stone altar. They waved their hands over her, and the head priest marked her forehead with an icy liquid. From somewhere far away, as though she heard it from the bottom of a well, the priests began to chant.

"... Burn me, scar me,
burn me, mark me,
burn me, scar me,
burn me, mark me ..."

The word carried a seductive rhythm, one Gabrielle couldn't help but listen to, until they were her entire world. Only the chant, throbbing through her veins, filling her mind until nothing else mattered. Nothing ... nothing ... nothing ...

A blinding flash of pain wracked her body. She heard someone screaming, not realizing the tortured sounds came from her own lips.

Then it was over, and Gabrielle was in a dark place. Floating. Peaceful. Here she had no body, no voice, no control. No escape.

Somehow, she knew the battle for her body was lost.

The temple of Pyros marred the forest like a scar. The first things Joxer saw were three black spires jutting high above the trees. Then, as they drew closer, he received his first unfettered view of Gabrielle's prison. With the setting sun behind it, the building seemed to glow around the edges, as if it too, like its master, possessed the command of fire.

The temple's exterior was constructed of rough black and red stone blocks, although where the builders had found red rock in these parts, Joxer couldn't guess. Above the huge iron doors, someone had painted a flame in vibrant red and orange.

Surrounding the temple, the forest had been burned away, leaving nothing but black ashes for perhaps 100 yards in every direction. If Joxer had needed a reason to hate the fire god, this alone would have sufficed because this was a dead zone, where nothing grew or lived. Only a god of destruction could inhabit such a place.

Joxer, Xena and Argo hid, concealed behind the cover of foliage at the edge of the black circle. They had stood here, silent, watching a few priests walk through the massive iron doors, for several minutes. Then Xena, released from her immobility, passed Argo's reins into Joxer's hands.

"Stay here," she said. "I'm going in."

"Oh, no you don't," Joxer answered. "I'm coming with you. I'm not staying out here if Gabrielle needs my help."

Xena sighed. "Joxer, this is not the time to argue. I can't afford to have you getting in the way."

Joxer set his jaw stubbornly. "You can't stop me."

Xena hesitated for a moment, studying Joxer with an intense, unreadable expression that made Joxer want to look away. But he kept his eyes firmly fixed on Xena's, knowing she would force him to stay behind if he showed any sign of weakness.

Finally, she sighed and nodded. She whispered assurances into Argo's ear before patting her horse on the rump and claiming all her weapons from the saddlebags.

Then together, the pair emerged from the brush and approached the temple.

From his place among the other initiates, Dolan winced as he heard those terrible screams rip from the mouth of the Chosen One. He'd liked the girl; she'd been stubborn, getting him in trouble with his father, but she'd also eagerly listened to his explanations of Pyros. And she'd been, well, ... nice. No one had ever really been nice to him before.

Now she'd go away. To the Other Place. In his studies in the temple library, Dolan had once read in an old, dusty book that as soon as the Chosen One surrendered to the rhythm of the chants, Pyros would be able to enter the body, and then he'd send the spirit of the Chosen One to the Other Place. Wherever that was.

He hadn't even known the girl's name.

Then the screaming stopped. The chanting stopped. She slowly sat up and swept her eyes across the assembled priests, but the eyes were different. Dolan mourned, for the nice girl was gone.

Pyros slowly raised his hands, running his fingers across the face, chest and stomach of his new body. He nodded and smiled grimly.

"A good body. Strong, healthy. It will last a long time. You have chosen well, my priests."

The voice sounded just like the girl, except with an undisguised arrogance and inborn rage. To Dolan's ears, it seemed the once beautiful, melodic voice almost growled.

The god slid from the altar and surveyed the priests silently. He lifted and cupped one hand, which suddenly held a small fireball. With an evil grin, Pyros threw; the fireball struck one of the priests in the chest and turned him to ash in less than a second.

Then the god laughed, a horrible sound that made the tiny hairs on Dolan's neck stand on end.

"Yes," he growled. "A good body."

Dolan's father stepped forward and kneeled. "Master ..."

Pyros turned his bright eyes on him. "What is it."

"The girl whose body we took, she had friends. Powerful friends. I think they will come for her."

"This does not concern me," Pyros answered, "for when they come, I will kill them. Tell me, do you think they will run?"

"I don't believe so, master."

Pyros frowned. "Too bad. I was hoping for some target practice."

The halls were desserted as Xena and Joxer quietly, carefully made their way through the temple. Well, at least Xena was quiet. She glared at him more than once when his armor clanked, and he shrugged helplessly.

Still, Joxer reasoned, it made no difference how much noise he made because no priests were around to hear it.

From somewhere ahead of them, screams began to echo down the corridors. Xena froze, and Joxer bumped into her back with a quiet "oof."

Xena breathed in sharply, and every muscled tensed. "Gabrielle," she whispered. Without looking back to see if Joxer would follow, she broke into a sprint, her chakram clutched in her hand.

"Hey," Joxer yelled indignantly, "wait up!"

With one hand on his helmet and the other on his sword hilt, Joxer clattered awkwardly down the halls after Xena. He barely kept her in view, a shadow darting around corners so quickly Joxer feared he would lose her.

Just as he began to despair getting lost himself in this maze of corridors, he turned a corner and ran at full speed into a group of red-robed boys. He tripped and landed directly on one of them, muttered an apology and struggled to his feet.

The room he'd stumbled into was huge, with a ceiling that reached into one of the spires. Men in blood-colored robes packed the room, almost shoulder to shoulder, and at the front, atop a black stone altar, stood his beloved.

Joxer froze as he saw her. Gabrielle wore a long, white robe, and the rings on almost every one of her fingers caught the light of torches attached to every wall. Her short-cropped hair spiked wildly and also caught the light, glinting as though on fire. She carried herself royally, arrogantly, not at all like the women he loved.

A tear trailed slowly down Joxer's cheek at the vision before him. They were too late.

He expected the bright, unearthly eyes to turn on him, but he saw now that the god was focused on something else. Xena. The priests had backed away from her, clearing a path between Pyros and the warrior princess.

Xena's voice rose above the priests' mutters and angry oaths. "My name is Xena," she said. "And you stole my friend's body."

A slow, evil smile crossed Pyros' face. "So?"

"Give me back my friend."

"Not a chance, Xena." Pyros spat the name like a curse. "I like this body too much to give it up."

"Give Gabrielle back," Xena growled. "I'm warning you."

Pyros laughed harshly. "Or what? You'll kill me? All you'll do is kill this body, and I don't think you want to do that. Face the truth. You've lost."

"I won't give up."

"I certainly hope you won't. I'm looking forward to destroying you. You annoy me."

Xena smiled thinly. "Good."

With a high-pitched cry, Xena threw her chakram. The weapon sliced around the room, ricocheting off the walls until it shot toward Pyros from behind. The edge barely grazed along his upper arm, drawing a thin line of blood, before flying back into Xena's outstretched hand.

Pyros clutched at the cut and screamed in rage. "You're stronger than I thought. Until we meet again, Xena."

He gestured to the priests, who, suddenly released from their immobility, crowded around Xena and began to beat on her with their fists. Joxer stood helplessly at the back of the room, unable to fight through the priests to reach either Xena or Pyros, who escaped through a doorway at the far end of the chamber.

Xena had vanished beneath the flood of red robes, but with a yell, she shot up from the crowd, flipped in midair and landed next to a wide-eyed Joxer. She grabbed one of the boys by the arm and held her chakram to his neck.

"One move," she warned the priests, "and the boy dies."

Joxer stared worriedly at Xena, her eyes bright and dangerous. She licked her lips and laughed softly. Joxer hoped she was only acting crazy to get them out of here and hadn't actually suffered a mental breakdown at the loss of Gabrielle.

One pudgy priest stepped forward. "You won't do it, Xena."

Her eyes flickered as she examined the prist. "I killed your wife, shopkeeper," she sneered. "What makes you think I won't kill this boy." No one spoke. "Do you want to test me?"

The pudgy priest sighed and gestured to the other men. As one, they backed off.

"Good," Xena growled. "No one follows us. Understand?"

Without waiting for an answer, Xena turned and proceeded to drag the boy behind her back down the corridors. Joxer chased behind them.

"Hey, Xena," he yelled. "You aren't really gonna hurt him, are you? Cause, I mean, if you've gone nuts or something I can just take the kid and we'll get out of your way--"

"Joxer," Xena said curtly, "be quiet. I'm fine. I needed to get us out of there without hurting anyone, and all I could think of was to play off my reputation."

"Oh, well, that's OK then," Joxer muttered. He didn't know what else to say, so he followed Xena and her young captive from the temple, past the black circle and into the forest where Argo waited, munching on some grass.

Xena gently threw the boy to the ground, where he landed with a bump. He looked up at Xena with unmistakable fear written across his face. As Joxer watched, Xena knelt beside the boy and fixed him with her icy blue eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you, understand?" she said gently.

He nodded slowly.

"Good. My name is Xena. What's your name?"

The boy cleared his throat noisily. "D- Dolan," he stuttered.

"Dolan, I need your help. I need you to get me the information that will save my friend, Gabrielle."

Dolan swallowed hard and glance between Xena and Gabrielle. "I didn't want this to happen, honest. I liked your friend. She was nice."

"You talked to her?"

"Yeah. I was ... in charge of getting her ready for the ritual. She wouldn't put on the robe like I asked her to."

Xena half-smiled. "That sounds like Gabrielle."

Dolan breathed deeply, as if gathering his courage, and looked Xena square in the eyes. "I know how you can save her."

"How?" Xena asked intently.

"I read it in one of the library books. My father, he's the head priest, he says I read too much. I found the cure in this really old, dusty book that no one had read for centuries." He paused. "To bring back Gabrielle, someone who loves her purely must embrace her."

Xena blinked. "That's it?"

"Yeah, well, it's not as easy as it sounds because one touch of the god can turn a mortal to ashes."

Xena pursed her lips and sighed. "It doesn't matter. If I must die to save Gabrielle, then that's what I'll do."

She looked up at Joxer, and for a moment, he saw fear in her eyes. He caught his breath as he realized that for just this moment, Xena was allowing him to see what lay beyond her stony exterior, what lay heaviest on her heart. And she was afraid.

Joxer knelt beside her. "We'll save her," he said quietly. "Gabrielle's not lost because there are people here who love her. We'll bring her back."

Xena nodded and smiled in thanks.

For the rest of the night, none of them slept. They sat together until sunrise, intent on only one purpose: planning how to catch a god.

"I want them dead. Both of them. Xena and her clumsy friend."

The head priest who knelt before Pyros, his head bowed humbly, ventured to raise his eyes to the great god, his master. "Catching them will be difficult," he whispered. "Xena is a talented warrior--"

"I don't care." His voice gruff and dangerous. "Find them. I want to kill them."

"Yes, master."

Pyros absently fingered the blood-stained bandages wrapped around his upper arm. "I'll kill her slowly. Painfully. Yes, a slow death. I want to hear her scream."

The priest swallowed hard. "Yes, master."

"You will find them. Quickly. I lose patience and hunger for a kill. If they continue to elude you, I'll be forced to find another sacrifice for the festival." His eyes glittered madly.

"Y- yes, master."

"Go now."

The priest bowed repeatedly as he backed away, his forehead brushing the dirty floor. As he exited the room, he straightened his pudgy frame, hiked his robes to his fat knees and ran down the temple halls to collect the other priests. Time was running short, and he had to find Xena soon. His life depended on it.

Joxer leaned against the outside of the general store and watched the townspeople began to gather in the streets, their festive clothes creating a riot of rich reds, oranges and yellows.

He'd stood here as Gabrielle had burst from the store two days ago, panicked to find him. And right there, she had tackled him in the street. Joxer imagined, as he stared at the spot, that he still could see the faint outline of their bodies imprinted in the dirt.

Only two days ago they'd been here. Now, Gabrielle was gone, banished to the Other Place, as Dolan called it. Whatever that was.

Joxer peered across the street at Xena, standing silent and dark as a shadow by a hay wagon. She briefly returned his gaze with hooded eyes before looking away to the increasingly crowded street. Where Dolan had stationed himself, Joxer didn't know.

So they stood and waited as the festival of Pyros began. From somewhere, a band began playing a jaunty tune, and couples swirled into the street, men spinning women in time to the quick beat. Others circled the dancers and clapped to the rhythm.

The scent of smoked meat wafted to Joxer's post, and his stomach growled loudly, reminding him he hadn't eaten since that morning.

Hoots and cheers from the celebrating crowd made Joxer want to join in the fun. At one point, a rosy-cheeked, pretty young woman approached him shyly and asked him to dance, and it was with reluctance that he refused her. From across the street, Joxer thought he could see Xena quark her eyebrows in amusement.

To keep his mind off the party he was missing, Joxer repeated his instructions to himself, the plan they had formed. It seemed simple enough, really, but if he'd learned one thing traveling with Xena and Gabrielle, it was that nothing ever transpired exactly as they planned. Well, that and avoid eating the fish at roadside taverns.

"So, um, Xena," he had said the previous afternoon, "how do we get Gabrielle back without hurting her body?"

"First, we lure Pyros out of town -- I don't want him anywhere near the townspeople when the fighting breaks out. We capture him and drive him from Gabrielle's body."

Joxer nodded eagerly. "Oh, OK. So we tie him up and--"

"Won't work," Dolan interjected. "He'll just burn through any ropes you bind him with."

Joxer blinked. "Well, then, we'll handcuff him--"

"He'll melt the metal," Dolan said dejectedly.

Joxer frowned. "So what do we do if he can break free of any restraints we hold him with?"

Both Joxer and Dolan looked at Xena, who sat deep in thought. She bit her lower lip and fixed her intense eyes on Dolan. "The night Gabrielle was taken, we were all drugged. Do you know where the priests keep those drugs?"

Dolan nodded, his eyes widening as he understood Xena's implication. "Yeah, they're in the temple storage room. Lots of different types."

"We need something strong enough to knock him out for several hours. Think you can get it?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure." Dolan jumped up and disappeared into the brush, heading toward the temple.

Joxer watched him go and sighed. "Xena, Pyros is a god. Drugs don't affect gods."

Xena smiled thinly. "You saw how my chakram injured him, didn't you?" she asked. "He also ran when I attacked him instead of doing the usual vanishing trick of the gods. I suspect that although Pyros retained most of his powers, he's also limited by a mortal body."

"Oh, I see." Joxer's eyes lit in understanding. "He might be a god, but Gabrielle's body will be affected by the drug."

"That's what I'm hoping."

Standing outside the general store, Joxer gingerly lifted his small drug-bomb from his tunic. An ingenious device it was, crafted from nature's ingredients, water tight, fragile yet tough, and explosive on impact.

When Xena had demonstrated how to use the bomb, lobbing it at an unsuspecting deer, the effect had been spectacular. The buck had swayed, drooped and thudded to the ground as Joxer and Dolan had watched slack-jawed. Dolan had asked how Xena had created the weapon, and she'd only granted the boy a mysterious smile and had said, "I have many skills."

These little beauties certainly could do the job. All they had to do was smack Pyros in the nose and he'd be out for hours. Then they could bring back Gabrielle.

Without a doubt, they'd save her. Joxer silently promised Gabrielle, whom he envisioned waiting and watching from the Other Place, that he'd save her. No matter what.

"I'll give up my life if I have to," he whispered, fingering the bomb. "My life for yours."

The music halted in midtune, cutting short a particularly athletic dance in which the men tossed their partners over their heads. Joxer eyed the crowd, which had, as one, turned their backs to him and stood quietly. From somewhere, a baby began to cry.

Then he saw Gabrielle, or rather Pyros. He stepped onto a wagon so Joxer had an unfettered view. Across the street, Xena held her chakram. She glanced his way and nodded. It was time.

From his perch atop the wagon, Pyros lifted his arms wide above his head. "My people," he shouted, "I have returned to you!"

The villagers cheered and clapped.

"Only one task remains for me to secure this body so that no one can ever push me from it." His voice lowered and growled. "I need the ritual sacrifice. Then the transfer of my soul is complete."

What? Joxer thought. Dolan hadn't said anything about any sacrifices ruining their chance of getting Gabrielle back. This was not good. Oh, no, this was definitely not good.

Joxer waved at Xena until she looked his way, and he pointed furiously at Pyros. She nodded and shrugged. Joxer wondered if she understood what the god had said.

"... Where is my head priest?" Pyros demanded.

A large man in blood-red robes approached the wagon. He fell to his knees and pressed his forehead in the dirt. Joxer wasn't certain, but it looked as though the man trembled violently.

Pyros smiled at the man's terror. "Where is my sacrifice?" he asked quietly.

"Master, I -- I tried ... but she ... the woman--"

"I lose patience," Pyros snapped. "Where is she?"

"I-- that is we couldn't find her, master. Please, master, she vanished," he pleaded. "I swear, we looked for hours. Please be merciful, master."

"You remember my warning to you, priest. Xena, or you. It seems as though you've failed to produce her. So now you die."

"NO!"

Pyros froze and looked about as the desperate scream ripped through the town. The priest, from his groveling position in the dirt, also seemed shocked, ceasing his trembling as he twisted around to find his benefactor.

"Who said that?" Pyros growled. "Show yourself."

After an eternal moment, a small figure emerged from the shadows of a nearby house, his red robe dirty and torn, and his sandy blond hair spiking wildly around his face. Joxer breathed in sharply. The boy was Dolan.

With hesitant steps, Dolan walked slowly toward the crowd, his back and neck stiff yet strong. The villagers melted away as he slowly approached the wagon.

Pyros snorted. "Nothing but a mouse. Who are you, mouse, to defy me?"

"My name is Dolan," he answered without a waver in his voice. "And I won't let you kill my father."

A truly evil smile cross Pyros' face, distorting the beautiful features into a mask of death. Joxer shuddered. Gabrielle never looked so terrifying.

"Your father. This pathetic man is your father. I wonder, then, where you inherit this courage, for it is not from this groveling creature." He cocked his head. "Why do you want me to spare him?"

"Because -- because he is my father."

"You intrigue me, mouse. You are strong, stronger than this pathetic creature. I can use your strength. Therefore, I will grant your request; I will spare your father, and take you instead." He looked to the priest. "What do you say to that?"

The head priest trembled and buried his head in his hands, but he said not a word.

Pyros leaned back his head and laughed loudly. "Your father is too cowardly to refuse your gift. So be it. Prepare to meet Hades."

Dolan froze, his stiff back all that Joxer could see. Then, as Pyros waved his hand and produced a fireball hovering above his fingertips, Dolan's bravery broke, and the boy ran, running straight for Joxer.

"Yessss, scurry away, my little mouse. I love a good chase." Pyros threw, but the fireball flew wide and crashed into a house, setting it ablaze. He waved his hand again, creating another.

Dolan, meanwhile, stumbled away, tripping over his robes. He was halfway to Joxer. Pyros lifted his hand.

No! Joxer thought. He couldn't let this boy die!

He launched his drug-bomb at Pyros, watched it soar through the air toward his target. But he'd misjudged the throw badly, and the bomb hit Dolan in the nose with a definite smack just as Pyros released his fireball. The boy's eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed face-first into the dirt, the fireball shooting through the space where his head had been moments before.

Joxer drew his sword and ran toward Dolan, determined to drag him out of harm's way. He tripped over his own feet and sprawled in the dirt not inches from Dolan as another fireball ripped over his head.

All this occurred in a matter of a few seconds, and in the time that Dolan had escaped and Joxer had accidentally knocked him out, Xena made her move. She had climbed to the roof a house and had balanced herself on the edge, her chakram flying from her hand. It ricocheted off a building behind the crowd and sliced along Pyros' good arm before soaring back to her.

Pyros yelled in rage, his eyes blazing. He clutched at his arm as he spotted Xena, high above.

"You're a dead woman!" he screamed.

Xena grinned. "Then come and get me."

With a war cry, she flipped from the roof and into the branches of a massive tree at the edge of the forest. Leaving only mocking laughter behind her, she vanished into the foliage.

Pyros followed.

Xena raced through the tree tops, leaping from branch to branch, every second putting the village farther behind her. Yet she deliberately crashed through the leaves, creating quite a racket, so her hunter would know where to follow.

Then she halted, crouched low and drew a drug-bomb from her bosom. She hefted it in her hand, and waited.

Not long after, she heard Pyros coming through the undergrowth, and she faintly smelled smoke, probably from the trees and bushes the god had laid his hands upon. He ran into view, and abruptly stopped below Xena's tree.

"I know you're here, Xena," he said. "I can feel your body heat. Come out and face me."

With a high-pitched yell, Xena flipped down from the tree, landing a few feet from Pyros. She grinned as she pulled back her arm. "Face this," she growled.

Pyros tried to dodge the bomb, throwing himself to the side, but Xena anticipated the move and adjusted. The bomb exploded in the face belonging to her best friend and her enemy. Pyros reacted just as expected, swaying on his feet and collapsing to the ground like a rag doll.

Xena knelt by the body, careful not to touch, yet, and assured herself that Pyros was indeed unconscious. She only glanced up momentarily as Joxer came crashing through the bushes.

"Is she ... OK?" he asked between pants.

"She's out cold."

"Oh, good. So, um, now what. We just hug her and that's it, right?"

I hope it's that simple, she answered silently. I hope this works.

She gingerly reached out and touched her fingertips to Gabrielle's bare arm and jerked back. She examined her skin, red and already blistering. Xena sighed. To embrace Gabrielle would be to invite in death.

"What is it?" Joxer asked anxiously. "Did it hurt?"

"She's hot. Very hot." Xena examined her best friend but didn't dare to touch her again. "Gabrielle, don't tell me I'm too late."

Joxer knelt beside her. "Can I try?"

Xena shrugged. "As long as you don't mind scalding yourself."

Joxer slowly lifted his hand and held it trembling over Gabrielle's body. "Burn me with your touch," he whispered. Then, as Xena tensed beside him, Joxer grazed his fingers over her shoulder.

He didn't pull back. Instead, he laid his palm flat against her skin and wrapped his fingers around her arm. "She's cold," he muttered.

Xena stared at him wide-eyed. "Cold?"

"Like ice." Joxer's expression grew worried. "We have to get her warm, Xena. I have to get her warm or she'll die of exposure."

He lifted the unconscious form into his lap, brushed his fingers through her hair, and then, to Xena's shocked disbelief, gathered her into his arms and held her tight.

The ground around them began to smoulder as leaves and grass turned brown and curled about the edges. The pair seemed to radiate an unbearable heat, and Xena backed away, blocking her face with her hands. Yet Joxer refused to let go.

Tiny flames appeared among the scalded leaves at their feet and grew. The fire flickered about Joxer's legs, then around his knees, and it rose higher and higher until Xena could not see her friends at all. The fire engulfed them, crackling and smoking to the heavens.

"Joxer!" Xena yelled. "Gabrielle!"

She could hardly hear herself above the snapping of the fire, which slowly rose higher, a column that nipped at the tree branches above them.

Xena began to panic. She looked around her for something that might douse the flames -- a nearby creek or a water flask or anything -- but she saw nothing. All she could do was stand back from the inferno and scream for her friends.

Suddenly, the flames vanished. Where there rose a pillar of fire seconds before was nothing -- nothing except the charred remains of sticks, leaves and grass.

And Gabrielle, with Joxer pressing her to his chest and mumbling incoherently.

With a small cry, Xena knelt down beside the pair. They showed no physical signs of their ordeal. While Xena glistened with sweat, they were dry, pale and unscarred.

"Joxer, you can let her go," Xena urged, touching him lightly on the shoulder. His armor bit like ice. "Joxer, let her go. Joxer ..."

He looked up, his eyes dazed and not really seeing anything. "She's warmer," he whispered. "She'll be OK now."

As if to test Joxer's words, Xena brushed her blistered fingers along Gabrielle's limp arm. She felt normal. Xena sighed in relief. She gathered them both into her arms; tears of joy ran unchecked down her cheeks. Joxer had saved her, the woman they both loved, their Amazon princess, their Gabrielle.

With a goofy grin, Dolan extended his hand and clasped fingers with Gabrielle. She squeezed lightly and smiled back.

"No hard feelings, right?" Dolan asked.

"No hard feelings," Gabrielle answered, and she meant it. Without Dolan, she's have lost her body for all time. "So, what do you do now? Are you going to go back to the temple with your father?"

Dolan shrugged. "I don't think so. My father and I have a lot of things to work out, but I'm not ready to talk to him yet. Besides, Pyros isn't a god that I can devote my life to. Maybe I can find something more fun to do."

"You know, Athens has the biggest library in Greece. I bet you'd fit in great there."

Dolan's eyes lit happily. "Really? Oh, that sounds great!"

His contagious excitement made Gabrielle grin. "Thanks again, Dolan. And good luck."

"You, too, Gabrielle."

With one last smile, Gabrielle and Dolan parted ways, and she returned to where her friends waited by the entrance to the general store. They both smiled at her, and in that moment, Gabrielle basked in their love.

As they headed out of town, Joxer took the lead, marching ahead of them, waving his sword over his head and singing his song at the top of his lungs.

Gabrielle laughed softly. "He's proud of himself, isn't he?"

"He has a right to be," Xena responded. "This time, Joxer is the hero."

"Yeah."

They wound their way back through the fields of wheat, rustling softly in the warm afternoon breeze. At the edge of the forest, Gabrielle turned for one more look at the village. Xena set a hand on her shoulder.

"Xena, why was it that you couldn't save me, but Joxer could?"

Her friend half-smiled. "I've thought a lot about that. I think it's because only a person who loves you purely could save you. I love you, but it's not pure love because I expect something in return. I expect you to love me back."

Gabrielle nodded. "But Joxer loves me unconditionally, with no expectations of getting anything in return."

"Yes."

"You know something, Xena? I think he's too good for me."

Xena's smile grew broader. "You could do a lot worse than Joxer. He's brave and selfless and he loves you with his whole heart."

Gabrielle sighed and shook her head. She twisted around to watch Joxer disappear into the forest ahead of them, swinging his sword the whole way. "He's different. That's for sure."

"One in a million."

Xena squeezed her friend's shoulder, and they walked under the ceiling of trees.

Joxer looked back over his shoulder at them, his eyes meeting Gabrielle's, but this time neither of them looked away. Gabrielle smiled and nodded; Joxer's face broke into a huge grin. He spun around, doing a little dance, and skipped up the road singing even more loudly than before.

"Joxer the Mighty,
He's great in a fighty,
Never lets his Gabby down,
Burns old Pyros to the ground.
He's Joxer, Joxer the Mighty!
Joxer! Joxer the Miiiiighty!"

The end

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