HEATHER

Weightlessness.  Motion.  It made me think of the scirocco.  I felt like that red dust, helplessly carried along by the prevailing winds.  I thought of the red dust of Cloncurry.  I thought of Lachlan.  I thought of our baby. 

A golden light surrounded me, burning away the cold and melting away that heavy leaden feeling in my limbs.  My arms ached to hold my son... and his father.  Do we miss life in death?  I never once imagined that.  How strange.  The light shimmered and swirled around my body, pulling at me.  What was this place?

LACHLAN

Weightlessness.  Motion.  It was disorienting after my fall to earth.  The pull of gravity became a swirling cushion of light, enveloping me.... pulling at me, like-

Oh, God!

I experienced a moment of sheer and utter terror.  I knew this feeling.  I had felt it just before I was pulled from my time, from my world into a bloody Game.  Where I had been resolutely accepting of my death, I began to struggle fiercely against the light's embrace.  God.  Not again.... Please, no!

Starting over there without her?  Without my son?  Encouraged to live off the profits of other men's work and expected to be content with a naiad?  What real man wants that?  What real man wants a fantasy that can't touch his mind and heart?  Bloody glorified blow up doll is what they are.... to say nothing of the fact I'd long ago promised myself I'd never take another penny I hadn't earned.  A real man makes his own way in the world. 

And a real man cannot live without his heart.  

A frantic feeling raged in my chest.  Blue!  Tristan!  My heart cried out for them.  My arms ached to hold them.  I felt like I was being smothered in light.  So, this is the last joke, hey?  The Mayfly thinks it's falling to earth and instead alights on Dea's hand.  I felt a power gathering and then the pull became stronger, like a divine breath was blowing a gentle wind under the Mayfly's wings... trying to get it to fly away.  I resisted.  The wind became stronger, rougher.  I clung harder and it buffeted me, battering my tired broken body.

Please, no more....

She didn't listen.  I was torn from my mooring and cast again into flight.  

HEATHER

Warm.  Dark.  Quiet.  Where was I?  Things began to filter slowly into my consciousness.  I smelled burning herbs.  Sage.  Sweetgrass.  Other more exotic herbs that I couldn't identify, spicy and mysterious.  The floor was cold and hard under my back.  I felt like a gentle wind was blowing over my skin.  It slowly died away.  I shivered and felt gooseflesh rise.  With a start, I became aware I could open my eyes.

The ceiling didn't look like a ceiling at all.  It looked like the night sky.  I'd only ever seen one ceiling like that.  The Temple sanctuary.  Is that were I was?  I was afraid to breathe.  Afraid to move.  I turned my head slightly and saw a sheer iridescent veil, shrouding the main sanctuary from view.  The sanctuary had an antechamber?

Still lost in this hazy sort of twilight in my mind, I gingerly pushed myself into a sitting position and put a hand on my belly.  I missed the bump of my baby and I was still wearing Lach's shirt.  The bottom stained with blood.  I felt a moment of panic and put a hand between my legs, withdrawing it only to stare at it in disbelief.  No blood on my fingers.  No ring and no bracelet, either.  I stood shakily and held the shirt open as I looked down at myself.  My body was clean and unmarked.  Other than my soft belly and this weak lethargy in my limbs, there was no sign I'd just given birth and hemorrhaged.  It was surreal.

Even in my muzzy mind, the pieces started slowly falling into place.  I was back.  The portal had healed me.... but I was alone.  The room was silent and empty.  I sank weakly to my knees.  Send me back!  I couldn't be here.  Not without them.  My sweet little baby.  My precious Lachlan.  Oh, please, send me back.....  My forehead rested against the cold marble floor. 

"Please...." 

A humble, broken plea whispered from my most desperate heart.  I can't do this without them.  I can't.  Bring them here or send me back.  Please.....

"Please...."

The gentle wind grew stronger and the iridescent veil fluttered.

LACHLAN

I felt the cold stone of the Temple's rough marble floor under me as the warm pulse of light receded.  Still on my side, I curled into a ball.  I could breathe again and the fiery pain was gone from my leg... but both of those things were eclipsed by the agony in my chest.  I felt broken.  Defeated.  I didn't even have the energy to open my eyes.  I simply curled tighter on myself and willed my mind back to them.... to my family.  I felt a disconnect, felt the blackness grow as I slipped further and further inside myself. 

A gentle touch on my shoulder and a woman's soft voice disturbed me.  Dea?  Fuck Her.  I don't need any more favors from you, love.  I shrugged away the touch, reaching in my mind for the loving touch of my family.  The hand at my shoulder shook me. 

A hot stick of anger stabbed hard inside my chest.  "Fuck off!"  Despair overwhelmed me.  "Leave me be...." I mumbled, sinking back into myself. 

"Lach...."  

The voice was familiar but I hardly paid it any mind.  My family was so close... just a little more and I could touch them.  Be with them again.  I know I could.....

"Lachlan Curry!  You wake up right now!"  I felt a sharp pinch to my arse that had my eyes snapping open.  The image of my family shimmered and vanished.  Fuck.  The heat in the voice turned on a dime and became desperate and pleading.  "Come back, Lach..... You have to come back to me.... I can't do this without you.... please...."

I turned over and my heart stopped when I saw her there.  "Blue."  We both moved at the same time, wrapping our arms around each other and squeezing so tight.  My eyes were wet.  She sobbed quietly.  I thought I'd never get to hold her like this again.  I pulled away, taking her pale face in my hands, stroking back her dark hair as I looked at her.  So much blood on her clothes.  Icy fear gripped me as I fingered the hem of her shirt. 

"God, Lach.....you're bleeding...."  She fingered the bloodstain on my chest.  

"S'nothing."  I knocked her hands away and frantically checked her body.  I couldn't get her back now only to lose her again.  There was too much blood.  Why was she so bloody? 

She caught my wrists and whispered the one thing that had the power to still my hands.  "She has Tristan, Lach.  He's still back there...."  I have never felt a more debilitating fear than I did in that moment.  Deep black rage burned brightly in my breast.  What Game was She playing at?  Hadn't we suffered enough?   

For a moment, the loss of my son overwhelmed me.  I simply held her and we cried together.  Taking a few deep breaths, I calmed myself.  Forced myself to start thinking rationally.  "What happened?"  I touched the blood on her shirt lightly, sickened by the sight of it and furious with Dea for her part in all of this.  "What happened to you after I left?"  She told me about everything.  Anger and helplessness raged inside me.  How could She let that happen?  What more did She want from us?  Was I to lose every woman I ever loved and every child that grew from my seed? 

Her little fingers touched the bloody stain on my flight suit.  "What happened to you, Lach?"  I told her.  Her face crumpled and she held me so tight.  And then it happened again.  This moment of absolute clarity.  I would not let my family be torn apart.  No matter what.     

Our eyes met for a long moment.  "What do you want to do, love?"  I thought I knew, but I needed to hear her say it.  I felt her hand strong in mine.   

"I want to go back."  Tears slipped from her lashes as I rocked her.  "I can't be here without Tristan.... I- I want to go back."

I nodded and squeezed her hand.  "Me too."  Both of us knew what that meant... for ourselves and for each other.  But we were a family now and our place was with our son, no matter what the price.  I touched her face.  "I love you, Blue.  I love our son.  If this is where life takes us, I'm ready to go."

"I love you too."  I helped her to her knees and knelt with her, drawing her into my arms.  "I wouldn't change a single moment...."  She kissed my palm.  "They were all golden, Lach."

Love for her flooded me.  I held her tighter and we begged with one heart and one mind to be sent back.  This was never my time.  Never my place.  Now that Heather had cleaved to me, it wasn't her time or place, either.  We belonged with our son.  We belonged together.

My lips moved against her skin in silent prayer.  I held her tighter, expecting to be swallowed by the light and pulled away from her at any moment.  Her hands squeezed mine.  I felt the light come again and thought, this is it.... 

I thought we'd failed when the warm glow receded from us and she was still in my arms... and then the soft gurgle of a tiny baby broke the silence.

Thank you.  Oh, God... with all my heart, thank you.   

Tristan had appeared before us, still swaddled in Heather's blue shawl.  For a moment we were shocked into unnatural stillness, moved beyond tears.  Another chance to be a family.  Part of me was humbled beyond words.  Another part of me wondered what his miracle would cost us... and yet, I knew I'd pay the price... whatever it was. 

I picked him up and wanted to put him in her arms... but I just couldn't.  Not with all that blood staining her shirt.  If we were to have a fresh start, it wouldn't be with the blood of old wounds clinging to us.  I fingered her collar, keeping well away from the blood.  "Take this off, love."  I nuzzled Tristan's soft little cheek.  Heather looked unsure.  "It's alright... I'll find something for you.... I just can't-" my voice choked off.  I just couldn't stand to see her drenched in her own blood.  Not for another moment.  It was killing me. 

Understanding flared in her eyes.  She nodded and slipped out of the soiled garment.  I unwrapped Tristan and smiled as he wailed.  His lungs sure didn't seem any worse for the wear.  I put our naked squirming son in her arms and gently shook out the shawl to cover her nakedness.  A little paper envelope fluttered to the floor.  I bent to retrieve it, pouring out the contents into my hand.  A page of paper stayed tucked inside but my lucky penny, her charm bracelet and her ring landed in my palm with a soft metallic clink. 

Our eyes met.  A moment passed between us that needed no words.  Silently, I tucked the letter and the penny into my pocket and then I drew the shawl around her slender shoulders.  Our son's wail quieted to a gentle snaffling as he rooted at her breast and latched on.  With the most tender touch, I refastened the bracelet around her wrist.  Her ring glowed warmly in my palm.  Our eyes met.  There was a question in mine.  And an answer in hers.  I bent to kiss her as I slipped the plain gold band back on her finger.

As I did, the sheer curtain to my left parted and I heard a man announce his presence by softly clearing his throat.  Time to rejoin the land of the living, hey?

MAXIMUS

My Brother, his woman and their babe, all but hidden in the shadows.  Even before I pulled aside the curtain, I knew it would be so.  A whisper in my heart told me that the Mother would not restore to us one lost child without the other- any more than she'd have given us hearts without the ability to love or hands without a sword to wield in them.  Little snippets of the dream I'd had upon waking flashed through my mind.  The sound of children's laughter.  The soft tickle of feminine hair against my cheek.  A feeling of expectation... and peace.  The blessed Mother has been generous this day.

Lost in each other, they had not yet seen me.  I cleared my throat as the others joined me.  I heard Terry's sharp intake of air and Uma's soft joyous cry.  Dino remained silent but watchful, as ever he is.  Lachlan's eyes flew to us and their child let out a lusty cry.  As I expected, he turned them, using his body to shield his woman's nakedness from us.  Dino reached for the buttons at his throat and started forward.  I stopped him.

"Hold....  They must pass through the veil without your aid.  You cannot enter."

He adopted a familiar stance, half way between challenge and belligerence.  "But you can?"

"Yes."  I had already crossed Elysium's gate once.  It could never be barred to me now.  Only those of us who had crossed in death could pass behind the veil.  Myself.  Lachlan.  Colin.  Hando.  Heather's presence there said she had endured much to secure her child's future place among Dea's chosen ones. 

I bowed to the statue and entered with reverence, as is proper for such a holy place.  And yet even I, whose dreams have been visited by the great Mother herself, was unprepared for the sight of them.  My Brother's face was much changed.  Older.  Scarred and deeply lined.  A memory of myself calling him a boy before Uma flashed through my mind.  I smiled ruefully.  Perhaps the Mother was not done dispensing her lessons this day. 

We greeted each other.  I found it difficult not to stare at his face.  To cover my discomfort, I removed my light linen jacket and turned my back while she donned it. 

"Maximus?"  Maximus not Bellus.  I sighed inwardly as her soft voice addressed me less intimately than I would have preferred.  It didn't surprise me, but I felt the loss of it just the same.  Words from the last letter she sent me rang in my head as I turned and saw them standing together.  He was rewrapping their child in a blue palla.  She was watching them both with her heart in her eyes.  All was as it should be.  She reached for my hand in friendship.  "I want you to meet someone."  I allowed her to draw me closer. 

My eyes fell on the child cradled in my Brother's arms.  He smiled and jiggled the sleepy babe gently.  "This is our son, Tristan."

I felt a stab of longing for my own dark-haired son.  "A fine boy."  His chest swelled with a father's pride.  I touched his downy little cheek.  "How old is he?"  From under my lashes, I saw their eyes meet and her arm wound around his waist.

"A few hours," She whispered.  Ye Gods.  There was a story there, I was certain.  But now was not the time or the place for it. 

I motioned to the curtain.  "Can you walk?"  I addressed her- but I hadn't missed the blood marking Lachlan nor had I missed her bloodstained garment on the floor at their feet.  They both nodded.  Not many things had the power to frighten me, but childbirth still can and does.  They walked toward the curtain slowly.  He had a slight limp.  She was unsteady.  I bent to pick up the bloody shirt- it needed to be disposed of properly- and followed in their wake, ready to support either of them should the need arise.

They paused at the edge of the curtain and exchanged a soft kiss.  The love shining between them reminded me of how Uma had looked standing next to Thorne.  I missed having it for myself, but had long ago resigned myself to my solitary existence.  The Gods might favor me, but they seem to ask much in return.  Perhaps it is my fate to always be alone.  Who can ever truly know their will?  It is of little matter.  I am a soldier.  Duty is as ingrained in me as honor.  I will continue to march until the blessed Mother calls me home.

Lachlan threw a glance back at me over his shoulder and grinned, tossing out:  "Mayflies, hey?" before he led his woman through the veil.  I shook my head and smiled.  Mayflies?  Young or old, it seems to be Lachlan's fate to confound me with his odd thinking.  But then again, he is a pilot... and they tend to think on a totally divergent path from the rest of us simple old soldiers.... or so I've heard from at least two other old soldiers, who consider themselves to be experts on the subject.

TERRY

Considering what our lives had been like in recent days, I suppose I should have expected yet another curveball... but even I was thrown when Lachlan and Heather crossed through the veil.  I had already taken so much- and when I saw them, saw the condition they were both in... it was just a step too far.  Every man has a breaking point and I'd reached mine.  The picture they presented did not help my mood.  My protective urges had already been roused just bringing my girls to this place.  I was, of course, glad things had worked themselves out on that front, but there was no denying there was a part of me psyched up for a fight.

It was a dangerous frame of mind.  Men like me- when we're thrown too many curveballs, we tend to hunker down, to feel manipulated.  It puts me on guard like nothing else, flips some switch inside me that only makes me more watchful and curious.  I know I'm dangerous when that happens.  Why else gather every last shred of evidence and intel unless some part of you already knows you intend to take action?  I prefer to be as prepared as possible.

I noted every detail as the veil fluttered closed behind them.  And I knew that to my left, something similar was happening in Dino's head.  Even though we both had a personal, emotional investment here, we were trained to assess situations exactly like this one.  Mental.  Physical.  Emotional.  Both of us were taking a hard look.  The most noticeable change was Curry's face.  And to be honest, it threw me a little.  I heard Dino whisper 'Christ' just as Tink's breath caught on a sob. 

We all knew the story of Lachlan's past.  And Curry and I had discussed it at some length while on holiday in Oz.  Seeing it in the flesh, however, was unsettling.  Without the reality of that face reminding us all every day of what he'd been through, it was easy to forget, to imagine him younger and more carefree than he really was.  Or maybe that's just how I preferred to think of him.  Easier that way.

It would have been easy to miss the other details with that shock glaring us all in the face, but I made note of those as well.  Blood stained his flight suit in two places.  One flesh wound, one critical.  Good job he came through the portal when he did.  He smelled of sulfury smoke and sweat and was favoring one leg slightly.  The fact that he was the one holding the baby set off little alarms in my head as well.  Heather was pale and shaky.  Her arm was around him, obviously for support.  Was she so weak she couldn't hold her own child safely?  Jesus.   

I bloody had to pry Maia from Tink to get her to rest. The difference between the two of them was shocking.  Tink's birth had been rough but afterwards, she'd glowed.  Was more radiant than I'd ever seen her.  In contrast, Heather looked pale and wan.  Her dark hair was longer than I remembered and fell in a messy tangle around her shoulders.  She was all but swallowed up in Max's jacket.  Still, what little of her I could see unsettled me.  She was gaunt.  She'd always been a slender girl but she'd still had more generous curves than Tink.  Now... Jesus... Now Tink was the one who looked soft and round compared to her.  Coupled with her shockingly pale complexion, it was almost like seeing a ghost of the girl I once knew.

At that moment, Maximus stepped through the veil behind them.  I sucked in a breath as I saw what he was carrying.  We exchanged a pointed glance.  I felt more than heard Dino start next to me as he saw it too.  All of us... we knew it for what it was.  That much blood could only have come from a mortal wound.  She had bled out.  Neither of them had to say a single word for us to know they'd suffered something terrible.

Our little reunion, though filled with tears of joy, was much more subdued than you'd imagine.  I hugged Heather and embraced Lachlan.  Cooed over their little baby.  Tink was overjoyed and overcome.  Crying and laughing as she alternately touched the face of father and son.  Her natural instinct to care for them both was already making itself known.  Now that she was a mother, I can only imagine that propensity has grown tenfold.  Heather seemed to drink in my quiet strength when we hugged but it was Dino's ear she whispered into when they embraced. 

When the soft greetings had died down, introductions were made.  Maia.  Tristan.  Heather stroked Maia's little head.  Hint of color in her cheeks now.  She smiled but said little.  Tink was going on as she always does.  Talking gibberish a mile a minute that just made me smile, interjected from time to time with:  It's a boy....  It's a little boy.... Over and over again.  I took Maia from her so she could coo over him to her heart's content.  It suddenly struck me as funny.  There was more cooing from the lot of us in that moment than any of us had ever made before... and there wasn't a dry eye or stiff todger in the whole fucking place.

We were all moved, me included... but part of me was just going through the motions.  Taking it all in.  I couldn't shake the feeling that there were deeper, darker things at work here under the joy we were feeling.  Curry's eyes were glassy and bright.  Emotionally, he was a question mark.  Unpredictable.  He's prone to popping off on a good day and I could tell he was on the edge.  Can't say I blame him.  I'd have gone mental seeing Tink covered in a shirt soaked with her own blood- to say nothing of the fact he had to have been coming down off a combat high... and his chest wound said he'd had a close brush with death as well. 

Those factors combined with his mercurial temper made for a volatile combination and I knew it... and still, I was caught off guard when he blew.  Lachlan had put Tristan in Heather's arms so he could embrace Uma, when over her shoulder, he saw the statue of the Goddess and God entwined in physical union.  As far as statues go, I could take it or leave it.  Uma had ignored it, preferring to address the large solitary statue of the Goddess, set off by itself in a small corner niche. 

Lachlan's eyes glinted hard.  He pushed past them all, clearly intent on doing the statue some serious damage.  He pounced.  "Fucking bitch!"  Max and Dino knew enough to hold off and let Uma after him.  Had a man touched him then, it only would have fueled his righteous anger.  He would have flown totally off the handle.  Tink's soft touch stopped him at the last possible moment.  His chest heaved.  Denied the physical satisfaction of smashing the offensive image to dust, he cut loose verbally, spewing vitriol in impotent rage for what was done to his family.  Can't say I really blame him for that one.            

"Bloody sacrilege!"  He spat out the words.  "Fucking pagan shit!"  His hands clenched into fists.  Uma backed off, giving him room to blow.  He eyed the statue.  "Some fucking Goddess She is.... Doesn't She even know getting fucked by God shows His mastery over Her?"  His eyes glittered darkly.  "Shows who's the real boss, now doesn't it?" he sneered. 

To my surprise, Uma was nodding.  She whispered to me, "He's right."  I gave her a look.  Mastery?  That didn't sound quite right.  "He's right, Terry... before Christianity gained a foothold, most pagan religions believed the highest divine power to be female.  Early statues depicting Her typically showed a woman holding open her crudely exaggerated vagina.  Giving life- without the need for a male consort to achieve creation, you know?"

I pulled a face.  "Do we have to go through all that gynae stuff again?" 

She swatted my arm.  It felt good to tease her and I also wanted to diffuse this situation as best I could.  I did not want her upset now.  She'd been through enough already.  She leaned into me.  "To be honest, Terry, I was surprised to see that statue here.  Copulation with a male figure is a sign of the decline of Her power."

I raised my eyebrow.  "No longer omnipotent, but requiring a partner to make life?"  Tink nodded.  She is right.  Odd that such a statue would be here, highlighted so prominently on a pedestal under the ornate rotunda.  Perhaps it was another of Her tests.  Can you see beyond that farce to the real image of Her alone?  Interesting notion.   

She nodded.  "Actually, all religions do regard the virgin as the most powerful-"

"They bloody would..."  I snorted.  "Just like a woman to go and ruin the fun...."

My attention jumped back to Curry as he waded back into the little knot of people and took his son from Heather's arms.  She was crying softly and her eyes were wide and fearful.  Lachlan very deliberately gathered a tear from her face and used the moisture to trace the sign of the cross on his son's forehead. 

He marched past the statue of the entwined figures, cutting it dead, and strode purposefully to the lone figure of Dea in the corner.  He raised up his son defiantly.  "This is our son, Tristan Andrew Curry.  We give him to GOD..."  He took a tear from his own cheek and traced the sign of the cross once more on his son's forehead.  "I baptize him in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.  Amen."

A shocked silence followed his heated words.  His defiant anger spent, Lachlan's shoulders slumped in exhaustion as he held his young son to his chest and returned to us, stony faced and quiet.  It was Maximus who finally spoke into the stillness.

"That was foolish."  No censure in his voice, just the ring of truth.  And then he looked upon Tristan and smiled.  "However, it appears the Mother has overlooked your recklessness...."  A white shock of hair, about the size of a dime, now marked Tristan at his temple, contrasting starkly with his dark curls.  "He carries Her mark."  I heard Heather's gasp and saw Uma fingering Maia's bulla.  Curry's chin came up defiantly but Max's words stopped him.  "You have tested her enough today.  Your place is here."

"My place is with my family."  The steel in Lachlan's voice brought even Max up short.  "Wherever that is."  He cradled Tristan protectively against his chest.   

It was too much for Heather.  She crumpled.  Dino caught her before she fell.  Lachlan was concerned, but his physical and emotional state was little better.  I passed Maia back to Tink, ready to jump in and take charge... it is what I do best, after all- but Max beat me to it.

He addressed Dino first.  "Take them home.  Now.  They need food.  Rest."  His eyes lingered on Uma for a moment.  "They all do."  The softer look he had as he gazed upon her disappeared, replaced by his usual stoicism as he addressed me.  "You look after them.  I will dispose of this," he gestured to the shirt in his hands, "and then I will go back to the party to tell the others everyone has returned and are resting safely.  You all need time to recover.  They will understand." 

He pulled me aside as we moved towards the heavy oak doors and gestured to Heather and then to Lachlan's retreating back.  "She needs a doctor tomorrow.  Him too.  Arrange it."

I nodded.  "You just see to the ones here- and I'll take care of them.  No worries, mate."  He nodded back and we shook hands. 

I'm used to assessing people's physical state.  I knew what they needed.  Max was right.  Food.  Rest.  Medical attention.  A bath.  Clothes.  After I settled Tink and Maia, I would get them sorted straight away. 

Max oversaw us piling into the cars and I have to say, I felt good as the Temple lights disappeared from view.  I think all of us, me included, needed the peace I knew we'd find in Dino's haven.

We needed time to rest.  To think.  To process.  To talk.  To catch up.  We all had stories to share.  I needed to know what had happened to them.  I needed to tell someone who'd understand what had happened to us.  I needed to assure myself that they were safe the way I did with Tink and Maia when we first returned.  The way I still need to do now.  We had all been through so much.  And now, we needed time to simply be family.  Together.

MAXIMUS

Who would have ever imagined this day would end so finely?  The safe return of them all. The chance to feel Uma, happy and healthy, in my embrace once more.  To have the knowledge I now share the day of my birth with Heather's tiny son.  I cannot think of gifts more precious than that. 

I watched, alone, as the lights of their cars disappeared into the darkness and I said a small prayer for us all.

Ancestors, true bloodline, I ask you for your guidance.  Bring me your solace and wisdom.

Blessed Mother, come to me in my dreams with the Gods desire for my future.    

Blessed Father, watch over their families.  Whisper to them in their sleep that they are loved and that I will stand guard over them with a ready sword until all else is dust and air.