'No. The local who has been tending me these past few days?' Rhiannon continued her gruelling search for him.

'Aye,' Cadwallon acknowledged surely. 'That was me.'

'That was you?' Rhiannon's attention shot back in his direction, her heart all a-flutter in her chest. 'So it was you who was bethinking me as we travelled.'

'It was not my intent to deceive you, I just -'

'No.' Rhiannon approached, not wanting him to get her wrong. 'The things you said were beautiful.' Upon nearing him she noticed how well-built Cadwallon was.

This man was a warrior, like her brother.

'It is you who are beautiful,' he told her. 'You are every bit as brave and wonderful as you ever were.'

'Oh Goddess,' Rhiannon felt herself drowning in his eyes. 'Is it hot in here?' she inquired casually, fanning her face in the hope of composing herself.

'Of course.' Cadwallon held out his hands to her.

'Allow me to get you out of here. You can tell me the story of how we came to be in this wretched place at some later date.'

Rhiannon gladly took hold, closing her eyes to be transported somewhere else. It would be home, most likely; she must warm them of Doc's pending attack.

'Yes!' She opened her eyes to find herself alone in the crypt. 'Cadwallon?' She called meekly to him, fearful of waking the dead. 'Oh shit! The module must have prevented him from teleporting me.' She shrugged if off, thinking he would return at any moment. But as time dragged on, she recalled that Cadwallon had been unconscious for the last part of the trek, and the module would prevent him from willing himself back to her.

'Oh Goddess no,' Rhiannon uttered. 'Please let him find me.'

'Sorry about that.' Cadwallon reappeared, with Rhun. 'I got a bit caught up with your brother here.'

'Rhun.' Rhiannon rushed to his familiar embrace.

'Are you alright?' He checked her over, hugging her intermittently.

'I'm fine, really I am. But,' she turned back to Cadwallon, 'how did you locate me?'

'Are you kidding?' He glanced around. 'This place lingers in your memory.'

'Oh Rhun.' Rhiannon's mind skipped to more important matters. 'We must evacuate Watarrka at once. Doc knows of its existence and is planning an attack.'

'Whoa girl, slow down,' Rhun urged. 'We have already relocated.'

Rhiannon closed her eyes to say a quiet, thank you, whilst Rhun pulled an ENZU-GUZ from his pocket and cut her loose from the module's restraining device.

'Let's get you back to the Goddess, hey.' Rhun took one of her arms, and Cadwallon the other, and together they conveyed her back to base.

Five coffins made of various precious metals were laid out before Doc, one next to the other. The separation procedure had taken place in a long, wide gallery in the west wing of Doc's manor. He'd had the area cleared, to be alone with his colleague when he awoke. All the curtains had been drawn and candles lit the room. The smallest coffin, made of gold, was the only one still sealed.

'I have missed you, my friend.' Doc gazed at the ornately carved figure of Temujin resting peacefully on the lid. 'Through the ages, there are few people I have trusted so well as you.'

At Doc's willing it, the heavy gold doors of the coffin opened to expose the skeletal remains of the warrior, fully attired in battle dress.

'You boasted often that you were the son of a God.'

Doc removed the stopper from the vial in his hand, as he positioned himself at the head of the casket.

'If your claim to divinity be true, let you stand before me now, the warrior, the friend, the brother, that once I knew.'

Doc poured the elixir over the skull of Temujin, and held his breath. He really needed an ally now, someone he could trust beyond question.

'Temujin is not one of the Chosen - it is a waste of time trying to resurrect him.'

The comment startled Doc and he did a quick about-face to find a woman whom he knew not. And then, in the next instant, he thought he recognised her. He marvelled at her strange, black attire and all the gadgets and weapons she sported. 'How did you get in here?'

'You let me in,' she replied, taking a seat on a nearby table.

Doc noticed the symbol of the serpent on the shoulder of her suit. 'What can I do for you, I am in the middle of something here -'

'The base at Watarrka has been abandoned, Doc. If you were hoping your dead friend there was going to assist you to attack the serpent's clan, you're wasting your time.

The only strategist you need the aid of right now, is me.'

'And why should I believe you?' She only smiled at the question and Doc worked at preventing his jaw from hitting the ground - the woman was beautiful. Tall and slender, she had pale, ivory skin that was in vast contrast to her long, brown locks and eyes of ebony. 'I know you, don't I?' His memory was doing overtime trying to place her.

She nodded in encouragement. 'Think harder, Caradoc.'

'Caradoc, eh.' Doc turned and walked away from her, searching his memories for the answer. 'Vanora.'

He turned his eyes back in her direction. 'If I remember rightly, you left me to rot in your father's dungeon.'

'Well, I was possessed at the time,' she said defensively. 'But back in Atlantis I was your wife for hundreds of years and in Troy we were wed for near to sixty ... are you going to let one bad lifetime spoil an almost perfect track record?'

'I don't believe I need anything from one who is in league with the Serpent's clan.'

'But you are one of us, Cadwaladr.'

'No! I have never been one of you!' He flew into a rage. 'I have always been on the outside, looking in.'

'And do you know why?' Vanora queried calmly, as if he were as relaxed as she.

'Because Taliesin locked me out!'

'No, my sweet. Shamash locked you out, and he locked you out on purpose. I have the proof.' She held up a headband.

'What is that?'

'It is a recording of the murder of your father, Cadwallon.'

'That does sound entertaining.' Doc grinned, but he was still wary of the unfamiliar device.

'There's nothing to penetrate the skin. It's perfectly harmless.' She held it out to him. 'Just put it on your head.'

He took the device in hand, but was still hesitant to wear it.

'Cadwaladr,' she implored him gently. 'All your life you've wanted someone to aid and guide you in times of crisis. Well, here I am. If it is allies and friends you seek, you have many. Don't allow Shamash to keep you locked out any longer. If you do, you could spend the rest of eternity regretting it. Shamash is going down, and your resolve in this instant will decide whether or not you are condemned with him.'

Doc gazed at Vanora as she assisted him to position the mechanism on his temples. 'Blind trust. This is a first for me,' he told her.

'Close your eyes.' She gently stroked his lids with her fingertips. 'And allow all to be made clear.'

When Doc had perceived the entire recording, tears were welling in his eyes. He removed the device, pressing his fingers hard into his tear ducts to stop the flow of emotion. 'My whole life has been a lie,' he realised. Cadwaladr had not felt the urge to weep since he was a small child, but his remorse and anger in that instant were so overwhelming that he was tempted to succumb to the pain he felt. 'Goddamn my ignorance!'

'It wasn't your fault,' Vanora placed a hand on his shoulder. 'The Dragon knows that.'

Doc shrugged off her touch; the very mention of his great forefather enraged him. He was so used to despising his kin, that now he didn't know what to feel.

'I have betrayed everyone! I have lied, I have schemed, I have killed, to avenge the wrong done me -'

Vanora made haste to grip both his hands, before he worked himself into a state. 'But still you were "Chosen", Cadwaladr.'

This realisation silenced him.

'There are no accidents in that regard.' Vanora's eyes were diverted to the coffin behind Doc, where the reconstituting remains of Temujin arose to a seated position. 'I stand corrected,' she uttered, aghast. 'This is unexpected.'

'No, it isn't. This man is one of the finest who ever lived. Some histories blackened his name and he and his conquests have been widely misunderstood.' Doc moved to greet the age-old warrior, who was once again in his prime. 'Temujin, old friend, I have returned for you as vowed.'

Doc had switched to the Khan's native tongue and Vanora understood it perfectly. All the Chosen were well practiced in telepathy.

Temujin leapt from his resting place, alarmed. His dark eyes darted about, assessing his situation.

Suddenly he sprang into a triple backflip, before coming to rest a safe distance away from his company.

'Who are you?' He looked from Doc to Vanora and back again.

'Sorry, my fault.' Doc urged the warrior to stand easy, having realised his error.

The newly-revived twelfth century conqueror stared in amazement as Doc's pale blue eyes turned dark as night. His short, blond hair turned black and thickened as it grew to his waist. The soft features of his face hardened into those of Cadwaladr, and his body erupted with muscles that threatened to tear through Doc's comfortably fitting shirt.

The Khan relaxed as he recognised his host, and opened his arms wide. 'Cadwaladr, my brother.'

'Indeed,' he affirmed as he approached to embrace Temujin. 'Welcome, mighty Khan, to the twenty-first century.'

28.

THE GATHERING.

The Goddess was submerged at the bottom of the Persian Gulf when Tory and Maelgwn rejoined her. They had the reconstructed, washed and partly-clothed Dumuzi with them, who was still over-amorous, but under control.

Dumuzi had begun to radiate light as soon as his body had become whole. He was short for one of the Nefilim breed, being scarcely taller than Maelgwn. His glowing amber eyes gave him a devilish appearance, as did his straight, amber-brown hair that fell to a point in the middle of his forehead. When offered a flight suit to wear, the God would only succumb to wearing the bottom half. Dumuzi was not affected by temperature and liked to flaunt his tanned muscular body at all times. Clothes were against his religion.

'Look at all these beautiful women.' Dumuzi kissed the hand of every one he could. When he tried his charms on Boadicea, however, she socked him one in the eye.

Maelgwn was pleased to see Talynn had found Angus, whose perfect incarnation went by the name of Ethan. Still unconscious, they had tied Ethan in a chair just in case he came out of his coma swinging punches.

'Hello, father.' Rhiannon emerged from the crowd to meet the legendary Dragon she'd heard so much about.

Her appearance floored Maelgwn for only a second.

'Hello, Princess.' He drew her to his chest to hug her as Miles used to.

'It is you.' She squeezed him tight, moved to tears.

'Well, who were you expecting. Superman?'

Maelgwn posed in jest, which made her smile.

As Tory watched her husband and her daughter become reacquainted, Rhun's arms enfolded her waist from behind and she glanced over her shoulder at him.

'How about that. The whole family together in the same place, at the same time.'

'It's a miracle to be sure.' Tory smiled, leaning back against her son to enjoy the moment.

'Oh, speaking of family ...' Rhun thought he'd best keep her informed. 'No one has seen hide nor hair of Myrddin or Taliesin since the day the other half of our force arrived.'

'That's odd,' Tory mused. 'I was under the impression they would be here guiding us through this.'

'You don't think ...' Brian had overheard the conversation. His voice trailed off as he shook his head in rejection of the idea.

'What?' Tory insisted.

'Do you think they had a perfect other half?'

'Aye, they do.' Maelgwn broke from the conversation he was having with Rhiannon. 'I know Taliesin's female half. Her name is Seshut. She has been an adviser and scribe to Marduk all through his exile.

Myrddin's true love, however, has been trapped in a part of the Otherworld that has been shut off from this plane since before I was born. It was said that the window to that place would re-open at the time of the Gathering.'

'Avalon,' Tory surmised, thinking it all very romantic. 'Then the perfect incarnation of our mother must have been Vivien, the Lady of the Lake. No wonder we could never get Dad to leave England for any great length of time.'

'But he never mentioned any of this to us,' Brian protested. 'I was under the impression that merlins were beyond the need for earthly pleasures?'

This notion put a smile on the face of everyone within earshot, as all had been indulged of late.

'Their desire to seek each other is wholly spiritual, for until they are joined with their other half, they cannot evolve to a higher plane of consciousness.'

Maelgwn found the notion beautiful and rather comforting.