Jared Telson sat in his tent, reading an article on ancient Mesopotamian lore. One obscure variation of the legend of Gilgamesh stated that a star had fallen from the heavens, and warned him of a great adversary, but not Humbaba as the traditional legend stated. The variation then continued to tell that he and Humbaba fought against the third force, apparently a demon of some kind. Then in the rest of Gilgamesh’s and Humbaba’s adventures, they slew demons that were the spawn of the first. But, then again, everything was a demon to the Sumerians.

Jared then pulled out a rubbing of a chamber wall he had discovered just the day before. It depicted a Zeus-like being was combating with a huge being with fangs the battle continued for several frames, with the god hurling bolts of lighting and fireballs at the creature. The final frame showed a circle of people around the demon, encircling it in some sort of aura. It was very uncharacteristic of ancient art. One being even seemed to have some kind of laser gun.

It would certainly be a terrible loss if the FBI found reason to restrict the dig site. He pondered the extremely bizarre events that had recently occurred. He had not previously known that the FBI involved itself with archeological digs. He was even more stunned to learn that the FBI had extended its jurisdiction outside American soil on this occasion.

Jared laid down the work and rubbed his eyes. Taking a sip from his thermos of coffee, he noticed that there was a commotion outside among the Feds. He stepped out of the tent and looked around in shock. Three agents dashed by with full riot armor on, carrying shields and very, very large guns. In the distance, he heard gunfire and screaming. Soon, a helicopter joined in the ruckus. Then a wracking explosion shook the ground. Jared stood confused and shocked as the mouth to the tomb was sealed in rock. For a moment, the commotion stopped and there was an eerie peace. A distant cheer was heard in the night.

Then, Jared felt a horrendous inner pain and the world went dark.

Thousands of miles away, an attractive young brunette strolled toward a payphone in a crowded shopping mall. Gina Richardson peered around the mall as she conversed. The enticing aroma of artery-clogging fast food wafted through the air. It was good to finally be back in the states.

Pausing at the phone, she glanced quickly around the little booth as if searching for something. She grinned as she noticed a vulgar message penned in blue ink and underlined in red. "For a good time, call 158-0046. Ask for Gina."

She dialed an odd permutation of that number and waited only until the ringing stopped to say, "Charlie Hotel Papa four, what is my new assignment?"

The soft hum of a stealth jet engine hung like a shadow behind the voice one the other line. "I just got the news. Good hit Marionette. Congrats. Details will be at site four in Karbala at 0200 hours. You will be leading a team of six, coded Capulet. Raven out."

Marionette cursed to herself as she hung up the phone. Teams pissed her off. The amateurs were always screwing around. As she walked out of the front door into the hot summer air, Marionette recalled the last amateur she worked with. He was some putz named Jimmy. He was supposedly a hotshot out of SEAL training- Didn't even have a code name get. He missed a single person on a sweep of a hostile covert operations outpost. "Oh, I couldn't kill the kid- he looked only twelve." The very next day, that same twelve-year-old hunted Jimmy down and nailed him with a cocktail in his morning coffee. Once she realized what happened, Marionette barely got out of the hotel room before it went up in flames.

After that, hunting down that one twelve year old cost the Agency three men on four different missions before they finally assigned Locksleigh to plug him in broad daylight. Damn messy fiasco. She didn't get it. The Agency had ample infant agents like Locksleigh and herself, why did they continue to hire amateurs? And force the infant agents to babysit them on "teams." I almost made her wish that their Russian counterpart hadn't had their budget cut.

And where'd they come up with a team tag like Capulet? Marionette ran down the list of pointmen that could possibly have inspired the name. Two stood out as possiblilities: Paris and Tybalt. Paris was an agent since fifteen. It wouldn't be too bad working with him, but to would certainly be a treat to work with Tybalt, AKA Xavier Quinn. He was trained from birth in the middle of the cold war heat- one of the handful of infant agents, as was Marionette. Fat chance she'd get to be calling the shots for him.

Marionette opened her car door and climbed in. Knowing her luck, she'd get some kid tagged Balthazar who was fresh out of paint ball camp. She checked in the glove compartment. First class tickets! The agency must be getting soft. Either that or they didn’t expect her to return, and this was to be her retirement bonus. She checked her passport: Federal Marshal Paulina Carter. Traveling as government officials was always the best way to travel, next to hanging onto the landing gear of a 747.

Twelve hours and six cups of coffee later, Marionette came to the drop point- a telephone booth on the outer suburbs of Karbala. Crowds of Iraqis milled about the market under the sweltering sun outside. She went in and took out the telephone book. A page inside was written in code. She ripped it out and brought it out to her car. Once inside, she deciphered the names of her team members. Just glancing over the code names, she got a vast anxiety over the mission. Tybalt was the pointman, but that was just the beginning. All six team members were infant agents; in fact, there were only three infant agents she knew of who weren’t on the mission.

Locksleigh was the sniper. The young Italian sharpshooter had been known to plug jet pilots from the ground with a single shot. Delphi was recon. According to his success record, 438-0, he was second best infiltration artist, next to Tybalt. Powder, the youngest infant agent, was the demolitionist, and Widow was the toxins expert. This was one incredible team.

Marionette was loath to decode the mission objectives. With this team, world domination very well could have been the objective. She could imagine the decoded print now: TAKE OUT ALL FOREIGN GENERALS WITHIN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS. TAKE OUT ALL FOREIGN COMMISSIONED OFFICERS WITHIN TWELVE DAYS. She grinned to herself as she began decoding. They were heading to an archeological dig site. All six deadly assassins were going to inspect an ancient tomb, a pile of bricks with a pile of bones inside of it. This was pathetic; the agency had to be getting soft. She continued reading. Extraterrestrial craft was reported by archeologists... an FBI field investigation team slaughtered... ahhh- now the interesting part. The secret service was sent with a SEAL team. Contact was lost as they entered the tomb. One archeologist remains living and is the prime suspect.

The deadly brunette started her car and pulled into the street. She'd have to brush up on ancient lore and archaic booby traps. It had been at least three years since she came up against "supernatural" beings, but if she could deal with infrared sensors and automatic weapons, she could most certainly deal with trip wires and flying spears. With that in mind, she began to contact her team.

13, 15, 17... 21. Marionette knocked on the motel door, being careful not to bump into any windows.

"Who's there?"

"It's Gina, sweetie."

The door opened a crack and once she saw who it really was, Powder backed in to let her associate enter. "Marionette! What is this- a training mission?"

"Sweetie, do you sincerely think that the agency would send me to baby-sit rookies?" Marionette said, despite her earlier fears of getting stuck with rookies.

"I dunno. They’ve done it to me. Are there any others?" Powder tucked a revolver back into her belt and began packing her equipment.

"Locksleigh, Tybalt, Widow, and Delphi."

"Oh my! It must be the Apocalypse!"

"No, then it'd be Hemlock, Flint and the two of us. The four horsemen, remember?"

Powder laughed at the memory of a hit that was finished just last year. The four professionals annihilated a terrorist base camp, killing well over three hundred international criminals before the explosion wiped out the rest. No hostiles even got close to the missile firing station and the media never had a clue. The single surviving terrorist told the press of four people leaving the scene on horseback. Powder was promptly demoted for failing to include the terrorists’ pissing tree in the blast radius. It didn’t really matter much to her, she was the only infant demolitionist, and decades younger than her all of her retired teachers. Demolition was certainly a dying art.

"You get the rest of the team; I’ve got to get some shuteye, then I’ll go meet our contact." Marionette handed Powder the directives before she turned and left.

A twenty-one-year-old sniper sat in a motel room, bored stiff. These were the times that made him wish he were a better close-up agent. Snipers were too conventional and too hard to cover up. Nowadays, most of his hits were on various drug lords, whose deaths went entirely unnoticed in the legal community. His last job ended more than week ago and he'd been sitting in this god-forsaken motel waiting for the next rendezvous.

For the twentieth time that day, he took out his primary rifle and turned on the television. He considered shutting the blinds. He was in freaking Karbala- no one would stop you if they saw you polishing a high powered rifle in a motel room. He shut the blinds anyway. The latest news on the television was rather intriguing. A well-known Bosnian terrorist was found dead of a heart attack the night before. His bodyguards swore that there had been a conspiracy and that his European girlfriend had done him in.

Locksleigh smiled to himself. If it was the Agency, it was no amateur. Maybe it was Widow, or perhaps even Marionette. Given the time bracket, the assassin might have ended up on his team. Unfortunately, they usually only put one infant agent on a team, and he was it. Maybe it was a high priority mission, and he wouldn't get stuck with a bunch of amateurs. He could only hope.

Even as he was dreaming up his strike team of scantily clad femme fatales, a knock came at the door. "Who’s there?"

"Room service!" the voice called out in flawless Arabic, then after a pause, in Kurdish, but the voice sounded far too perky.

Locksleigh frowned. He hadn’t ordered anything, and it wasn’t time for the bed to be made. He put the rifle away and checked the pistol in his holster. He peered out of a little slit he’d left between the curtains. The mirror he had set outside for this express purpose was gone. This was either a very effective assassin or a very effective cleaning lady. "One minute." He checked his gun once more and went to the door. He opened it quickly and poised to dive out of the way. There was no one there. He dove behind his bed and drew his pistol.

Before he could peer over the bed, something flew overhead and landed on the carpet behind him. Suddenly his gun was knocked away and a cloth was shoved in him mouth, right over his cyanide cap. He went for his boot knife to find it already gone. In an amazing stroke of luck, he managed to spit out the cloth. Before he could bite down, the assassin grabbed him and kissed him. It tasted of strawberries. Locksleigh relaxed.

"Kat, I wish you would cut out these fancy entrances," he said when she finally let him come up for air, "I might actually get good at close quarters one of these days. Then you’d be in trouble."

"Oh, don’t put yourself down- you’re good," the nineteen-year-old agent smiled, replacing his knife and gun, "I’m just better. Anyway, I just couldn’t contain my excitement."

"Why? Are we assigned together?" Locksleigh already knew they were, otherwise she wouldn’t have contacted him.

"Not just that, but I’m not the ranking officer on the team," Widow, his young assailant, sat back against the wall, catching her breath.

"Who doesn’t rank you?" Locksleigh glared comically, sliding his dagger back in his boot.

"You don’t!" Widow retorted. "Come on! Guess!"

"Let’s see." Locksleigh decided to start with the women, "Powder? Does she still rank you after she missed that one target? Wait- Marionette?"

"Both."

"Worse. The spawn of Satin," Widow grinned.

"The spawn of Satin?" Locksleigh looked bewildered; "They’re back again?"

Marionette strode into a dimly lit bar as inconspicuously as was possible for a stunningly beautiful brunette. It took little effort to locate her contact among the locals. She came up to the slightly built student from behind. "Mr.Telson?"

The apprentice archeologist glanced up from a mug of beer. Despite the fact that four mugs and six shot glasses were drained in front of the slightly built young man, his face and eyes showed no sign of intoxication.

"Yes?"

"I’m agent Gina Richardson. The FBI told me there was a situation that requires attention."

"They sent a woman?"

"Excuse me?"

"Whatever’s down there took out a SEAL team, and they sent a woman?"

"I’m sorry. Would you be so kind as to direct me to the site of the ruins?"

"The coordinates are 23, 52, Alpha. You can’t miss the site." He turned back to his drink.

Marionette paused, stunned. The man had just given her coordinates in a top-secret code that only agency operatives used. Marionette was loathe to turn her back as she left the bar to join her comrades who had assembled outside.

"Hey, Marionette. We were just discussing your stint with the Bosnian…" Widow was the first to greet and embrace her childhood friend, "What’s wrong?"

"He gave me Agency coordinates."

The rest of the team stopped flirting with each other and they fell silent filled with intrigue.

"Well, we'll have to kill him- simple as that. After the assignment though." Marionette broke the uneasy silence, "I take it Tybalt and Delphi are already at the site?"

"Yep, they took off in a hurry. Delphi already had all of his new toys to go with the agency’s new satellite," Powder elaborated.

"Good, we’ll follow the recon team in one hour... So, anyone know where to have a good time in Karbala?"

Delphi and Tybalt coasted across the pitch-black landscape in a modified Hummer. They used no headlights the entire way there. The ride was reminiscent of the boyhood driving lessons the two had taken at "the academy." Though driving completely by old aerial data and Delphi’s detection equipment, the two made surprisingly good time. Constant variations in the terrain made the two-hour ride interesting, forbidding idle conversation.

The two finally entered the ravaged campsite only after a meticulous thermal scan. It looked like a typical archeological campsite. Everything was in order except for the bodies. Delphi made a note of the dead. Some had been mauled. Others had vertebrae broken. Others had small swollen wounds, which were likely caused by venomous implements. Strangest of all, further investigation revealed that there were no scavengers of any kind at the site. The entire site was even free of flies, even though they were in the midst of a typically insect ridden season. Delphi then recalled that the thermal scan had turned up completely negative. There wasn’t even a stench at the site, suggesting there weren’t even microbes in the bodies. It looked like the work of an overzealous assassin with an extremely potent toxin, yet scanners had shown that it was safe to explore the area without haz-mat suits on.

Delphi had bent over to examine an unusually large footprint when a howl ripped though the night. For the first time in his life, Delphi felt a shiver travel up his back. He decided he didn’t like it. The sound had come from the dig site. Delphi followed Tybalt who had already started to go back to the car. The thermal scanner now showed a large body prowling in the pit. It was just running around in circles and howling occasionally, as if exciting itself, or communicating. The two men sat in the car armed, watching the ring of dirt in the distance where an ancient tomb lay open with a very large creature laying in wait.

Suddenly another form appeared on the scanner. It was a car engine. The headlights lights were off, but the car deftly avoided all the bumps and ruts, though it was clearly not the other part of the team. The car stopped several hundred feet away and the slightly built driver got out and started walking toward the pit. It was too dark to tell who it was, but just in case, Locksleigh plugged him with a tranquilizer. The two went out to check out the unconscious person. It was no surprise that it was Jared Telson, the young archeologist. Put him into their car and stripped him of his only weapon, an old ceremonial dagger. Tybalt had just closed the door when Delphi cried out. "Nine in five!"

Two gunshots rang out from the other side of the car and a beastly cry ripped through the desert air. Five. Tybalt pulled a forty-five mm handgun from his holster. Four. He dropped to his knees and cocked the weapon.

Three. Tybalt turned and saw the creature thundering toward him. At a glimpse, it appeared to be a giant wolf with tusks. Two. He turned to see Delphi retreating in order to take a shot with a Triton Four. One. Tybalt took cover under the car. Zero. The beast’s paws pounded the earth, inches away from Tybalt’s face. He wriggled out and emptied his clip into the animal’s underside. He heard a crackle in the air and smelled burnt flesh as Delphi pumped the beast full of aluminum ion rounds.

Tybalt reloaded his gun and rolled out the other side of the car. As he rose from the ground, two things became apparent. First, the animal on the other side of the car had survived at least six hits with the Triton Four and was trying to get up. Secondly, their human prisoner was waking from a toxin-induced coma that should have had him unconscious for a week. Hoping to remedy both issues, Tybalt yanked the pins from two grenades, rolling one under the car and lobbing the second over the car.

Five seconds later, the car went up in flames and the beast finally lay still, its head severed from its other body parts. Finally, the noise stopped. Only the peaceful crackle of the burning car penetrated the night. Tybalt walked cautiously up to the wreckage. The body of the young archeologist was annihilated beyond recognition.

Another howl cut through the night, and another answered it a few seconds later. Ignoring them as best he could, Tybalt retrieved two soot covered, metal briefcases from the wreckage and brought them over to where Delphi was sitting.

"Didn’t even break a sweat?" Delphi asked Tybalt.

"For an animal? Never. So, what did we find out here?"

"Well, we obviously have a hostile situation. I’m guessing that thing was some sort of biological experiment gone wrong, like that mutated anthrax that we had to fry, except in large form. There could be more in the pit. This looks like an operation for Powder. Blow it sky high, and hope for the best. Unfortunately, we have to be able to provide cover for Powder while she rigs the thing to blow. That’s your and Marionette’s expertise."

A deeper, angrier howl stabbed deep into the two assassins. Delphi shivered, "I wish they’d stop that."

As if on cue, a satellite phone rang from inside Tybalt’s coat pocket. He checked the time, answered it and promptly hung up. A few seconds later, another land rover drove up to the two of them. Marionette stepped out first. "So, what’s up?" she indicated the destroyed car with a jerk of her head.

"We killed Telson and a beast of some kind. We had to completely annihilate the beast though. It just would not die. Oh, and here’s a dagger Telson had," Tybalt handed Marionette the black dagger.

"What did it take to ‘annihilate’ the beast?" Locksleigh asked, checking over his arsenal.

"A grade two grenade in five foot proximity did the trick. Six shots, center of mass with a Triton Four was not effective," Delphi answered.

"I can top that," Locksleigh began to assemble a very large rifle.

"This looks like an operation for you, Powder. Can you rig…" Tybalt paused, seeing what Powder had just removed from her weapons case, "What is that?"

"A laser."

"Laser?"

"Not the zapping kind, the painting kind. They gave me heavy artillery for this one. At my discretion, I am permitted to call in an air strike. Talon is standing by in his jet."

All the agents suddenly got severe anxiety over the mission. Talon flew one of the five escort fighters for the Raven, one of the two agency base jets. He was the only fighter pilot who was an infant agent. The agency was compromising their security for this one mission. It suddenly struck them all that once Talon was in proximity, there would be seven infant agents within a mile radius. This was an unprecedented concentration of senior agents.

"Give me the phone," Marionette ordered Tybalt.

She dialed Raven’s number and punched in her security code. "This is Marionette. Alpha Capulet."

"This is unscheduled."

"This is an agency security matter."

"What is it?"

"There is an unprecedented use of agency force on mission Capulet."

"Jackal and Shadow were terminated unexpectedly on their missions in your proximity. Continue with your assignment. Raven out," the line went dead.

The other agents had stopped whatever they were doing, and they all looked questioningly at Marionette.

"Don’t worry, we’re not being terminated by the agency. Jackal and Shadow were killed on this same mission. Let’s take the bastards out."

As if in response, Locksleigh slammed shut the bolt to his tank killing assault rifle.

The team moved toward the outcrop indicated on the map. As they approached, Locksleigh and Powder broke off to the right and ascended a large boulder. Each team member wore a two-way radio and infrared glasses. The rest of the team spread out along the ridge. Powder took out her laser and sighted the rubble that marked the entrance to the catacomb. "Are you sure he’ll be able to take out the entire catacomb from the air?" Locksleigh asked Powder as found a comfortable perch on the rock.

"He’s supposed to use bunker penetrating bombs," Powder then switched her radio to link to Talon’s jet, "Talon, you’re clear to go." She trained the laser at the catacombs and waited.

Minutes later, jet exhaust could be seen on the horizon in infrared. There was something wrong. Locksleigh looked to Powder she nodded. The jet was coming in too low for a high altitude bombing run. Suddenly the jet arced upward. Locksleigh said "Looks like he’s doing a maverick run, but he’s going to miss the dig site…Shit! Turn off your laser!"

Powder had already caught on. Leaving the laser on, she ran and hurled it over the outcropping. "Get clear. Bogie in the air!"

The rest of the team who had been watching the dig site below ran to join Powder and Locksleigh behind the boulder. Locksleigh checked his rifle and watched the fighter swoop down. It released a payload, but they weren’t missiles. Flares on parachutes were deployed, lighting up the night. Then the jet pulled up out of range. "Bastard thinks he can take us out." He muttered as he looked through the sight.

"He will take us out in a second if we don’t split up," Marionette started shouting orders for a defense.

Suddenly, a beast bounded over the outcropping. Locksleigh sighted its head and took a shot. He didn’t even check to confirm the kill before loading another round. "Nice shot!" Widow exclaimed as she dashed from behind the boulder to take cover behind a little rock ridge. As the jet came down toward them for the attack run, two more beasts leaped over the ridge. "I’m going to need you guys to take care of the animals."

Locksleigh took careful aim at the descending jet and waited for it to come into range. He had no doubt that Talon already had him in sight and was waiting for an easy shot. He could imagine the beasts closing the distance as the seconds wore by. Eerie wails and moans filled the air between the sharp sounds of shots fired and grenades exploding. Then the jet dropped a missile. It was probably an anti-personnel carpet bomb to take out the entire team at once. Talon took aim and fired. The tank killer ripped a hole in the big cruise missile, fragmenting and detonating the bomblets inside. The explosion rocked the jet and ripped it apart, sending flaming wreckage to the ground.

Locksleigh looked to the ground see one of the beasts bearing down on him. It was bleeding profusely and one forelimb was completely severed, but still it came at him. He took another round from his belt and opened the rifle’s bolt, but he knew it was too late. The beast pounced. Locksleigh dove out of the way and drew his pistol. As the beast landed and turned, Locksleigh emptied his clip into its head to no avail. One final option lay open to him. Locksleigh took out a grenade and pulled the pin. The beast came pounding at him and pounced one last time. As he was knocked to the ground, Locksleigh only hoped that the team would manage to escape.

The other members of the team barely noticed the explosion that ripped through the night air; a new adversary had come to challenge the hunters. A huge beast had come flying over the ledge, swooping down on Widow. It’s membrane wings folded as if dove, talons extended from four limbs and fangs bared. A hail of toxic pins struck the beast, but what would have killed the population of a small nation only enraged the beast and prompted it to dismember the cause of his annoyance. The four remaining team members spread out over the desert terrain. Marionette shouted orders for the heaviest firepower available. As if it sensed that she was in command, the beast directed its attention towards her. As it lumbered toward his leader, Delphi took careful aim at the beast and fired three shots at a front leg, nearly severing it.

The creature roared in pain and turned toward Delphi and swung his tail violently towards him. A shard of some sort went flying and struck Delphi in the chest, knocking him unconscious. Taking this chance, Tybalt lunged out from behind a rock and rolled two grenades at the monster. It leapt straight into the air and unfolded its wings as the both grenades exploded. An instant later, he was upon Tybalt. He managed to empty a clip and toss two more grenades before the beast reached him. Four men down. These were grounds for drastic measures. Powder and Marionette came into full sight and hurled everything they had at it. The creature leapt into flight once more, and Powder blasted a hole in its wing with an elephant gun, dropping it to the ground. They tossed three grenades as it recovered, and it evaded the blast of all three, completely losing its injured limb, but not relenting in the least.

It lumbered toward Marionette at a steady pace as bullets pelted its body. Then it paused to prepare to pounce. The last grenades were hurled at it, and it lost most of its wings as it tried to turn from the blast. Now severely hindered, it dashed at Marionette who exhausted the rest of her ammunition. As it closed, she reached for her boot knife, which in six years of action, she had never needed to draw. She opted to throw it and she struck with excellent accuracy, but still the animal persisted. At this point, Powder had also exhausted her ammunition and was charging from behind, with a dagger in hand. Marionette saw her best chance in standing firm and waiting for Powder to take action.

So she stood. The beast continued. Twenty yards. Ten yards. As the beast closed to five yards, she came to the realization that she had one last weapon. He delved into her vest pocket and drew the ceremonial dagger, tested its balance and let fly. It struck the monster square in the head and it howled a vicious howl. Bright green blood flowed from the wound as it collapsed. Powder came up from behind and disemboweled it as a force of habit, even though she knew these creatures could sustain far more serious injuries. The night finally lay silent and the two surviving agents sat and rested quietly in the cool, peaceful air.

Hundreds of miles away, a prophet awakened from a deep trance. He was a man of ageless character, but youthful countenance and disposition. He turned to an armed guard in a dark suit next to him, "Another of the seals have been broken."

"What can we do?"

"Aries has been completely revived. He will be here tomorrow. We’ll have to inform him."

"Aries here, in New York? Like, physically?"

"Well, I suppose his successor. These long distance visions aren’t exactly clear, you know."

"What about the rest of the immortals?" a second guard, the only other man in the room asked.

"Well, the three sisters of Fate’s descendants are starting to materialize. I think one’s a male, relatively close by. The funny thing is, I think all three are really close by, and are actually at least acquainted. A have no idea where the others are. I guess we’ll just have to wait for them, but we’ll have to go to Battery Park City tomorrow to meet Aries and his companions. I think he had tagged his powers to one of his weapons. Probably not his sword, that would be too obvious. Maybe a helmet or something."

"After three thousand years, I suppose waiting another day can’t hurt. Not to mention, the big fight is on tonight." He replied, mentioning the hyped up boxing rematch between Evander Holyfield and Mike Tyson.

"Not worth watching. Holyfield wins. Tyson bites his ear and they call the fight." The prophet said nonchalantly while reaching for a beer.

"Damn it! I hate it when you do that! You take all the fun out of these things. Well, at least, we can all still wonder about meeting Aries."

The Prophet took a sip from the beer can and shrugged, turning on the television. He and his counterpart were men of a line of guardians- guardians of the prophet, who, likewise, was of a line of prophets. The three families have endured everything together. Originally, there were five families, but two managed to fizzle out of existence despite the prophet’s abilities- one in the hysteria of World War I and one during the Inquisition.

The three companions now sat together, passing the time watching television in an ordinary house in Queens, their spouses out spending the material fruit of a prophetic mind. Had they been lived under any other circumstance, they would have been filthy rich for certain, but to avoid attention, they maintained a moderate lifestyle. It was a comfortable life, though there were conflicts, which arose from the cohabitation of three families. Cries of "Johnny stole my Barbies", "Tammy took my seat", and the occasional "Phil used his powers to cheat in hide and go seek again" constantly disturbed the otherwise tranquil surroundings.

But times had gotten stressful indeed and there were fewer trips to the zoo and fewer days in the country. Preparation that began and ended in past millennia was now coming into effect as prophecies unfolded. For now, a long subway ride and a walk at the Battery Park City waterfront awaited to pass the time.

The three men stopped by a deli to buy a lottery ticket, being careful only to get the five numbers correct. The caught a subway at the corner station and transferred twice to eventually arrive at the World Trade Center, where they began their search for someone who resembled a Greek god with three companions.

Marionette and Powder sat at a bench in Battery Park City, two days after their encounter with the beasts. After that Marionette had slain four more of the smaller monsters before they entered the catacombs. The dagger was extremely effective against the beasts. Inside the ruin they had found numerous other artifacts, which they collected and brought with them. Finding the site clear of the beasts, they left Karbala. They had also activated the emergency codes and the remaining senior agents were to meet them at the meeting spot. Both were extremely tired. Marionette was taking a nap on the bench while Powder waited for their comrades.

Powder was watching a boat race on the river and enjoying a cool summer breeze when she spotted an agent approaching. It was Flint, a gunman nearly as accurate as Locksleigh, but far better in gunfights. She could have spotted him a mile away with his shock of blond hair and his trench coat sleeves rolled to the elbows. She had asked him once about ever changing his appearance to avoid being assassinated, and he simply answered, "I don’t recall ever leaving anyone alive to identify me."

He strutted his way over and took a spot next to her on the rail. "Hey baby, what’s up?"

Despite the somber conditions of their meeting, Powder laughed at his meager attempt to sound like an insensitive pig. "Hey, hot stuff."

"Hemlock will be here in about ten minutes- he went to park the rental car. We ran into each other at the airport." Hemlock was a relatively elderly agent, at forty-five, he had just been about ready for retirement. He would definitely not be pleased by the turn of events. In fact, he had been Widow’s mentor since she finished "primary school." He would definitely not be pleased with her death.

"Have you heard anything from the others? I know Jackal and Shadow were killed in Karbala. Widow, Delphi, Tybalt, and Locksleigh all went down in Karbala with me."

"Serra was poisoned. Paris was blown up. I heard Freud and Spade died in plane crashes and Viper and Sarin both got shot. What about Talon?"

"We...He attacked our unit. Locksleigh took him out."

"So, it looks like it’s just going to be the four horsemen."

"Yeah-hey, there’s Hemlock now."

A dark-haired middle aged man in a tweed jacket walked up to them. "Big news."

"What?"

"Two unidentifiable black jumbo jets went down just an hour ago. One went down in Minnesota, and the other crashed near Taipei, Taiwan."

The agents looked at each other, stunned. "Who could have done it?" Powder inquired.

Hemlock moved Marionette’s feet slightly and sat down wearily next to her sleeping form. "Someone on the inside, I think. We had the best agents on the planet. I mean, except for a few talented mercs, and the leftover Soviets, our infant agents topped them all."

Powder analyzed from her new perch a top the metal railing. "So its probably not the US government. No, definitely not. Even a squadron of the new F-22’s couldn’t take out a Phoenix piloted by one of ours. The Russians, French, and Brits don’t even come close. Last I heard, Talon killed the only Phoenix that wasn’t ours, and in all reality, they’re the only fighters that could have taken out the base jets."

"Who even knows about their flight plans?"

"Well, our training told us to spike a fuel tanker with explosives. The tankers have to know, but only we know which airports they fly out of. Who else..." Flint paused as a man approached them from the street.

"Excuse me, have any of you found any weird weapons? Like a sword, or a piece of armor, or a dagger or something like that?" as the man spoke, all of the conscious agents noticed that he was carrying a gun in an underarm sling.

"What?" Flints’s hands slipped into his pockets he motioned for Hemlock to wake Marionette.

"Oh, I’m sorry. I was just, uh, looking for some stolen artifacts from the Art Museum." He turned to leave.

"Wait, I’ve found something like that," Powder ventured.

"Really!?" the man turned back and signaled to two others in the park who were accosting other groups of people.

"Hey! What’s up?" Hemlock asked rather loudly, disturbing Marionette, who woke violently.

"What is it?" the man asked Powder.

"A dagger."

The other two approached and stood beside the man. "May we see it?"

The four agents surrounded the three men while Marionette rummaged through the bag that she had been using as a pillow. "Here it is." She produced the ceremonial dagger at this point she was willing to risk pretty much anything to learn what was going on.

"Is that it?" one man asked one of the others.

"Sir, we’re going to have to disarm you," Powder said almost apologetically as she, Hemlock and Flint stripped the men of their pistols.

"It is!" the man in the center exclaimed, pointing at the dagger. Then glaring suspiciously at its bearer, "Aries’ successor is a woman?"

"Aries, like the Greek god of war?" Marionette asked.

"Yes, as a point of fact."

"Well, though I am greatly offended by your inference that a woman can’t succeed Aries, I must admit I am not a god by a long shot. What is the deal with this dagger? -Why does it kill those monsters?" she signaled to the other three agents that she believed they were valuable and would be allowed to live indefinitely.

"It’s Aries’ dagger, and those monsters are demon spawn," the man was starting to get excited, "Did you find anything else wherever you found that dagger?"

"Why don’t we go somewhere safer first," Marionette rose to her feet and the four agents led the other three down the street silently to a secure condominium.

As they crossed the street, Hemlock commented, "You know what really ticks me off? Now that out base jets have been taken out, I’ll never get my retirement package."

Powder answered, "Don’t worry, I’m sure one of our retired agents will spare you a few million to get started on a normal life."

The seven seated themselves on the floor of the bare living room before Marionette began to speak. "Well, I do believe you have a lot of explaining to do. This dagger is the only thing that effectively kills these monsters, which have wiped out the remainder of our agency’s operatives," she stopped, looking to the blond psychic to answer.

"Well, there’s not much time. Why don’t I give you the basics, and then the solution."

"Sounds good to me."

"Well, there are a bunch of demon prisons on earth that have been breached. Demons like the real spawn of Satan. The only effective way to kill many of them is magically. That dagger you have was the possession of one of the warriors that imprisoned the demons, and died doing it. We’ve got to stop the demons because they pose a serious threat to Earth and every other planet with intelligent life."

Marionette did not know what to believe. She knew there were monsters that sure seemed immortal. The only way they died was from total dismemberment or by the dagger. "So, is this the only weapon that works against these things?" Marionette indicated the throwing dagger.

"No. I assume the sword works; whatever other weapons you found are probably effective too. Oh! And, you’re not really killing them. You can’t kill the dead. The demons you kill are bound to your soul, and whatever power they had is now yours. And you hold souls of the immortals it has killed. You're also immortal, since you control an immortal soul. This only means that you’re immune from natural death, and whenever you kill a mortal, you bind its soul to yourself."

"What?" Marionette was thoroughly confused.

"Describe the monsters you killed."

"There were a few huge canine-like beasts and a large winged thing."

"You killed…" the sage whipped out a notebook from his breast pocket and leafed though it, "a Herakvin- a spawning demon. In essence, you only killed one demon. It had the power to create separate bodies for its subordinate souls to inhabit to do its bidding. It is one of the least powerful ones."

"So I can make little henchmen?" Marionette asked, "How?"

"I don’t know. We’ll figure it out later."

Powder interjected, "Wait- that demons killed Tybalt, Delphi, Widow, and Locksleigh. You can give them bodies!"

"Yeah, if I figure out how."

"Come on guys, we have problems we have to deal with now. We can’t worry about hypotheticals. So, what do we do now?" Hemlock asked.

"Well, we know that two seals have been broken- One in the Middle East, and another recently in Central America. If you want to save your planet, you’ll have to guard the remaining three. Chances are, the demons will throw everything they’ve got into unlocking those seals so that they can have enough power to jump back into the immortal plane and bring back some friends. You’ll probably want more weapons, so we’ll also have to find the other artifacts from other ‘gods’, which are hidden all over the planet. The three sisters of Fate tagged their powers to a few genetic lines, and I think I can find the descendants within a day. They should be very powerful, but the only thing is, I think they’re a bunch of kids."

"Kids?"

In the New York suburb of Poughkeepsie, three teenagers dashed through the Vassar College campus on roller blades. Ryan Vinson glanced back to see his friends well behind him. The game was manhunt, and in broad daylight, speed was the winning strategy. "Come on Vince! At this rate, we’ll be playing until next week!" Ryan spun around, skating backwards to taunt his friends.

Not phased in the slightest, Vince continued pursuit as Laszlo, the third friend, flew past in a sudden burst of speed. Ryan clattered down a flight of stairs and Laszlo flew down after him. Vince took significantly more time, meticulously taking each step to ensure that he made it to the bottom in one piece. At the bottom, he found his friends already out of reach, so he proceeded to skate around to cut them off. On the way, he ran into his girlfriend Jenny. "Hey,you slacker! Where have you been?" Vince shouted at the slightly built brunette who was cutting across a lawn.

"Sorry, I ran into a really cute guy." Jenny joked, joining Vince on the pavement. They went around to the bottom of a set of steps that Ryan was trying to descend. In an amazing feat, he stumbled his way down the entire flight and landed on his feet at the bottom. Then he hit the edge of a little footbridge and went flying across it, skidding to a stop on the wooden planks.

Laszlo, still at the top of the hill, began laughing hysterically that he lost his balance and fell flat on his ass. Vince wondered how he ever got mixed up with these people. "Tag, you’ve been caught." Vince tapped Ryan on the shoulder.

"Very funny, where are the others?" Ryan said as he picked himself up and brushed himself off.

"Eric went home- he scraped his knee. Dave drove him."

"Wait a second, that leaves us without a car!" Jenny pointed out.

"Oh well." Ryan said as nonchalantly as humanly possible, "Wanna go play a round of pool or something?"

"Sure, why not," Laszlo agreed, looking to Vince.

"Alright, but I’ve got to swing by my house to get some money."

"Great, ‘cause I was broke." Ryan laughed, as he sped off towards Vince’s house.

Laszlo followed close suit, and Vince and Jenny followed. The four teens dashed up the streets, Ryan, the blond daredevil, randomly hoping on and off the sidewalk as pleased him. Laszlo, tall and thinly set followed slightly behind, rightfully blaming his blades for his slower speed. Vince and Jenny lagged far behind, partly because they didn’t are for speed, partly because it was a hot day, and partly because they were just plain slow on skates. Ryan careened down Vince’s blind driveway, smashing his knee on a shiny black Crown Victoria that "wasn’t there when they left." Laszlo swerved past it and Vince and Jenny completely ignored the driveway, skating to the front door instead, where they removed their blades.

They walked to the back where Laz and Ryan were hosing themselves off, "Hi Vince, where have you been?"

"Probably off in a bush with Jenny." Laszlo remarked, "Oh- there are two guys sitting in a car in your driveway."

"What?" Jenny asked, "Don’t you find that at all odd?"

"Well, it looks like it was a guy and a girl- here they are now." Two strangers had followed Laszlo to the front of the house.

"Hi, um…" the guy began, but the girl kicked him before he could continue.

The girl began, "I’m from the FBI." She held out a badge. "I have a warrant for the arrest of three teenagers- Vincent Savath, Jennette Norton, and a Ryan Vinson. Vincent, you may have twenty minutes to gather your things from you home before we leave."

"What are we charged of?" Ryan asked, going off on a rampage. "You can’t take us unless we’ve been charged! That’s a suspension of Habeus something or other, and this is not war time!"

"Well, I see you’ve studied up on your legal rights. Here’s the warrant." The lady handed him a sheet of paper bearing a judicial seal. "It’s for you own protection and for national security reasons."

Vince had taken the warrant and skimmed though it, "It looks like a judge signed this just because you asked him to."

"He also had confirmation from your parents- read it more closely…" she leaned over to point at a section when something crashed though the roof of Vince’s house. "Shit!" the lady glanced up and flung something into the air after what appeared to be a huge bird. Whatever it was, it crashed to the ground in the back yard. The entire group ran over to see what it was. It was really disgusting. It had the face of an ugly old man, the wings of a bat, and paws like a cat, all on a monkey’s body. (Actually, that was a meager attempt to describe the indescribable.) The lady removed her dagger from its body and the man eagerly leafed through a notebook eventually finding the page he wanted, "Oh, it’s only an imp. Won’t get many bonus points for him."

"Doesn’t matter- I still don’t know how to use the power." The woman responded, poking at the thing with her foot as if checking to see if it was still alive.

"What the hell is going on?" Ryan lifted the little being up by a leg.

"Leave that thing alone!" Jenny was appalled. "Don’t you have any respect for the dead?"

"It was dead long before he touched it," the man said.

"Whatever. I was just going to toss it into the woods," Ryan said, walking to the edge of Vince’s yard and flinging it into the trees.

"Come on, let’s get out of here," the man urged.

"What about my family?" Vince asked.

"Were they home just now?" the lady asked.

"Yes."

"Forget about them. We’re leaving. Now!" the man gestured toward the car. The teens hesitated, but both the man and woman were armed and indicated that they would use force to get them into the car. Laszlo tried to make a break for it and the lady shot at him, but apparently missed, because he just kept running.

"What the hell are you doing?!" the man yelled.

"It’s just a tranquilizer. He’ll be out cold in a minute. You said he’s not vital anyway, right?"

"Yeah, let’s just leave."

All five of them piled into the Crown Victoria. Their destination was a nearby hotel. There, they entered one of the rooms without knocking. The teens sat nervously on the edge of a bed while the man and woman spoke briefly with a young girl and a few other men. After a while, they came to address the teens. The youngest woman, who could still be considered a girl and was technically a minor, spoke to them, "Hi. My name is Tanya. You can call me Powder."

"Like makeup?" Jenny asked in a daze.

Stifled laughter came from a man in the back of the room. "No. Powder like the exploding kind. I’m a, um…government agent. It’s my code name. I didn’t pick it. That’s Marionette, Flint, and Hemlock, the wise ass that keeps making fun of me. They’re agents too. The other guy who picked you up is Chris we he’s a prophet. The two goons are his bodyguards- pretty useless as guards, if you ask me. Well, the big boys have stuff to discuss. Wanna go someplace so I can explain the situation to y’all?"

"Like where?" Ryan asked.

"Anywhere fun. I have a fake ID- well, not fake, but you get the idea," Powder made a poor attempt to sound like a normal teen.

"How about Juliet’s?" Jenny asked.

"Fine, let’s go." Vince got up, anxious to do anything but hang around these armed agents. At least Powder young age was somewhat of a comfort.

Powder looked to Marionette, who just glared back with an inquisitive look, "What?"

"Can I have the car?"

"Oh, of course. Remember back before…" Marionette started.

"0800. I know. And make sure I bring the kiddies back alive and in one piece, don’t show my gun in public, and use the magic dagger before anything else."

Marionette tossed her Powder keys and they left for the billiards parlor.

This time, the drive was not as silent. Ryan noticed that the small blonde spoke with a slight southern drawl, and didn’t seem to pay much attention to the road as she drove.

"So, you guys probably are wondering what the hell is going on, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess it’s been on my mind," Vince responded, "Make a left here."

"I know where it is. I saw it on the way to the hotel. Well, some weird stuff has been happening. You guys could be part of the solution."

Powder pulled into a parking space along the edge of the Vassar College property. "C’mon - I’ll explain the rest while we play. We have a good five hours to kill."

Vince and the others climbed out and followed her into the restaurant/billiards parlor.

"Well, I’m not exactly sure what’s going on either, but from what I gather from the psychic, it’s pretty deep." Powder leaned against the counter while Ryan got a set of balls and a rack. "Ooh! Canolies!"

They went to an empty table and between bites of her canolie, Powder continued, "You guys into religion?"

"I’ve read some of the bible," Jenny responded, racking the balls, "Eight ball, right?"

"Well, the deal is that all Hell is breaking loose- literally."

Vince broke, scattering the balls but sinking nothing. Powder smiled and kept talking, "There was a large holy war on Earth several millennia ago, and it seems an army of demons were trapped in temples here." Powder paused to take her shot. To her own surprise, she didn’t sink anything; "I haven’t played in a while."

"So what’s the problem?" Ryan asked as Jenny sank a few shots.

"Well, an archeology team just opened up one of the temples." Powder kept talking until Jenny finally missed a shot, "Whoa. What’s the deal?"

"I’ve got a table at home- Well, gee that sucks! What does it have to do with us?"

Powder sensed Jenny's skepticism in her indifferent tone, but continued her explanation anyway. "You are descendants of the people who put the demons away in the first place. These demons are tough to kill- believe me. And we believe that you may prove to be a good weapon against them, or at least a defense." Powder scraped the blue chalk across the tip of her cue before taking another shot.

Vince kept back from the conversation, skeptical as well. He was actually on the verge of going to the telephone and calling the police on these whack jobs. But then, that thing that was at his house… Either way, what happened in the next instant proved Powder's story beyond a doubt.

The huge picture windows shattered inward as a huge beast crashed through it and charged at Jenny. As if by reflex, Powder flung an object at the beast, striking it in the head and sending it crashing into a heap at Jenny’s feet. In a semi state of shock, she reached down to turn its body over to get a better look. "Don’t…" Powder began too late. The beast wrenched around suddenly and chomped down on Jenny’s sleeve, barely missing her arm. Powder leapt over the table, but Jenny had already remedied the problem. As her free arm grabbed at the back of the beast’s head, it passed clear though, and Jenny had removed what appeared to be a piece of cellophane, leaving the beast completely dead on the floor.

"Whoa cool." Powder said, tearing the dagger out of the beast.

"What?" Vince said, appalled as he check Jenny’s arm, which had managed to evade all harm.

"Oh, I didn’t mean the attack- this thing is um, a Ghellan, if I remember correctly. Pretty powerful demon- it’s supposed to be able to regenerate every time it gets killed and grow bigger, or multiply if it’s severed. But I think your girlfriend just tore its soul out."

"Tore its soul out?" Ryan asked, glancing around to see the billiards hall already completely deserted except for a youngster cowering under a barstool.

"Yeah, you three are supposed to be the descendants of the sisters Fate. As I recall, they had the ability to manipulate souls. Apparently the skill made a formidable weapon too, as you can see."

Jenny flipped the long fragile membrane around in her hands. She tore a piece off and the beast shuddered once more. She smiled the diabolical smile of a teenager getting her revenge for the scare of her life. Surprisingly, as she put the two pieces near one another, they fused together as if she had never torn it.

"So what do I do with this thing?" she asked.

"I dunno, put it somewhere safe, and let’s get out of here."

In the car, Powder took out a cell phone and dialed a number. "This is agent 83775. We’ve had a little accident in Poughkeepsie. Make sure it’s covered."

"Who was that?" Ryan asked as they pulled out into the road.

"FBI damage containment unit." Powder answered.

"Is that really who you’re with?"

"Not actually. I’m actually with an independent branch of the CIA, a little more covert and clandestine, and a little better trained. We have our own clean up units around here, but our bases were taken out, so I had to use the FBI, since they’re the closest. The good thing is that there are some operations that are so hush hush that no one ever asks any questions if you’ve got to, say, explain a blown up pool parlor with a dead demon in it. All you need is the right ID number."

"Where to now?" Vince asked.

Powder grinned. "Is there a bowling alley around here that’s got a good insurance policy?"

"Ha. Ha." Jenny said acerbically.

"Well, then. If you must be a party pooper, we’ll go rejoin Marionette and the crew. I guess they won’t mind our being four and a half hours early."

As they drove down the street, Jenny arrived at a revelation. "Eww! If we’re descendants of the sisters Fate, then I’m related to Vince!"

"Don’t worry they weren’t really sisters, hon. Besides, a few thousand years would substantially diversify your gene pool. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re German, and he’s Southeast Asian- Thai?" Powder ascertained from his physical features.

"No, a bit Laotian, mostly Northern Chinese."

"Close enough." Powder laughed away her embarrassment from being wrong.

For the teens, the car ride seemed a much-needed return to normalcy, and it seemed like only an instant had passed before they pulled up to the motel. On the other hand, Powder was anxious to report in to her superiors on the new events of the day.

When they arrived, it became apparent that the other three had a busy day also. Powder jumped of the car out to see a man dashing from their motel room door- it was one of the Prophet’s guards. Apparently the other one had taken a much harsher route- out the picture window- and he lay unconscious on the pavement.

"Powder! Waste him!" Marionette called from inside the building.

Powder fearing the worst, took no time with conventional weapons, and flung the ceremonial dagger at the back of his head. (Not that a dagger in the back of the head wouldn’t kill a normal human anyway.) The man roared and wrenched the thing out of his own head while still stumbling along. Powder ran after him and tackled him. "Hey! One of you kids get over here!" she screamed as she struggled with the man.

Jenny was the only one out of the car, and she dashed over. Her hand passed unhindered into the man’s back and she groped for the silky film that she knew would put the body to rest. She found two. The man had ripped the dagger from his head and was poised to run it through Powder's chest. Jenny tore both from the man, and he fell limp. Vince shouted from behind her, "The bluer one! Put the bluer one back now!"

Jenny just glared at the souls, and then at him with a confused look. Sensing she could not see the tint on the souls, Vince quickly elaborated, "The one in your right hand!"

Obeying without thought, Jenny flung it back into the body and the man rolled off Powder, gasping for breath. Flint rushed to Powder’s side with twin revolvers in hand, "You OK?"

"Just dandy!" Powder picked herself off the ground, her pride hurt more than anything else, after having almost been eliminated by a non-agent. After brushing the gravel off her knees, she noticed that her assailant was still alive. She grabbed the dagger and wielded it cautiously over the gasping man before asking, "Jack?"

The man rolled over onto his back. "Yeah, I’m fine."

"Fine?" Ryan asked, "What about that knife that was in the back of your head?"

"What?!" The man’s hand flew to the back of his head, and felt his hair sticky with warm blood. He probed the back of his head, but could not find the wound that caused the loss of so much blood.

Once the hubbub settled, they went into the hotel room and Marionette got right back down to business. "I know we’ve all had an interesting day, but we’ve just come up with a new set of mission directives."

"Mission?" Vince asked. This day was turning out just like one of his bad science fiction stories.

"We’re going to South America!" Flint said with dramatic enthusiasm.

Of course, it was Jenny who made the only practical comment in this abstract chain of events. "What are we going to wear? I’m already feeling kind of scrubby my dirty clothes, and we’re not even in the subtropics yet."

Hemlock and Marionette, the two senior agents glanced at each other. They’d never encountered this problem before- the agency had always provided more than enough gear. "Wait a minute!" Powder quickly found a solution. "My last mission directives were coded in the middle of a Macys catalogue. I still have the catalogue, minus the lingerie section where the mission was coded, sorry Vince, Jenny won’t be wearing any lingerie on this trip. You guys can order on the car ride to the airport."

"What will we pay with?" Ryan asked with a slightly malicious undertone.

"What do you think?" Flint answered, "The agency can order a two billion dollar fighter jet without thinking twice. It was even rumored that the agency has ‘rented’ the governments of various nations for weeks at a time. Do you think they’d deny their field agents unlimited funds to pay for a few toys now and then?"

Ryan whispered to Vince, "I’m thinking K2 trick blades with Abec 5’s. I have the number to order over the phone in my wallet."

"Well, if the demons don’t kill you, those skates sure will." Vince responded, knowing Ryan’s tendency to neglect minimal safety equipment to compliment his state of the art blades.

"Hey, I say, if we’re going to save the world, we deserve to have a little fun."

Soon enough, the motley crew of three teens, four assassins, and an unemployed psychic gambler from Brooklyn climbed the stairs to a jumbo jet bound for Brazil. Chris, the psychic’s, bodyguards returned to their home in Brooklyn after their short adventure, truthfully admitting that they were useless in the grand scheme of things, and they were furthermore pretty bad at gun fighting. The ride was so pleasant that all eight fell fast asleep, despite the day’s bizarre events. The sun was just setting as the plane touched down in Belem. There, they took a short respite before they would take a boat ride up the Amazon River to find an ancient temple. The group took two taxis to the nearest motel where they rented only two double rooms to better maintain security. There, the four civilians were thoroughly amazed at the level of security that was to be maintained. Powder, being the youngest, and therefore designated lackey/babysitter, was sent to pick up some agency equipment while Flint, Hemlock, and Marionette did a standard security check of the hotel.

"Under normal circumstances, I’d say it would be safer for you to sleep in a separate motel, since all four of us are constantly hunted by terrorists and the like," Marionette said to the three teens, "But, I think tonight, we’ll be rooming together, two agents to a room. In fact, I think we’ll all hang out together until it’s time to sleep."

"I get the sofa bed!" Flint called as he dropped out of the overhead air vent.

"Are we going to get to go out tonight?" Ryan asked.

"No, it’s too dangerous tonight. The beasts are out to get you, and we can’t guard you easily, since there are drug cartels gunning for us in this city."

Powder returned with four silver suitcases. "Here are your toys. The communications stuff is still in the car." She dropped them on the bed as Flint went to get the rest of the gear. "And the only decent video at the store I went to." Powder put a video into the tape player and they all settled down for a peaceful evening.

Once the movie finished, there was an even better show for the kids, well at least the boys enjoyed it. The four agents began to methodically check their weapons. Each agent apparently specialized in a field relating to their tags. Powder was obviously a demolitionist. Her case was full of shaped charges, detonators, C-4, and grenades. Flint was a gun fighter, and consequently packed light. He had an extra standard pistol, silencers, and a lot of extra ammo in the case, but the rest of the empty space was filled with freeze-dried coffee and chocolate bars.

"Is that poisoned?" Vince asked.

"No, That’s Hemlock’s field," Flint laughed, popping a chunk of chocolate into his mouth before passing the bar around. "This stuff is just to keep me quick on my feet."

Marionette was the single wild card, and she did not open her case. Vince asked her what she specialized in, and she responded, "Well, I’m a close up agent."

When Vince glared at her with an inquisitive look, Hemlock answered for her, "Think of all the ways you can kill a person indirectly, and she can do it. Furthermore, she probably has done it successfully. She’s gotten jealous boyfriends, jealous wives, and even rabid dogs to do the job. Lately, she’s used a new miracle impotence-fixing drug to screw an old man to death. If we solve this demon problem, remember to invest in Pfizer, the company we sold it to. That’ll be a hot item alright."

"Oh." Vince felt that his question was more than adequately answered.

The remainder of the evening was peaceful and despite the agent’s complaints of inaccuracies, the spy movie was enjoyable. Sleep was not a problem despite the eventfulness of the day. The three teens went to sleep, having not yet realized the extent of the change in their lives.

In the morning, thanks to same-day mail, the kids got their clothes (and other assorted toys), and the agents received the equipment that was necessary to take the journey into the Amazon. The entire group left the hotel early that morning in a single suburban, headed toward an isolated fishing pier, where a stealth prototype speedboat was moored on a buoy made of an old detergent bottle, and was covered by a mildewed piece of canvas.

As they dragged the canvas off, Powder commented to the teens, "It’s a derivative of the Mark 5- supposed to seat ten and a combat raft, but with the gear, it still might be a squeeze."

The agents launched the boat and they were on their way speedily. Without having to worry about being inconspicuous, Hemlock pushed the boat to its limit, covering nearly five hundred miles before sunset, when Marionette took over the helm. They were headed up the Rio Purus, to a temple only charted on agency maps because of its close proximity to an established agency satellite dish. Though they discovered odd relics and carvings in the temple when they mapped the interior, they left everything, as to preserve it, in case its location was ever publicized.

Over the next day and a half, unbearable monotony set in. There were occasions to look out to see the interesting flora and fauna of the rainforest, but the sweltering heat and the incredible speed of the boat made it uncomfortable to stay out from under the boat’s canopy for long.

On the upside of things, the teens finally got a thorough explanation of recent occurrences and future plans. The reason that they were headed for the temple was to gain reconnaissance on their situation and perhaps find some more weapons, or even better, a means to make new weapons. This particular temple had been chosen because it was the only one of the three unbroken seals on agency records. The ones that had been breached would be searched later by the agents, but Hemlock believed them too dangerous to approach at the current time.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before Flint began to pass around a thermos of coffee to liven everyone up for the arrival at their destination. It was a relief to all the passengers when they finally made landing at the head of a concealed trail near the river.

"You kids stay here, while we check out the temple first." Marionette directed, "Powder and Chris, you two stay with them."

Though they were all well past sick and tired of staying in the boat, no one dissented. Vince and Ryan stretched whole-heartedly on land while Jenny gulped down the remainder of her coffee- black with a lot of sugar. Powder sat on the prow of the boat, with one booted foot in the muddy water and a huge rifle across her knees. Aries’ sword was within easy reach. It had not yet been tested against the demons, but Chris said would work just as well as the dagger, if not better. She was dressed in all black, with a vest over her short sleeved v-neck.

"You know," Jenny commented, laying down her mug, "I was afraid to say this in front of the bigwigs, but I feel really scrubby after not taking a shower for three days."

"I don’t recommend swimming alone in this water," Powder said, "The guys will just check out the temple to see what they can dig up, then I’ll go in and blow it up. Then we’ll head back to civilization for a while before going to the next temple."

"It won’t seal it off for good, but it’ll slow the demons down until we can, well, mobilize the world." Chris said, plopping himself down on a rock.

"Are you sure that’s enough?" Ryan asked, "I mean, those things looked pretty nasty. The one at Juliet’s took a freakin’ dagger in the head, and still was kicking. From what I heard about Karbala from you guys, that was no picnic either."

Powder nodded silent ascent, knowing all too well how one demon killed four of her comrades, who were among the best-trained soldiers in the world. It was frankly a miracle that the world wasn’t at war yet. A ruckus came from the brush and Powder jumped to her feet, brandishing Aries’ dagger. A boar crashed through the leaves, splashing loudly into the water. "Getting sloppy, huh?" she shouted into the woods.

No reply came. Vince glanced to her. "Get down under the canopy." She ordered to the rest of them, taking partial cover herself. A tense minute crawled by. Suddenly, the thick leaves rustled and parted. Powder raised the sword to strike.

"Whoa!" Flint emerged and threw his hands up in mock surrender.

"You scare a boar?" Vince asked.

"I dunno. I’m a pretty scary guy."

Powder grinned wryly, knowing that boars seldom fled from a threat and would more likely charge any unfortunate human who startled it.

Flint broke the short silence, motioning for all of them to get out of the boat. "We need Powder’s expertise and you can’t stay here alone." Then, turning to his colleague, he said, "We found the entrance. We need you to rig it to completely seal."

"No problem," Powder responded, motioning for Ryan to pass her a black duffel bag.

They followed Flint through the dark forest, carefully maneuvering their way among the tree roots and sparse under brush. "Don’t touch anything. Hemlock will agree, some of his best toxins come from around here."

They soon came to a ravine, at the bottom of which lay some stonework, almost completely overgrown by plants. "Kinda an odd place to put a temple." Jenny commented.

"Yes, it is." Flint responded, "Actually, it was put there in an earthquake- sort of an odd phenomena in this area."

Marionette gave them all another start from nearby as she tossed a rope down into the ravine and waved them over. One by one, they descended. The archway that marked the entrance to the temple was still impressive, though it lay at the bottom of the ravine. A corroded brass figure stood vigil there. Here the group separated. The kids and Powder stayed at the mouth to rig it to explode. Meanwhile, the others ventured inside to see what they could find.

Inside, Marionette led the way, with flashlight in hand. Colorful pictographs covered the walls. Here, they dawdled for a while to allow Chris to interpret a few panels to see if there was any useful information to be found. Through vivid histories of battles, the walls told of the twelve arch-demons that were imprisoned in that very temple. A much lengthier account described the minor demons and imps also imprisoned in the small magical prison created there by the "gods" so long ago. As Flint stood a vigilant guard for the prophet, he heard Powder call down, "All rigged!" He checked his watch and smiled. She was getting faster every time.

Chris looked up, "There should be something of value down here. This temple was the site where Hermes, Athena, and Zeus himself sealed up the final demons." He pointed out a faded etching, "It shows here, the gods had all exhausted their powers except for these three before this final battle. "

"Exhausted?" Flint asked.

"Well, they bound it into their spells. Like I said back in New York, I assume that the power would return somewhere once the seals are broken."

"Anything really useful?" Marionette asked.

"Nope, let’s go on."

The team descended further on the dilapidated stairs. Surprisingly, there were no animals in the tunnel, which would have made an excellent burrow, had it not been inhabited by demon spawn. They continued downward until they came to an open chamber, where they beheld an awesome sight, and a disheartening scene.

In the middle of the chamber, there was a column of pulsating pink light. Strands of crackling blue light laced its surface, throwing odd shadows onto the walls. Around the pillar stood three hideous creatures, imps by the look of it, and in one of their hands there was a gilded dagger, poised to strike at the pillar.

Instantly, Marionette took action. She drew her pistol and fired it at the dagger, knocking it out of the imp’s hand, and causing all three to turn their attention to the intruders. All three agents moved on the imps. Flint drew Aries’ sword and cleaved the first demon in two. Marionette and Hemlock literally shot the others to pieces in an instant.

"That was way too easy." Marionette said suspiciously after the last imp toppled.

"Maybe they were very low level imps who came here to free larger demons and gain their favor." Hemlock suggested.

"Maybe…" Chris said.

"Alright. We’ve talked enough. Let’s search for some weapons." Marionette interjected, "Flint, stay here."

Flint stayed by the glowing pillar and waited while the others looted the adjacent chambers. He sat on the stone pedestal where the pillar rested and lay Aries’ sword across his lap. Five minutes later, Marionette called out, "Papa 4."

Flint shook his head. They were in the middle of a Brazilian rainforest, ransacking an ancient temple. Agency headquarters had been destroyed and Marionette was still following protocol.

"Delta twelve," He responded after working the calculation on his fingers. As he closed his hand back around the hilt of Aries’ sword, a light flashed on the other side of the chamber. Flint quickly dove for cover and watched for a target to strike at. Whatever materialized was far too quick. A blur flew across the chamber and rammed the column of light, sending arms of white light flaring up the stairs and into the other chambers.

Outside, the four teenagers sat on the base of the bronze statue, which happened to be the only thing that wasn’t too damp. Suddenly, Vince got the distinct feeling something happened. It took him a while to realize that he was no longer in a Brazilian rainforest. He looked in his lap. Jenny’s hand was still there. He glanced over his shoulder. Ryan, the rest of Jenny, and Powder were there also. They were still on the statue, but everything else was definitely different.

"What just happened?" Jenny asked.

Ryan just sat with his mouth agape. Powder was already on her feet, looking around with twin pistols in her hands, "Vince, get my rifle from my bag."

Vince complied as Powder tossed Ryan one of her pistols and gave Jenny the backup she kept in an ankle holster. Vince slung the rifle over his shoulder and picked up the bag with his free hand as he got up to join the rest of them in exploring.

They were on top of a small, rocky mountain. There was no sign of civilization in any direction. There was a large body of water about five miles to one side. All in all, the place looked like they landed themselves in on of the New England states in the United States.

"My god!" Jenny exclaimed she pointed at the moon rising over the water. The natural satellite was a deep blood red hue.

"Oh, don’t worry. That’s just the color of the sun reflecting…" Vince began to explain.

"Then how do you explain the purple color of the moon in that direction, or the blue one over there?" Ryan pointed out two other smaller satellites in the noon sky. "Where the hell are we?"

"Doesn’t matter." Powder stated matter-of-factly. "This forest looks like it’s been logged before. The trees in the valley aren’t to big, and the mountains appear to be very old ones, so there are probably people or some intelligent beings in this place."

"Intelligent beings?" Jenny asked, "Like aliens?"

"Yeah," Powder grinned. "And if they're any of the ones that have traveled to Earth, I'm already fluent in their language. Well, we should probably get a move on."

"Toward the ocean?" Vince suggested as a direction of travel.

"Good choice." Powder commented as she led the way down a bare rock face of rose granite.

As they descended toward the coast, Powder reflected upon their situation, "Well, we obviously got here through some sort of magical device. All we have to hope for is that the guys touched something they shouldn’t have, and the seal wasn’t harmed. Either way, I hope whoever made that magic knew what they were doing."

"Well, it seems unlikely that they didn’t know what they were doing, I mean, what are the chances of our landing precisely sitting on a statue, on the summit of a mountain on a foreign planet?" Ryan commented, "I mean, it the magic was random, we probably would have ended up in the middle of space, in the water, in the middle of the planet, in the middle of the air, or some other unpleasant place."

They hiked cautiously down the sloping terrain until they finally reached the water’s edge. A field of sand stood between the forest’s edge and the water’s. They party stopped there, "What next?" Ryan asked, "There could be miles of this before we spot people."

"Well, waiting here doesn’t help any." Powder picked a direction, and they headed along the coast.

They had been hiking a few miles before the sun began to set over the sea. "Gee, that’s nice." Jenny commented, "Let’s stop here for a while. It’s obvious we’re not going to get to a city before dark anyway."

They picked a scenic point and settled down. "I think I’ll go try to find some food." Powder said as she walked off with the rifle in hand, "Stay here and keep your guard up."

Ryan did not take the opportunity to sit still and rest. "Hey, I wonder what cool stuff she has in her bag. Maybe I can start a camp fire." He picked up the bag and put it on a rock as soon as Powder was out of earshot.

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you." Vince said, "What if she’s got it booby trapped?"

"Well, then she would have said, ’Stay here, keep your guard up, and don’t open my bag.’" Ryan explained as he unzipped the front pocket. He took out the items piece by piece and laid them on the rock.

"Hmm, detonator, plastic explosives, more detonators. What’s this- Gee, looks like a mortar launcher. Mortars, ammo, lock picks, grenade, more grenades, gas grenades, weird thingy, another weird thingy, ahh- a knife. Here, Vince cut some kindling." As he tossed the sheathed blade to Vince, he knocked the mortar launcher off the top of the rock. Grenades and weird thingys rolled off the rock after it.

Fortunately, nothing exploded, but that didn’t keep Ryan from diving for cover and knocking himself unconscious on a rock.

"Shit. Not now." Vince said as he picked up Ryan’s body and put him on a tuft of grass. Jenny didn’t even turn from the sunset before asking, "Is he unconscious?"

"Yeah, he’s got a pulse though." Vince said, wiping the dirt and blood off his forehead with a large leaf. "I hope this stuff isn’t like poison ivy. Oh well. His fault."

Vince left Ryan’s forehead to clot on its own and began to pick up Powder’s things. Just then, a shot rang out and Powder came out of the woods with two monstrous birds in her hands. "Got some food. Hey, what happened to the dumb kid?"

"He was messing with your stuff and hit his head on a rock when he dropped your mortar launcher." Vince didn’t even bother to ask how she downed two birds with only one shot from a rifle.

"Just great. He’d better be well enough to walk by morning." Powder said as she began rummaging in her bag to find her lighter. "Hey, what’s this?" she held up a green cylinder.

"I dunno, land mine?" Vince answered, "What is this, a test?"

"This isn’t one of my toys. It’s a beer can!" She said on further inspection, "Or a soda can… wait a second- this isn’t English!"

She examined the writing on the can. Vince and Jenny gathered around as she lit a lighter to see it better. Surprisingly, Powder understood the lettering perfectly. It was a beer can, but the lettering was not English or any other of languages she was fluent in. She turned to the other two.

"What is it?" Vince asked.

"Beer can." Jenny said, matter-of-factly.

"How’d you know that?" Powder asked.

"I read the label." Jenny answered, then paused with a confused look on her face, " Weird. It’s not in English."

"Do me a favor." Powder asked, "Check those souls you had."

Jenny felt in her pocket, "They’re gone!"

"No they’re not." Powder told her, "They’ve probably entered you. Vince, take one of mine."

"Um, ok," Vince reached his hand out, but stopped right on Powder’s chest.

"Hey! Watch it there, lover boy!" Jenny laughed.

"Gee, you made it look so easy when you removed those other two." Vince told Jenny.

"I have a feeling the first one I got because it was a demon and I was scared to death. The second one, I had the intent to remove a soul, and I already knew what I was feeling for." Jenny answered.

"Well, gee, what did you think I intended to do?" Vince grinned, "Maybe I’d better get some more practice."

"Practice on Ryan!" Jenny said, as she put her hand into Powder’s chest, putting one into Vince and the other into Ryan. She shuddered. "Sheesh, doing that gives me the heebie jeebies."

"How do you think it makes me feel?" Powder asked. She then held up the can for Vince to read. "Excellent." Vince said. "Hey! They have beer here with ten percent alcohol!"

"Well, at least now we know what kind of civilization we’re dealing with." Powder said, "I just hope these demon souls translate spoken words as well as written ones."

Powder dressed the fowl and began to spit roast it while the two conscious teens looked cleared places to sleep sheltered by a huge rock ridge. They eat heartily, and slept soundly despite their misadventures. After all, it had been a while since they’d been outside the hot, cramped, powerboat.

The next morning, they had a rude awakening by a man -an apparently human man- in a casual white uniform. He wore a wide brimmed hat and had a dark tan.

"Hey! Get up!" He shouted. "Don’t you kids know it’s illegal to be here overnight!"

As Vince rose groggily, he determined that he was a lifeguard. Despite his urge to say "Take me to your leader," Vince refrained from talking, and let Powder handle it.

"Excuse me, sir, we’re strangers here." Powder paused, seeing if he understood her English.

"Oh, I see. Did you miss the signs at the entrance?"

Powder gave a sigh of relief and continued, "We actually hiked from the mountains."

The man’s expression changed to one of suspicion. ‘You mean, you hiked through the valley, right?"

"No, we came, um, right over the summit. –We were admiring the view."

"You kids hiked up the Wisp Mountains to see the view?" He asked, "Are you out of your mind?"

"What, is it illegal?" Powder asked.

The man paused, testing to see if this was a practical joke. "You really don’t know about the Wisp Mountains?"

"What!?" Powder asked, finally exasperated.

"Where are you from?" the man demanded, "Is this some kind of joke?"

At this point, both Vince and Jenny were intrigued and thoroughly fed up with the entire charade. Jenny finally let it all out. "We’re from a planet called Earth and we arrived at the top of that mountain suddenly, probably when something went wrong at a temple on Earth."

The man simply burst out laughing. "I suppose that would make you the auburn haired maiden who is Clotho’s successor. Ha! Look, you other guys even… match… the… Oh, my lord!"

The lifeguard’s name was Don. He drove the four teens to his family dwelling, where they soon found themselves the object of much scrutiny. The estate was enormous. From where Don parked, they could see five houses and an immense mansion clustered at the edge of a lake. "Whoa! You must be really rich!" Jenny exclaimed as she stepped out of the extremely foreign, but otherwise normal car.

Don just looked at her curiously and seemed to ignore the comment, "Follow me. I will show you to my clan elder."

They followed the young lifeguard into the mansion and into an upstairs sitting room where an old man sat, watching a flat screen TV hanging on the wall.

"Elder Taron?" Don asked.

"Ah, Donald, am I correct?"

"Yes sir. I found these young people on the beach. They say they came from the Wisp Mountains…"

The old man began to grin at the young man’s naivete.

"I would have been more skeptical, except that they speak a foreign language, which I have never heard before, yet understand perfectly."

The old man’s face lit up with inquisitiveness. "Donald, get me a copy of the Prophecy." Don left the room and the elder directed his attention to the teens, "What are your names, youngsters?"

Powder spoke up first, naming her companions before introducing herself. "This is Ryan, this is Vince, and this is Jenny. My name is Tanya. They call me Powder."

"They named you after a cosmetic?" the old man asked. Jenny flashed Vince a grin.

"No, like gunpowder."

"I do not understand. We have no powders related to explosives. There must be a lack in translation." Don arrived and handed the elder a book that could have been a volume of Webster’s unabridged dictionary.

"Ah, here it is!" Elder Taron read a passage from the book, occasionally glancing up at the group as he read from his seat in an armchair.

"Wisp Mountains, deadly guardian of Herme’s gate will yield four ancient lords. A maiden with auburn locks will emerge Clotho reincarnate. Lachesis and Atropos both stride forth male, one light and the other dark. The last, a Warchild, guardian christened in battle, slayer of righteous and amoral. – Well, you certainly match the description. But that's a pretty vague description."

The elder looked over the teens. He found such a look of confusion on Vince’s face that he laughed. "Come, its almost time for breakfast. Join us at the elder table this morning. You, too, Donald."

They all walked down the hall to a dining room. The entire mansion was decorated as if the family had money to burn. The dining room was immense, with a table of lavender colored wood and gilded trims. "Sit!" the old man commanded, beckoning to a row of cushioned chairs. "You seem quite stunned by something, young dark one." He said to Vince.

"You have a great deal of riches here." Vince said, trying to explain his confusion.

"Ah. Our clan, Feldston, is old and established, and quite centralized." That was hardly sufficient explanation for Vince’s confusion, but before Vince could respond, more elderly people began to arrive and sit down. Elder Taron introduced the teens to each arrival with perfect ease. Once everyone had arrived, he explained their suspicion that they were the descendants of the gods.

For some reason, no one found it outrageously odd that four immortals had joined them for breakfast. They simply found it to be a great honor and an event to be celebrated. More of a holiday than a spectacle and oddly no one questioned it.

"We need to find out about the ancient gods." Powder said after Elder Taron finished.

"Actually, we need to figure out anything pertaining to us at all." Jenny added.

"'Cause, really, we actually don't know much at all- what planet we're on, how we got here, or what's going on. We're really pretty lost." Ryan shrugged and laughed as he took a long drink of a sweet milk-like liquid.

"We can show you to the national archives where you will find records about Armageddon, and the Wardens." Elder Taron suggested.

"What about Clan Ssarth and the River Pfeng?" Don asked timidly.

A few elders snorted. "The Pfeng is a valley of death. And Clan Ssarth is a renegade Clan which is the main source of magical drugs."

"The Wisp Mountains are a deadly range also, but these teens arrived through them!" another elder pointed out, "And the Ssarth legitimately peddle their drugs as medicine- the illegal exploiters of these drugs are the real criminals…"

"Ah, let’s not enter into a discussion about our politics with our honored guests here. We will discuss this later at the round table. Breakfast is ready." Elder Taron quickly cooled the tempers of the younger members of the Elder Council as the breakfast dishes arrived from the kitchen.

The dishes were served by a number of uniformed teenagers, who all stared curiously at the four strangers who sat in the honored seats of the Council dining room. The food was surprisingly similar to what the teens were accustomed to. There was bread with preserves, cheeses, some form of coffee, and some sponge cake with a creamy filling.

Conversation turned to lighter subjects, as the elders spoke of their daily activities and gossip. As the meal came to an end, the elders began to leave the table. Elder Taron stayed behind to speak briefly to the teens.

"We’ll discuss what should be done for you. Don, why don’t you show these teens around the estate and the capital, if there’s time? Just be back at the elder’s dining room for supper."

"Sir, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in on your council meeting, to get a better perception of our situation," Powder requested.

"Of course."

Thus, the three teens from New York finally received their first and only break from the their new misfortunes since Powder and her team arrested them. Don took the three back outside the long way, pointing out features of the mansion as they went. The entire building was an exquisite work of art, yet the technology was quite modern. There were flat-screened televisions, and electronic books, even though literature on paper and ink was still available.

Don led them out the back door toward the park where he was taking them. As they went, he attempted to explain to them the arrangement of the clans.

More or less, everyone on the planet belonged to a clan. As the teens guessed, membership was based on genetics- paternal lineage. Everyone lived on clan property, which was typically a huge estate with many houses and complexes. With a large, mature clan, you can imagine the wealth a clan could obtain.

Vince attempted to explain Earthling society to Don, and both young men found themselves immersed in a wonderful conversation. Vince then thought of something lacking in Don's explanation- their civilization had used clan grounds as the place of residence- tens of miles away from production centers where people worked. How did they manage this, in the low-tech days? Vince was astounded by Don's answer.

"Our founders tamed dragons at an early stage, and the knowledge spread very quickly, so there was no real need for people to reside in cities."

"Dragons?!" Jenny exclaimed

"Yes, they are large, scaly, winged horses. You don’t have dragons where you come from?" Don exclaimed, "Come, let me show you."

Don brought the three astounded teens to the clan stables, which seemed more like a ranch. As they approached, a faint smell of rank manure greeted them first. Then, they came to the corals and saw the incredible creatures that these people had harnessed. There were horses, oxen, mules, donkeys, and lizard horses, which still translated as "dragon", and, of course, winged dragons. The winged dragons were just as spectacular as the teens imagined. They were like giant scaly birds of all different colors: reds, blues, golds, greens, whites, blacks, and combinations of those colors.

"You see these colors?" Don said, "You can tell by the color where the dragon came from. I assume that your civilization has discovered the theory of evolution and genetics?"

"Oh, don’t you dare get scientific about dragons!" Jenny exclaimed.

"Of course we know about evolution. Please excuse my girlfriend she’s a bit of a hopeless romantic." Vince replied, waving Jenny aside to go play with a clutch of hatchlings.

"Well, obviously, the blues come from the sea, as you can also tell by the webbed feet, the golds come from the sandy deserts, and so on. In general, the purest colored dragons are the most purely bred dragons."

"What about the reds?" Vince asked.

"Good point. The bright red tint has no camouflage value, does it? The reds are hunters and fighters. They are the prized ones. In the ancient days of the clan wars, they were ridden as battle steeds. The younger ones were flown riderless in flocks in raids against towns."

"How big do these get?" Vince inquired, stroking the soft scaly hide of a smaller green.

"These are all adolescent. They usually get as big as very large horses, not counting the wings or tails, of course. But there are genetic mutations that cause them to live up to five hundred years and grow to phenomenal sizes if they find enough food."

"You know, a bunch of my friends were going to take some firebirds hunting this evening. I was going to skip it to show you around. Would you like to go on the hunt instead of going to town?"

"Well, what is there in the town…" Ryan began.

Jenny interjected immediately, "Of course we would love to go on the hunt."

Ryan’s frown immediately dissolved when Don informed them that they would have to ride dragons up to the cliffs where the firebirds could hunt birds and small animals. It was merely a custom that the natives practiced to maintain the hunter’s instinct in their dragons. After the first year, the dragons were fed the scraps from the slaughterhouses. (A practice which deprived the natives of such delicacies as the hot dog, bologna, and sausage.)

So that was how the teens spent the rest of their day off. They each took a green out and slowly learned how to fly. The dragons were extremely responsive, and even understood complex oral commands. Still, the teens were a bit shaky on the whole flying thing. As Jenny put it, "It’s like riding a horse, except in 3-D." By the time Don finished teaching them how to fly the dragons, it was time to return to the ranch and get fresh mounts for the hunting expedition.

The teens rode out of the stables finally competent on the backs of the giant lizards, and they took to the air without mishap. Then the group of native teens took to the air after them.

They first went to the cliffs and flew the yearlings on the hunt. "Flying the yearlings" is a misleading term, since the yearlings were the size of foals, and pretty much hunted on their own, returning to their masters’ feet at their call.

Then, the boys took to the air near the cliffs for a joy ride. Most of the yearlings went in the air after them, enjoying the play as much as the humans did.

In the United States, there frequently occurs a frightening mix of teenage testosterone and horsepower. Now, imagine those same irresponsible males, and exchange the tons of steel with tons of rippling, soaring, primal dragon flesh. Now that is a scary sight to behold. Both Jenny and Vince, on the other hand, had nothing to prove, and was content to ride his green at a "safe and prudent speed" straight to the cliffs while Ryan was overcome by male hormones and joined the others in their antics.

Ryan followed Don and screamed questions through the air about making his dragon do stunts. Fortunately for Ryan, his brown was not quite as feisty as the reds or whites that the others boasted. Though he was quite disappointed many times, he still managed many life-threatening stunts, including a long dive into a loop, which almost resulted in a red-out for the ambitious teen.

Vince and Jenny, of course reached the cliffs well before the others, and sat quietly on the rocks with their steeds ground tied nearby. One of the firebirds- a blue- had stayed behind and Jenny now held it in her lap, petting it absent-mindedly while she watched the sun set with her young Asian beau.

Vince leaned over and kissed her lightly on the chin and she smiled without turning.

"You know, this whole situation sucks a lot." Vince said, pausing as a breeze rustled the trees nearby. "I’m glad you’re here with me."

"Have you wondered yet, if we’re ever going to get back home," Jenny replied quitely, letting the last few words drift into the wind.

"Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll go back someday. We have to take Kayla to the zoo, remember?" Vince said, referring to Jenny’s baby sister.

The two watched as the sun sank below the distant hills in a river of flame. There was a brief minute of quite darkness before the city lights began to blink on and the valley below glowed with the warmth of civilization.

"I wonder how our own planet is doing." Vince continued as he was struck by the tranquility.

There was no good answer to that question. Jenny simply hugged Vince’s arm and there the two sat until the other teens had their fill of night flying and they all went home.

Powder was waiting for them at the stables. It was one of the only times the teens had seen her when she was weary. Ryan dismounted his dragon and began "Powder, you would not believe what we just did. Of course these two were chickens and…"

"You can tell me about it on the way to the Pfeng river valley." Powder said,

"Are we taking a dragon?" Ryan asked, rubbing his already wind chapped lips.

"No!" Powder chuckled, "We’re taking a jet."

Thus, the teens were abruptly swept back into their world of problems. The clan outfitted the teens with what supplies they would need for their brief expedition to the dessert valley. The jet and pilot were also supplied. The latter of these two proved to be an even more informative source on local culture than Don had been. The ride was to be twelve hours long, so the teens got an ample dose of pretty much every kind of information.

Powder, having just spent the entire day in an extended meeting with a number of old men and women, opted to take a nap for the first five hours of the flight. The teens, awed by the private jet supplied them, helped themselves at the snack bar and chatted with the pilot, whose name, coincidentally, was Donald.

Vince sat in the co-pilot’s seat, munching on what tasted like a fruit roll-up while Jenny rambled on about the religions of Earth. "Well, most of the conflict comes from the religions that are monotheistic…" Jenny said.

Vince, not very intrigued by Jenny’s analysis interrupted, "Aww, gee, hon. Why don’t you let him have a word in edgewise?"

Jenny, embarrassed, sat back and let Donald begin his own rambling speech.

For nearly the entire twelve hours, Donald talked about everything. On certain specifics on religion, Vince actually took notes, since he thought the information might be useful to Powder, and he didn’t want to disturb her. The man told the old legends of the immortals as Vince and Jenny listened, and Ryan passed out after extensively sampling the native liquors at the bar.

Jenny was particularly interested in religion, and her first question, one regarding Genesis, prompted Donald to tell a story that proved invaluable to the teen’s understanding of the situation.

On the mortal realm, he created matter; from that matter sprung forth life that brought spirits to the immortal realm. The first of these spirits, God named as his minions. These became the most powerful of the immortals, and to them, he entrusted the eternal management of the immortal realm. Soon, the immortals found themselves divided in ideologies.

There were those who swore by complete freedom, and those that vowed to achieve perfect equality. They became incredibly belligerent, and soon the eternal struggle had begun. Those who fought for freedom and chaos were demons and those who fought for equality and order were angels. Though both sides had originally sworn to stay on the immortal plane, the battle for souls soon came to the mortal plane and the ensuing strife threatened to destroy the very essence of both immortal and mortal planes.

Fate, an immortal who was the personal minion to God, pleaded to intervene, but the Lord refused. Fate thus created a link from the mortal to immortal worlds. It was upon this planet that Fate graciously shed her light. A great column of light fell from the heavens and from this light, rose a breed of mighty warriors who hunted out and slew the rogue demons and angels who had breached the sacred pact and came to the mortal plane. These half-immortal warriors established their homeland here and their great clans guarded the universe. For this reason, they were known abroad as the Wardens.

To the inhabitants of this planet, they were Clan Ssarth, the ancient descendants of the clan that inhabits the Pfeng valley, the place where we’re headed right now. Several millennia ago, a force of demons came across the very link that provided the Ssarth with their power and they destroyed all civilization on this planet.

Every Warden that was left fled the planet in pursuit of the demons and none were ever seen again. They took with them every bit of the magic that had protected the mortal realm for generations. Prophecy said that the Ssarth would bring the ancient immortal light back to planet Bastion."

Here, Donald drew a deep breath and let out a sigh, indicating that he was finished with his story. Vince took the opportunity to lay down his pen and paper and comment, "I guess that’s where we come in."

Donald typed a few things into his console and said, "I’m gonna take a nap, you should probably do the same." Vince glanced to his left where Jenny had fallen asleep in his lap and decided to take the cue.

All five travelers were wakened by a shrill beeping coming from the pilot’s console. Donald flicked a switch and assumed the controls. "Well, we’re here."

"That's incredible." Jenny mumbled.

"Well, that's not the strange part," Donald remarked, "There's an extremely large river system that passes through this land- Some of those fissures in the land are actually filled with running water. And the soil, though dry, is incredibly fertile. The water seems to refuse to soak in. This phenomenon and the Wisp Mountains are two of the things that keeps the legends alive."

"What caused this?" Powder asked as they began their final descent.

"Legend says that there remains a conclave of demons that guard the river to prevent the revival of the ancient Ssarth."

"Great, that's just what we need now." Powder remarked, taking the dagger from her bag and slipping it in her high boots, "Donald, who do we contact when we land?"

"My clan called ahead. There should be someone waiting on the ground, in the terminal."

Landing went uneventfully, and Donald bade farewell and good luck to his passengers, and left them to refuel his plane.

Powder glanced around. Here, the sky was a tantalizing blue, significantly darker than the sky anywhere on Earth. Nonetheless, the sun scorched the alien party. The temperature was probably a dry ninety degrees, with no clouds in sight. The landing site was excessively bare, considering the fact that the Ssarth had a monopoly on the magic drug trade. There were a few aircraft hangers and a rather small office building that probably served as a terminal.

Powder led the teens the terminal, where a man awaited them. From her conversations with the Feldston Elders, Powder could immediately tell that the man was a member of the Ssarth.

He was dressed in the typical formalwear of the planet, a simple black suit with a vertical collar, on which little silver studs indicated the wearer's rank in his clan. Usually, a colorful outer cloak indicated which clan the wearer belonged to. The Ssarth wore a cloak of black and white. As a tradition, the Ssarth also wore an insignia on their left breast that indicated what planet they were from- a remnant of better days gone by. Powder had learned that the demons had destroyed their civilization so badly that they had been technologically thrown back several millennia, and had only recently rediscovered the secrets of space travel.

The man recognized the outlandish crew immediately. He smiled, "Welcome. I believe you are the saviors of the mortal realm? I am most honored. Please follow me."

"Well, if you put it that way…" Ryan remarked as he fell in behind the man.

The man led them to a vehicle that looked very much like a black flying saucer with windows and a door. All the Earthlings saw the glow of magic that the vehicle was seated on, but none saw it with as much detail as Vince did. The vehicle seemed to be floating on a cushion of colors that rolled like oil on turbulent water.

The man opened a door and beckoned the teens inside. "Welcome to the Pfeng River Valley." He chuckled, "It’s not much of a tourist attraction as you can probably tell."

Inside, everyone felt a euphoric tingling sensation- they no longer felt weary or hot, and they immediately felt calm and relaxed, even though they completely understood their ongoing predicament. Their escort immediately noticed Powder's discomfort at the comforting sensation, and assured her, "It's simply a relaxation spell. No need to worry- just let it do its job."

"Where are we going?" Ryan asked, as if the reply would mean anything to him.

"My elder's meeting hall. They are all assembled and are waiting for you."

That was all the man, or anyone for that matter, said during the ride, which only took a few minutes, and was extraordinarily comfortable.

Once the vehicle came to a stop, their escort opened the door and everyone got out. The meeting hall was very conservative compared to the Feldston clan hall. The meeting hall was a stand-alone structure that looked very much like a public library with a formidable fight of steps leading to the main entrance. Once inside, the Earthlings discovered that it did in fact serve as the clan's archives as well as the elder's meeting hall. The escort instructed them to check in at the front desk where the receptionist would bring them into the meeting. He apologized for not escorting them inside, and explained that he was actually in charge of arranging the security detail surrounding the Earthlings, and he was late for a meeting of the clan guardsmen.

Ryan led the way to the meeting hall, bounding up the steps two at a time, but by the time he got to the top of the steps, the relaxation spell wore off and he sat down to wait for the others to ascend the steps. "I'm not happy any more." Ryan commented, getting up slowly and wiping sweat off his brow. "I've got to learn how to cast that spell."

Fortunately for Ryan, the inside of the meeting hall was also laced with relaxation magic. "These mood swings can't be healthy." Jenny commented as they entered. Feeling good again, she decided to take the lead, much to Powder's surprise and dismay. "Hello. We're here to talk to the Ssarth Elders."

"Ah, you must be Powder." The receptionist got up from behind his desk.

"No, I'm Powder." Powder replied, "She's just a bit excited."

As they were ushered into the meeting room, the Elders stood to greet them. The elder wearing the decorations signifying his superior rank extended his hand in greeting, "Welcome to our homeland. I presume you are the four warriors returned to liberate our realm from the scourge of Hell."

Ryan whispered to Vince, "I wish we got this kind of respect at home."

Powder nudged Ryan to shut him up before replying, "Yes, we bear disturbing news. The demons imprisoned by your ancestors have been released, and they are currently overrunning our homeland. We must find a way to return and aid my comrades."

"We believe we can aid you in this endeavor, now that you have released the Wisps from the mountains."

"Well, then we'd best hurry. I have no idea how long my comrades can defend my planet without our aid."

"Then you are already versed in the ancient magics?" the elder seemed justifiably surprised.

"No. I only know that this dagger can kill demons and that these young men and this young woman can tear the souls from demons."

"Oh my. The demons must have diminished greatly in strength then."

"No, they're still rather formidable." Powder seemed to be losing confidence every second.

"Well, we have an alternate solution for you. One that we've been debating in the council." The elder provided much respite form the increasingly depressing conversation.

"Well, what is it?" Jenny blurted out, growing impatient under the mounted tension.

"As you know, the river Pfeng was originally the source of all ancient magic- the magic that the Wardens used to slay demons and angels. The reason that the river no longer yields any magic or life is that the demon force you speak of has left behind a few sentinels to prevent the rebirth of the Ssarth clan as it existed millennia ago. Defeat these demons, and you will bring rebirth to the ancient clan."

"Even if we do kill the demons, how can you be sure that the magic will be resurrected?" Jenny inquired.

"And in time to save our own planet." Powder added.

The elder answered matter-of-factly, "Because it is written in prophecy."

The earthlings were overwhelmed. They opted to ask for few more hours to make their decision, and the secretary was called to bring them to a separate meeting room. Once the door closed, Powder began the debate, "What do you guys think?"

Vince was shocked. Powder was actually asking them for advice. "Well, I think that t would be a good investment of time to go after these demons. If we can kill them, then the mages here might be able to help us."

"There are a lot of "mights" in that theory though. The demons on earth are probably wreaking havoc as we speak. We don't even know if the others got out of that temple alive." Ryan added, "With all the nukes on the planet, the incorporeal demons may have already fried the planet to a cinder."

"Thanks for the cheery outlook," Jenny added, "If we don't have the mages to help, what are our chances of success?" A dumbfounded silence followed.

That sobering thought made the decision rather easy, and made the remainder of the meeting time unnecessary. Oddly, when the teens exited the room, a team of eight combat-ready Ssarth clansmen stood at attention and saluted. One of the elders stood in front of them and saluted also. Powder returned the salute and the elder explained, "We are here to reinforce your team on your hunt."

"How did you know?" Vince asked.

"Because it too is written in prophecy."

"Excellent." Powder remarked, then added warily, "Does prophecy also say if we triumph or not?"

"All it speaks of is an eternal battle."

"That's just great." Vince said, buckling on a gun that the clansmen had brought.

"Where do you think we can find the demons? And, are you aware that guns are effectively useless against many demons?"

The clansmen grinned. "The guns are to protect us from the beasts on the way to the demons' lair, so we might conserve our powers. We are the clans mage lords."

"Wow! This should be a piece of cake then." Ryan commented, conjuring up images of fire hurling arch magi that he had read about in science fantasy books.

"Actually our magic is as useless as the guns- believe me, many have tried and failed."

Powder just sighed in response as she buckled on her own set of guns and helped Ryan with a shoulder holster. "What kind of opposition are we talking about?"

"Well, a few legendary mage lords have actually killed some of the demons, but they have always regenerated and avenged their deaths. The writings in our archives speak of four major demons that guard the source of the river. All are corporeal. One has been described as a dragon-like creature. Records of the other three are so varied, exaggerated, and vague that we don't have any semblance of a description to provide."

"So are your guys mage lords of 'legendary' quality?" Jenny asked playfully.

The mage lords grinned, and the group introduced themselves briefly before they all set off in a train of floating transports, four to a transport. The events of the following days went by so rapidly that the teens had no time to commit any of the mages' names to memory. They simply shouted ambiguous statements, questions, and warnings whenever necessary, and it was several months before they became acquainted with the lords that had aided him in their quest.

The transports brought the teens to the edge of the deep desert, where everyone disembarked on a foot journey and the vehicles returned home on their own accord. The ground was baked clay for miles in every direction.

"Why are we walking now?" Ryan asked.

"We need the demons to find us." One of the mage lords replied.

"We are both hunters and bait." Another added. "That is the way it has always been done. Unfortunately, once we kill the first, the other three typically find us rather quickly."

"So we just sit here and wait for them to find us?" Jenny asked.

"No, we walk."

So they walked. They had only traveled for a few miles before a forest came into sight. Even from afar, there seemed something amiss about the forest. Perhaps it was just the desolate sea of clay laying before the tree line. The scene was also eerily still and silent. The only discernable movement was a raptor circling high above the forest. "Aha! An imp!" one of the mage lords cried, letting loose a glowing violet bolt from his finger tips.

The bolt went straight to the creature circling above the trees and vaporized it on contact.

"Now we can sit and wait for the imp's master to come."

It was not long before a dull thumping sound could be heard. "Dragon Demon." One of the mages muttered under his breath.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Ryan asked nervously as the thumping grew steadily louder.

"We know how to bring him down. We just need you to finish him off once we get him on the ground. Stay clear of his limbs. We will do our best to constrain him, but there are no guarantees."

"I figured as much. You kids stay here. I'll take him out. Be ready to come help me out though." Powder directed.

Vince wondered what could be so formidable that Powder would need their help. That question was answered very soon afterwards. The thundering beat was the beat of immense leathery wings against the stale hot air. The wings were that of a huge scaly lizard, not unlike dragons of the storybooks of Earth. . Fortunately, the mages had their act down to a science, so the adventurers had no chance to learn about the beast's poisonous breath and its razor sharp fangs and talons.

When the beast came in sight, the mages joined hands and began an incantation that created a vortex directly in the dragon's path, sending it careening to the earth just a few hundred meters away. Through the cloud of clay dust, they all were able to see the beast struggling to rise against some invisible force. "Now!" Shouted one of the magi.

Powder dashed to the fallen Demon. Coming up close, she could really appreciate how difficult killing this beast would have been without the aid of the mages. The thing had the wing span of a 747. Its head alone was nearly the size of an M1 A1 Abrams tank. It was well scaled, well taloned, and well fanged, but pinned to the ground under magical force, it did not pose a threat to Powder. She dashed to its neck and sliding the dagger under its scales, she slashed inward until the beast's muscles lay limp, and her arm was slippery with icy cold green blood. At which point, she beckoned to the teens to come over and relieve it of its soul. Jenny dashed over and sent her hand through the center of the creature.