"Story Time" is copyright © 1997 by Morgan MacLeod, all rights reserved. Do not distribute, archive, or repost without prior permission from the author.

Xena and Gabrielle belong to MCA/Renaissance Pictures. Some characters herein are also based on situations belonging to Paramount. All these characters are used here in a strictly non-profit manner, and their appearance is in no way intended to infringe on the trademarks of MCA, Renaissance Pictures, or Paramount.

It was hard going in the pass that day. The trail was uneven, and treacherous. It wound slowly over the north shoulder of the mountain, with many turns and switchbacks as it followed the most accessible contours. Rockfalls had obscured the path in some places, and they had to pick their way either across or around loose boulders and debris. At times the ground fell away sharply on their right, and they had to hug the southern rockface in order to pass. And as they climbed, it grew colder.

Around midday, exhausted and chilled, they found a place where the trail widened, and led in twisted fashion between two higher ridges. Sheltered from the winds that had begun to whip around them in the more open sections of the pass, they stopped to rest in a small blind canyon off the trail.

Xena set Argo loose to graze what meagre growth of grasses there was in the canyon, then joined the others in collecting deadwood for a fire. Once the fire was crackling merrily away, Rillian set water to boil for chi-ka, and pulled out of her pack some cheese, dried meat strips and flatbread, and a handful of dried fruits as well. "Lunch is ready," she announced, as Gabrielle came over to sit by the fire, having pulled her winter clothes and cloak out of Xena's saddlebags.

"This is great. Dried rabbit, and what kind of cheese is this? Doesn't smell like feta." Gabrielle stuffed one of the round breads with as much as it would hold and raised it to her mouth.

"It's all I have left. It's made with cow's milk, instead of goats or sheep."

"Really? It's delicious."

Meanwhile, Xena, who had taken the opportunity to strap on her winter leathers to protect her arms and legs from the biting wind, came up behind them. Sitting down by the fire, she poured herself a cup and assembled a packet of meat, cheese and bread. "It's colder than I remembered," she commented, biting deeply into her food.

"It was early fall when you crossed these mountains before, wasn't it?" Gabrielle asked, chewing on a mouthful of dried dates and apples.

"Yeah. It is a little later in the year, this time."

"At least there's no sign of snow, even on the higher peaks," added Rillian. "I've crossed mountains where there is always snow, even in the height of summer."

"Where was that?"

"The worst was in a place they call the Roof of the World, many months travel east of here. I have hundreds of stories about that journey alone."

Gabrielle's eyes brightened. "Really? What was it like. Was it really the Roof of the World? I thought that was in the west, where Atlas guards the gates to the Outer Sea."

Xena looked pointedly at the sky as Rillian leaned forward as if to speak. "It's getting on. We should be moving."

"You're worried we won't make it to the coast in time, aren't you?" Gabrielle asked quietly.

"Don't ask silly questions, Gabrielle," Xena replied, taking a deep swallow of her drink to finish it off. "You'd better get dressed."

While Xena packed her saddlebags once more, and arranged the burden carefully on Argo's back, Gabrielle pulled on her leggings and a heavy tunic. "Rillian, don't you need any warmer clothes?"

"Not really. These leather trousers I picked up in Scythia are warm and comfortable, and so is the tunic. I've got my cloak if it gets any colder, but for now I'm fine." She looked over her shoulder, to where Xena stood, Argo at her side, waiting. "We'd better get moving." She carefully scattered the remains of the fire while Gabrielle finished gathering her gear, and they walked over to join Xena.

The afternoon was little different than the morning had been, safe that the trail wound steadily higher on the mountain flank. Now that they were on the move, Xena seemed more relaxed, and listened without interruption to Rillian's tales of hardships and strange things seen and heard on the path she said was called the Silk Road. It certainly seemed to make the time pass more quickly, and she could see how Gabrielle lapped up the exotic stories Rillian had to tell. In all honesty, she was enjoying them herself. She'd travelled enough herself to recognise in these tales things she'd heard before from other travellers met in far off places, and she'd always known that knowledge was a thing to be sought after. One never knew when something learned in the idlest of conversations could be used to one's advantage.

Nightfall found them almost halfway to the summit, and settled in reasonable comfort in a small hollow, not quite a cave, but sheltered from the sky be an overhang of rock, and large enough for all, as long as they kept close. Considering the cold, this was hardly something anyone was inclined to complain about. There was room for a small fire, upon which bubbled a stew of several small animals Xena had spotted and felled along the way, and with the paucity of grasses this high on the mountain, Xena had supplemented Argo's diet with a few handfuls of grain. Fed and wrapped as best as they could manage against the cold, all four huddled together. At Xena's urging, Argo settled down on one side of the hollow, and then the three women leaned against her, taking warmth from her bulk. Rillian tucked herself into the hollow first, then Gabrielle, and Xena took the outside place, nearest the trail, where she could hear and answer any threat in the night. The other two women seemed to fall into slumber quickly, worn out as they were from the long climb. Xena lay awake for a while, drinking in the warmth of Gabrielle's body pressed close to hers. At last she forced herself to turn away, and sank into sleep herself. In the morning, she would remember the feeling of Gabrielle's arm slide across her body to wrap tightly around her waist in the night as she slept, and wonder if it had been only a dream.

The second day in the pass was much like the first, fraught with the same dangers from uncertain footing, the remains of previous rockslides, and the threat of new rockfall either above or beneath them. Fortunately, the treacherous sections of the trail were interspersed with stretches where they could relax as the path became more easily traversed. As evening began to close around them, they found a small cave to shelter in, just below the summit, and used the firewood collected throughout the day to start a fire and cook their dinner. Though they had more room in the little cave, still the bitter cold resulted in the same close quarters as the night before.

Early morning saw them on the trail once more. They reached the crest of the pass after about an hour's climbing, and stood amazed for a moment as they looked down on the twists and turns of the trail as it led down the side of the great mountain, to the point where the rock fell sharply away to a thin strip of land lying between the cliffs and the sea. Redoubling caution, both in their footing, and in their careful watch on the sky, they started their descent.

It was, if anything, even more difficult coming down out of the high defile than it had been climbing up into it. Loose pebbles and stones, and weathered rock that needed only a little too much weight on the wrong fracture line to crumble beneath them, continued to plague their steps. And the downward slope made balance harder to maintain. Nonetheless, they maintained a steady pace, with Xena and Argo, as ever, in the lead, and Gabrielle and Rillian following with care.

To take their minds off the effort of navigating the sloping trail, Gabrielle and Rillian began resumed their good-natured bardic contest. First one would tell a story, then the other would critique it, demanding reasons for each choice of plot element or characterisation, analysing the use of imagery, the style and structure of each piece. Xena listened quietly, in growing appreciation of the work, skill and ability involved in what she had always thought of simply as Gabrielle's penchant for telling stories.

By mid afternoon, each of them had taken several turns at being the storyteller. The duel had gone on unabated during a midday rest period, and now Gabrielle was in the middle of a spirited rendition of her tale of the War between the Amazons and the Centaurs, when Xena thought she heard a frenzied bleating in the distance, coming from ahead of them, and above them.

"Quiet!" She hissed, eyeing the skies above them, and then the terrain around them.

The trail had widened since the early morning, and now twisted slowly downwards in a long series of switchbacks that followed the ridges of the mountain's ragged slope. At this moment, they were in the open, having just crossed over a shallow spur and begun to curve around and down onto the broad shelf of rock that lay beneath it. Not far along the path Xena could see a defensible place, where the ledge began to fall below the ridge they had crossed, and some loose rock had fallen away, leaving an overhang. She pointed to it. "No noise. Now move!"

As quietly as they could, they scrambled down the path, ducking under the ledge. As they did so, the creature appeared, soaring into sight from around the far side of the mountain peak above them.

It was the largest animal Gabrielle had ever seen. The bulbous body alone was bigger than a horse, and with its membraneous wings extended, it was enormous. At the tip of each wing was a rudimentary paw, with three sharp claws. Its neck was long and bony, with folds of leathery skin, and seemed to barely support its head. Tiny, deep-set eyes on either side of the head framed a giant beak, wide like a lizard's, and lined with rows of sharp teeth. Its legs were small but powerful, and ended in raptor-like claws, and tail was broad and flat. Dangling from those sharp hind claws was a half grown lamb.

Xena sighed in relief. "Thank the gods, it's only part grown," she whispered. "It's still hunting easy prey. That's either a runt, or lateborn and probably the weakest of the flock."

As they watched, the creature flew lazily overhead, towards the seaward side of the mountain to the north of them. Xena turned to the other two. "I've got to see where it's headed." As she looked overhead speculatively, as if contemplating a climb to higher ground, Rillian quickly pulled a small tube out of the purse that hung from her waist. "Take this. It's a seeing glass."

Xena nodded, and grabbing it from the other woman, reached above her for a handhold on the rock ledge, and then swung up and out of sight. Below, Gabrielle and Rillian continued to watch the phantastical beast until it had flown out of range of their sight.

"That was only part grown?" Gabrielle whispered in amazement, although the flying horror was no longer visible.

Suddenly there was a tiny shower of loose pebbles, and Xena had appeared beside them once more. "Well, at least we know what direction to search," she commented, handing the glass back to Rillian. "I've heard of these before, but never one this powerful."

"It was made in a land far from here. I guess they have more experience making them. Where do you think the creature lairs?"

Xena pointed up towards the mountain to the north of them. "See that big column of rock jutting out on the northeast slope? It was starting to descend as it neared there. I think its nest must be north of there, and inland."

"Do you want to start searching now?" asked Gabrielle.

"No, first we warn the villages on the coast." Grimly, Xena looked down toward the coast. "If they don't already know. And stop them from staking out their daughters for a sacrifice. Then, we hunt the beast, and its nest. Let's get going. We have less time than I thought."

They pressed on down the mountainside, travelling silently at first, as the reality of the creature's presence somewhere in the cliffs and canyons around them sank in. Finally, Gabrielle could stand the soundless atmosphere of tension no longer. " Xena. When we saw that... thing, you said it wasn't full grown. How much bigger was the one you and your men killed?"

"About three times."

"Does it have a name?"

"A what?" Xena asked incredulously.

"A name. You know, like the Minotaur, or the Gorgons, or the Bacchai. Monsters usually have names. How about this one?"

"I don't think so."

"What do the villagers around here call it?"

"Last time I was here, they called it the monster."

"Well, that's hardly a precise name." Gabrielle turned to Rillian. "Imagine, in a few years, once I've written a song about this, how are people going to ask for it? 'Tell me the story of Xena and the Monster?' Which monster? It needs a name."

Xena shook her head in bewilderment. "Go ahead and name it then, Gabrielle."

"What do you think, Rillian? What would you call it?"

"I'd have to think about that one."

"Hmmm, Let's see. Fangterror? Skyterror? Wingfear? Skyclaw?"

"Skyfang? Rockfright?"

"Oh, that one's good. But not quite. Stoneclaw?"

Xena interrupted their musings. "Why don't you just call it the Thing?"

"No poetry to it." Gabrielle pronounced. "Imagine announcing you're going to recite the tale of Xena and the Thing."

Rillian chimed in. "It could start a new trend in epic titles. Hercules and the Three-headed Whatsis."

Gabrielle giggled. "Jason and the Golden Whatever."

"Gabrielle. Rillian. Could you talk about this later? We need some speed here, and you're wasting your breath laughing."

"Sorry, Xena. It's just the tension." For the rest of the afternoon, they trekked on in relative silence, though Gabrielle continued to mutter softly, as she considered potential names for the anonymous creature.

Despite the added urging for speed, nightfall found them still in the pass, though low enough that the next day would easily see them clear of the mountains. For some time they had been forging on through the gathering dusk, with one eye on the terrain for a possible shelter. Finally, as they clambered down the side of one of the steeper ridges into a small ravine, they found a small hollow, where wind and rain had worn away the soft shale below a shelf of harder granite. Grateful for the overhead cover, they crowded in, finding room enough for three to rest comfortably, if at close quarters, with space for Argo as well.

"It's more exposed than I'd like", Xena noted, as she unsaddled Argo, and fed her some more grain.

"Can't have everything," Gabrielle responded, as she snatched the last of the wood from the pile of gear Argo had carried to build the fire with. "It's too dark to look further, and it's the best campsite we've seen in the last two hours."

"That wood won't last the night," observed Rillian. "There were some dead scrub trees higher up on the side of this hill, I'll go get enough for the night."

"Be careful," Xena warned her. "I don't know if this thing hunts at night."

"Don't worry." Rillian grinned, and patted the handaxe she carried in her belt. "I'm too big for it to carry, and I know how to use this."

"Thought you might." Xena grinned back. "But be careful anyway."

Rillian slipped out into the rapidly deepening darkness, as Xena sat down beside Gabrielle in front of the fire.

"I haven't been in the best of moods," she said.

"I understand." Gabrielle turned to look into Xena's deep blue eyes. "You failed these people, twice, and it's eating you up inside. It'll keep on eating at you 'til you fix it. You have nothing to apologise to me for."

"Thanks, Gabrielle. I'm glad you're here."

Gabrielle smiled. "Where else would I be? I want to be with you, to help you, even to fight horrible flying monsters with you." Suddenly, Gabrielle felt a rush of emotion rising in her, threatening to bring her to tears. Swallowing hard to keep her feelings under control, she turned away and started rooting in the saddlebags for cooking pots and some of their store of food. "Besides, where else could an aspiring bard get such great material? That creature is going to be the stuff of nightmares, once I finish writing about it."

Xena smiled. "So what are you going to call it?"

"I thought you didn't care."

"I was thinking about it. You were right. 'The Ballad of Xena and the Big Critter' just doesn't have the right ring to it."

Gabrielle started to laugh, her shoulders shaking helplessly.

"I didn't think it was that funny."

The bard pointed to Xena's chakram, and struggled to regain her breath. "I was just thinking of Princess Diana. Could you imagine the reaction to a line like 'Swift and sure, the ice-eyed warrior cast her round killing thingy at the awful big critter, bringing it low!'. I could never get a place at a festival again!"

Xena joined her in laughter. "That would be a bit much. So what are you going to call it?"

"Wingclaw, I think." Gabrielle set down the packet of trail food she held in her hands, and began to stretch out her arms, fingers contorted like claws. "It kind of describes what's most unusual about it, those weird wings that stretch out from its body, and the claws right at the end." She waved her arms for emphasis. "And the repeated "wh" sound gives you the sense of something swooping through the air."

"Wingclaw. 'Xena and the Wingclaw'. Yeah, that sounds better." Xena reached out, and put her arm around Gabrielle's shoulder, drawing the younger woman close against her. "I've been listening to you and Rillian talk about bardology, or whatever."

"It's been kind of hard to avoid it."

"I don't think I'd stopped to think about how hard it is to do what you do before. It's like mounting a campaign, only with words. And you're damned good at it." She gave Gabrielle a quick squeeze, losing herself for a moment in the sensation of that warm, soft body pressed closely against hers, fitting so perfectly, curve to curve. She caught herself, and drew away, uneasy that she might forget and hold the bright-eyed poet too closely. "I just thought I'd let you know."

"Thanks. It means a lot to me. That you think I'm good, that is. I know you know that writing means a lot to me." She scooped the dried meat she had cut, and some grain and herbs into the cook pot, and set it near the fire. "Hand me that waterskin? Thanks. There we go," she said. "Stew again, as soon as it's simmered a bit."

"There's an inn in the village below."

"Oh great! Food I didn't cook myself. Baths. Hot water baths..." She was interrupted by Rillian, returning with an armful of wood.

"Baths?"

"Xena says there's an inn in the village."

"Ah. Baths. Excellent." Rillian settled down by the fire, opposite Xena. "I like hot baths."

"And real beds," Gabrielle added, with a wistful tone. "Warm beds."

"Soft beds," added Rillian. "And a goblet of wine with dinner."

"Pastries dripping with honey and nuts for dessert."

"Someone else to clean up."

"If you two are finished," Xena spoke wryly, "the stew is boiling. I think it's ready."

Rillian sighed. "Back to reality. Hand me the plates, I'll dish it out. And there's some more flatbread in my pack, may as well finish it before it gets mouldy."

"Right. There you are," said Xena, as Rillian took the plates and loaded each with bread and stew.

"Do you think the Wingclaw will be back tomorrow?" Gabrielle mumbled through a mouth full of stew.

Xena shrugged. "Assume the worst, you won't be disappointed."

"You decided on Wingclaw?" asked Rillian. "I like it. Sharp, hard sounds. Nasty word for a nasty animal."

"And it's better than 'big ugly critter'," Gabrielle smiled, and looked up at Xena.

"Yeah, it is." Xena smiled. "But speaking of big ugly critters, I think we should take watches tonight. This hollow is better than nothing, but it's not safe."

"I was thinking the same thing," Rillian agreed.

"Good. I'll take first watch. Rillian, you can take second."

"What about me?"

Xena looked at Gabrielle, her face deadpan. "If Rillian can manage to wake you up, you can have the dawn watch."

"I don't sleep that soundly."

"I never said you did. It's up to Rillian, and how hard she feels like shaking you."

"Rillian, she is exaggerating. Really. I'll be fine with the dawn watch."

"Don't worry about it Gabrielle. I'll wake you. But I think we ought to get to sleep soon, if we're taking watches." She wiped her plate as clean as possible with the last of the bread, and then reached for some grass to complete the job. The others followed suit, scouring the cookpot with grass as well before packing the utensils away. Then, with a quiet chorus of goodnights, Rillian and Gabrielle curled up in their blankets, while Xena turned half away from them, and stared out into the darkness, listening, watching, for any hint that the beast she had come to hunt was hunting her instead.

Today had been only an introduction to the quarry. She'd seen it, caught the scent, marked her prey. Tomorrow the hunt would begin in earnest.