You Call this Archaeology?

Complete
Action/Adventure, Drama, Romance
Daniel/other
Spoilers for In the Line of Duty
Season 5
Violence, innuendo, torture

Disclaimers:

Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, The SciFi Channel, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. The character of Ayesha, the Amahagger tribe and the lost city of Kôr were created by H. Rider Haggard. This story is written purely for my own entertainment, and that of anyone else who may happen to read it. No infringement of copyright is intended. It is not intended and should never be used for commercial purposes.

The original characters, situations and ideas contained within this work are the property of the author.

Author's Notes:

Part 3 of King Solomon's Naquadah Mines, following Bad Dates and Fortune and Glory.

 Acknowledgements:

 Thanks be to Sho, God of God and Queen of Queens.

The Prophet, 6^th August 2002

You Call this Archaeology?

"So, here we are again," Jack said to Daniel. "You, me, the evil genius and the mob of goons."

"We have to stop going to these kinds of party," Daniel agreed. He was dimly aware of another group of guards entering the throne room through the door behind them, as the major domo repeated the order for Daniel and Jack to kneel. Of course, they did not comply. They both knew that they would be forced down eventually, but it was more or less a matter of principle to not go willingly.

At a gesture from Ayesha, Teal'c and Nefera rose. The Jaffa grabbed Jack's shoulders and forced him to kneel, while Nefera did the same to Daniel. Both wore an expression of fierce and desperate concentration, but despite this obvious effort, neither seemed able to shrug off the Queen's mental control, any more than either Jack or Daniel had the physical strength to keep their feet. Jack might have fought one or more of the guards, but not Teal'c; not when the Jaffa was plainly not in control of his actions. They were pushed to their knees, and although spared the indignity of being forced to prostrate themselves, they were bound, guards coming forward to tie their hands behind their backs.

"You are strong," Ayesha commended them, in Arabic.

"We work out," Jack replied. "Thanks for noticing." Daniel was a little surprised that the Colonel spoke Arabic, but he supposed it made sense if he had been involved in operations in the Middle East.

The Goa'uld Queen smiled a cold, cruel smile, and turned to Teal'c. "Jaffa," she ordered. "Take the two women away. You," she gestured to three of her guards. "Accompany them. Show them to our most comfortable prison. Keep them under guard, but see to their needs; they may be of use to us later."

Sam rose, as unwillingly as Teal'c and Nefera, and the three of them marched out.

"How is she doing that?" Jack asked in a low whisper.

"Some property of the Tomb, I guess," Daniel replied. "Something similar to the calling effect which drew Sam and Teal'c here, that allows her to manipulate Goa'uld hosts and Jaffa through their symbiotes, or through the naquadah in their systems."

"A little of both," Ayesha said.

"You speak English?" Again, Daniel was surprised, although he was not sure quite why.

"We speak all tongues," she replied. "But you are correct in your deduction, as far as it goes."

Ayesha rose from her throne, and with a predatory grace she descended from the dais and moved in a slow circle around the two men, looking them up and down. Her ever-burning eyes seemed to bore into them, making Daniel's skin crawl. She trailed a hand along his shoulders and he shivered.

"Very good," Ayesha acknowledged with a hungry smile. She moved past Daniel and ran her fingers through Jack's hair. He tossed his head to dislodge her. "Strong, brave, spirited. You are fine champions."

"Champions, huh," Jack retorted. "What do we win?"

"Nothing yet," Ayesha replied. "Tell us, which of you belongs to which."

"Which to which what?" Daniel asked.

"Who's on first?" Jack added. Ayesha cuffed him playfully around the head, knocking him sprawling on his face. "Ow," Jack said.  He lay there for a moment, before managing to lever himself onto his side.

"Which of you belongs to which of the Goa'uld," Ayesha said, crouching in front of Daniel. She caught him at the back of his neck, and forced his gaze to meet hers. She exhaled softly, and a pungent scent filled the air around them. "Which of them brought you here?"

"Nefera, I guess," Daniel replied.

"The dark one?"

"Um, yeah."

Ayesha stood. "So he belongs to the fair-haired one," she surmised. "What is she called?"

When neither answered, Ayesha drove her sandaled foot into Jack's midriff with enough force to lift him up, and send him tumbling fifteen foot to fetch up hard against a column. She followed, and lifted him by the throat, her honey-sweet breath wrapping itself around him. "What is her name?"

"Major Sam Carter," he answered, hoarsely.

Ayesha nodded, and tossed Jack casually to the ground beside Daniel.

"Doesn't she know she's supposed to beat-up on you?" Jack asked Daniel

Daniel shrugged. "Guess she didn't get the memo. Is it just my imagination?" Daniel replied. "Or is she…"

"Very strong? Not your imagination," Jack assured him.

"Take them away," Ayesha ordered. "Prepare them for our pleasure."

"Oh boy, do I not like the sound of that," Jack muttered.

*

"Damnit Teal'c! If you close that door, so help me I'll…"

Boom! The door slammed shut with leaden finality, and a great, iron lock closed with a heavy clunk. Immediately, Sam found herself able to move freely, and flung herself at the door, battering madly at the stone.

"Curse you, shol'va!" Sam screamed. "I will see you die slowly and painfully a hundred times for this treachery. I will be free one day, and I will rend you limb-from-limb with my bear hands!"

"You know, that's harder to do than you might think," Nefera cautioned her.

"You!" Sam snarled, spinning to face her. She looked at the slender form, and saw a crackling potential housed within it; a power great enough to challenge her own. A power which must therefore be snuffed out.

"Calm down, Major Carter," Nefera cautioned. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You brought us here," Sam accused. "You knew this would happen. You have sold us all to the Goa'uld."

"No…" Nefera began, but Sam lunged for her, and she was forced to defend herself.

She sidestepped the first rush, then dodged a pair of quick blows before returning a solid cross to the Major's jaw. The punch would have staggered a professional boxer, but Sam barely flinched, and continued to pursue Nefera around their cell until at last she clipped the Ashrak with a hurled statuette. Nefera stumbled, and Sam was on her, grappling for her neck, trying to force the other woman's head down towards her chest.

"I…" Nefera choked. "I am the hand that wields thy sword." Sam hesitated, confused, and Nefera pressed on. "I am the blade in thine enemy's heart. I am the hunter who stalks thy prey. I am the shadow at thy command. Thine is the will that guides me; thine is the passion that drives me. Thou art my mistress, and I am thine Ashrak."

Sam released Nefera, and took a few staggering steps backwards, as the woman coughed and gasped for air. "What was that?" Sam demanded. "What just happened?"

"It is as I feared," Nefera said. "Somehow, Jolinar's Goa'uld instincts are being brought to the surface for you to act out."

Sam shook her head, confused. The past twenty-four hours seemed like such a blur. "This isn't possible," she said.

"Oh no? Tell me, Major? Do you speak Goa'uld?"

"No, I…Mai'tac!" She swore, realising that she had been speaking nothing else for some time. "But how can this be happening? I only have fragments of Jolinar's memories, and Jolinar wasn't Goa'uld."

"Well, Jolinar may have been Tok'ra," Nefera said. "But don't think that makes her a cute, fluffy bunny. She had the instincts of a Goa'uld, though she buried them deep. She sent thousands of men to their deaths against the armies of the Goa'uld, and when she had to be, she was as cold-blooded a killer as any I've known."

"You sound like you admire her."

"I do; or did. I've had few enemies I've respected as much. Why else would I bother to use her, instead of just eliminating her? We had a lot in common, she and I; we were even of a similar age, by Goa'uld standards."

Sam's eyes widened as a memory came back to her, unbidden. "You were…"

"Once. A very long time ago," Nefera admitted. "Of course she was a lot more butch at the time. Stephan, her host was called, I think."

"I thought that Jolinar only took female hosts?" Sam asked, confused.

"For preference," Nefera agreed. "But beggars can't be choosers, and in the matter of hosts, the Tok'ra are most definitely beggars. Moreover, Stephan was the former host of Perun, a minor Goa'uld. Jolinar captured him, extracted and killed the symbiote and took his place. You don't remember this?"

Sam shook her head. "As I said; the memories I inherited from Jolinar are pretty fragmented. I remember…bits," she admitted, a little embarrassed.

Nefera laughed. "It was kind of funny really. I was passing as a Jaffa at the time, and Perun was noted for his appetite for the ladies, so when I was presented to him, naturally everyone expected…But I digress," she said, noting Sam's discomfort with the subject.

"Yes," Sam agreed. "So what…Was I trying to bite you?" She asked.

"In the back of the neck," Nefera confirmed. "You were trying to bite through the skin to kill the symbiote wrapped around my host's spinal column. It's a pretty horrid way to die, but it's effective, and allows the killer to drink the blood of the dead."

"So why did I stop?" Sam asked, trying not to dwell on the thought.

"I swore to serve you as your Ashrak. All those genetic memories and instincts knew that removed me as a threat to you."

"And how come you don't see me as a threat?"

"Because I'm Ashrak."

Sam frowned. "What does that mean, exactly?"

Nefera settled herself on a couch. "That's a long story," she said.

Sam looked about, noticing for the first time how opulent their surroundings were. "I'm not going anywhere," she said. "Although…do you get the feeling this isn't really a cell?" She asked.

"Five-star accommodation," Nefera agreed. "But I suspect that the room service isn't up to much."

Sam smiled as she sat on one of the two beds and made herself comfortable. "So tell me about being an Ashrak," she prompted.

"Well, it starts with being a freak," Nefera said. "No genetic memory means no inborn ambition to threaten your master, no ancient grudges to distract you from service; and no idea what you're getting into. Other prim'ta can sense these aberrations, and will try to kill the afflicted larvae, so you have to rescue them quickly. Most die, but those who do not are sterilised and separated from the others for Ashrak training. A suitable host is selected, and the prim'ta is implanted into their belly. Usually the one chosen is not Jaffa before selection, but an ordinary human of about twenty-five years.

"The Jaffa is trained and conditioned, ceaselessly, and when she enters kelno'reem she is instructed to meditate on the day's teachings, filtering that knowledge to the empty, receptive mind of the Goa'uld maturing inside her. When the time comes, the Goa'uld rises inside her, and takes control of her body. The pouch in which it grew all but heals over," she added, drawing up her shirt to reveal an x-shaped scar on her belly.

"That's still your original host?" Sam asked.

"Oh yes. I like this body; I don't ever plan to give it up. I've taken good care of it, and been permitted enough use of the sarcophagus to keep it young until now."

"So why didn't that give you ambition?" Sam demanded.

"The sarcophagus does not increase ambition; merely removes conscience and restraint. I still existed to serve, but the sarcophagus took away all distraction and questioning."

"Made you a better killer."

Nefera nodded. "Yes. I haven't used one in years now, mind you."

"Shouldn't you be starting to fail?" Sam asked. "I mean…"

Nefera smiled. "I take care of my host," she assured Sam. "If you spend enough time on self-repair – at least three or four hours in a week – you can extend a host's lifespan by about fifty percent, on top of the usual increase."

"About…three hundred years," Sam said.

"That's right. You can also stave off some of the effects which lead to sarcophagus dependency, especially if you only use the things rarely."

Sam sighed. "So what do we do now?" She asked.

"Search me," Nefera replied. "You're the one in charge; I only work here."

*

Jack and Daniel were taken to another spacious chamber, in which there stood a great table. Food of all kinds sat on great silver platters and bowls, and there were jugs of wine and beer.

"Food," Daniel said, as they were sat at the table, and their hands released. The guards left them alone.

"Lots of food," Jack agreed. "It's probably drugged."

Daniel nodded his agreement. "We shouldn't eat it."

"No."

After a few minutes, Daniel said: "Jack."

"Yes?"

"You're eating."

Jack stopped, alarmed. "So are you," he accused.

They put the food they had been eating down, but after a few minutes they were eating again.

"Do you think we're already drugged?" Jack asked.

"Could be," Daniel agreed. "Maybe in the air or in the food the Amahagger gave us."

"Or her breath."

"But we're immune to that now," Daniel pointed out.

"We're immune to Hathor's breath," Jack corrected. "Maybe not to Ayesha's."

Daniel shook his head. "I feel no immediate urge to worship and obey her," he said. "This is different."

"Then maybe her breath has a different effect," Jack suggested.

"Curran describes the same thing we experienced," Daniel argued.

"Well, something's doing it," Jack said.

"On that we agree," Daniel said, taking a deep draught of wine. "This is good food though."

"Can't argue there," Jack admitted.

"Jack," Daniel said, suddenly.

"What?"

"There's a man behind you."

"Oh. Ditto."

Jack dropped from his chair and ducked to the side as a heavy scimitar came crashing down where his head had been. Daniel pushed himself backwards, the back of his chair slamming into a second beefy warrior before he had time to react. His assailant toppled backwards, and Daniel rolled awkwardly from his seat as it fell. He scrambled to his feet, and with some difficulty lifted the heavy chair, swinging it with as much force as he could muster into the warrior's face.

Meanwhile, Jack's opponent was trying to dislodge his sword from the chair back. Jack kicked him in the kneecap, causing him to stumble, and put out his hand for balance. Taking advantage of his distraction, Jack leaped onto the table, then sprang agilely down behind the warrior, catching him in a headlock. He pushed, and the man's neck broke with a sickening crack.

"Jack?" Daniel asked, warily. He was used to violence from Jack, but not brutality.

"I don't know what came over me," Jack admitted, a little disturbed himself. "I just…suddenly wanted to kill someone."

Daniel shivered as he picked up his attacker's scimitar. "Your guy left the door open," he said, pointing behind Jack.

Jack looked round, and nodded. "Let's go see what's behind door number three," he agreed, tugging the sword from his chair back with some difficulty.

Behind the door was another chamber, large and empty, lit from above, with lines of hieroglyphic writing along the wall. "Daniel." Jack cautioned. "Don't. Touch. Anything."

Daniel nodded absent-mindedly, and began walking slowly along the wall. "This isn't Egyptian," he said. "The characters are, but the language is more like Pashtu. It looks like a poem."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Any good?" He moved to the only other door, and shoved on it. It did not move.

"In the original it might be," Daniel admitted. "Translation doesn't do much for it though. It seems to be about a man going down from the mountains to the sea. He's given three gifts by three women," Daniel continued. "A maiden, a matron and a crone…"

"This is fascinating," Jack said, unconvincingly. "But since there isn't any other way out, why don't we go back and…"

Boom.

Jack stared in alarm at the door that had just slammed closed behind them. "Daniel!"

"I didn't touch anything, I swear."

"Then why did the door close?" Jack demanded. "And why…why are my feet wet?"

"Water!" Daniel called. "There's water coming in from somewhere."

"Well, that's great, but how do we stop it?"

"I don't know," Daniel admitted. "How about the door?"

"Sealed tight," Jack replied, hurling himself against the slab.

Daniel frowned, and went to try the other door; the one they had not entered through. It was as solid as the first, but next to it was a panel, covered in hieroglyphs. "Jack!" He called.

"What?" Jack responded, impatiently.

"There's a combination lock."

"What?" The water had reached Daniel's knees.

"This panel, it has a series of pictograms on it."

"And?"

"I think it relates to the poem. The three gifts that the man is given help him to survive the perils that threaten to overtake him when he's swept away by a wave. So putting them in order…" He looked around the walls. "Comb." He pressed a pictogram and it lit up. "Net. And…Oar." He pressed the third symbol, and nothing happened.

"So at the end of the poem, does our hero drown by any chance?" Jack asked, acidly. He came and stood behind Daniel.

"No. He comes back to shore, marries the maiden and…Marriage!" He cried, pressing the image of a knot.

Almost immediately, the water began to drain away, and after it was gone, the door opened.

"You're good," Jack admitted.

"I am so good," Daniel replied.

"You da man."

"Oh yeah!"

"How you feeling?" Jack asked.

"Pretty good," Daniel admitted. "Kind of…stoked."

"Yeah; me too," Jack agreed.

Behind the door stood four armed guards.

Jack brandished his sword. "You want a piece of me?" He demanded, and he and Daniel charged.

*

Sam was pacing fretfully up and down the cell, practically buzzing with tension.

"Try to relax," Nefera suggested.

"Don't tell me what…!" Sam broke off. "I'm sorry, I'm just…I don't know what I'm just, but I am."

"Your system is running on overload," Nefera explained. "The presence of a Goa'uld symbiote in a human body triggers a number of responses, including the secretion of various hormones – in particular epinephrine and other adrenal hormones."

"So this is like a massive adrenaline rush?"

"Yes. In the normal run of things, the symbiote would absorb most of the hormones, storing them for release when it needed to push the host body harder. Whatever is bringing out the Goa'uld instinct in you is also making you secrete the extra hormones, but without the symbiote to absorb them. That's why you're edgy, and why you still haven't properly felt that sock to the jaw I gave you."

Sam touched her face, where a great, purple bruise was spreading. "How hard…"

"A couple of those and Mike Tyson would have gone down. The adrenaline lets you shrug it off, but unlike a Goa'uld host, you don't have a symbiote repairing the damage."

"And the level must be increasing to remain effective," Sam realised. "Is my body going to keep on producing epinephrine indefinitely?" Sam asked.

"I have no idea," Nefera replied. "I would think so; or until it kills you anyway."

"I thought you wanted me to relax?" Sam said, panicking, her heart pounding. She could feel now that it was wrong; she was overreacting to a fear stimulus because of the constantly escalating adrenaline levels in her body.

"Sorry," Nefera said. "I didn't think. I forgot that most people fear death."

"You don't?"

"No. I don't want to die, but I'm not afraid of dying. But you should try to relax. If you know any breathing exercises or anything, that would be good."

"Because the more excited I get, the more adrenaline I produce, and the closer I get to fatal adrenaline shock or a heart attack," Sam agreed. "I know."

"You could try to sleep," Nefera suggested.

"Too hyped," Sam replied.

"Would you like me to sing for you?"

"What?" Sam guffawed.

Nefera smiled. "I've been told that my singing is quite soothing."

"Alright then," Sam agreed.

"You can tell me to shut up if you don't like it," Nefera assured her, then she began to sing.

Nefera's singing voice was high and sweet. It wasn't a strong voice, she could probably never compete with a musical accompaniment, but a cappella there was something touchingly intimate about it. The song she sang was neither in English nor in Goa'uld, and Sam could not understand the words, but it was slow and sad, yet most definitely soothing. As Nefera sang, Sam lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, feeling the incredible tension in her body begin to ease. Nefera's singing grew nearer, and Sam felt the Ashrak sit on the bed beside her, but she was not afraid. Her mind began to wander. She saw a light behind her eyelids, but could not summon the energy to see what it was, and after a few more moments, she fell asleep.

Nefera lowered her hand from before Sam's face, and idly rearranged her hair. "Sleep well, Mistress," she whispered.

*

A light brought Sam back to consciousness, and she found herself fully awake in a matter of moments, with Nefera again sitting at her side.

"They have brought us food," Nefera told her, referring to a pair of robed servants.

"Thank you," Sam said, relieved to find herself speaking politely, and in English.

The first servant bowed and backed out, but the second reached out and took Sam's hand in supplication. "You are too kind, Mistress," he said, although he could not have understood what she had said.

"Harruna?" Sam whispered.

"Forgive me," the boy begged, pressing a large key into Sam's hand. "I failed you before, I…"

"Shh," she said, before continuing in halting Goa'uld, the language coming less easily now that she was actually trying to speak it. "It's alright. There's nothing to forgive."

"I must go," he said.

"Of course. Go back to your village, Harruna, and be safe."

Harruna slipped out, and the door locked. There was a keyhole on the inside, confirming the suspicion that this was not a purpose built cell. Sam just hoped that the boy had given her the right key.

"Eat," Nefera told her. "You need your strength."

"I guess you were wrong about the room service," Sam said, as she tucked in. She discovered that she was in fact feeling incredibly hungry.

Nefera snorted. "But I ordered the lobster," she said.

"I've never seen a Goa'uld crack jokes before," Sam admitted.

"It's been known to happen," Nefera assured her. "Are you feeling better?"

"I am," Sam confirmed.

Nefera nodded. "While you rested, your hormone levels should have fallen. So long as you remain calm, you should be alright."

"I still can't feel the bruise on my cheek," Sam told her.

"Probably just numb," Nefera assured her, wary of telling Sam that she had placed her in a healing trance without permission.

"Are you hungry?" Sam asked.

"I'll be fine," Nefera assured her. "You're the one who needs the food. When you're done, we'll try to get you away from here."

"Yes," Sam agreed, distractedly. "Away."

*

"We rock!" Daniel declared, slapping Jack on the shoulder.

"We the man!" Jack agreed.

"I thought we might be done for with the swinging pendulum, though," Daniel admitted.

"Hah!" Jack scoffed. "No Edgar Allen Poe knock-off can stop SG-1. I was more worried about the poisoned darts."

"What was your favourite?" Daniel asked.

"The leopard was fun," Jack replied.

"I am glad to see you both enjoyed our little tests," Ayesha said. Jack and Daniel looked around in alarm, realising that they had returned to the same dining hall that they had originally left.

Ayesha was clad in a simple black robe, which flowed about her, covering her head to toe, with a hood concealing her face in shadows. Only her mouth was clearly visible to them, and the burning of her eyes.

"Tests?" Jack asked, incredulous. "So do we get a diploma now?"

Ayesha smiled her serpent's smile, and Daniel shivered. "I've got a bad feeling about this, Jack," he said.

"Care to be more specific?"

"Like that was just the mid-term, and now it's finals week already."

Ayesha's smile deepened. "We do not entirely understand your mode of speech," she admitted. "But if you divine that there are greater trials ahead, you are correct. Your Nefera chose well. As did your Major Samantha Carter," she assured Jack. "But it will avail them naught. You, Daniel, and you, Jack, are our champions now."

*

Sam fit the key into the lock and turned. There was a brief resistance, which gave way with a heavy clunk, and when she tried the door, it opened.

"I have to hand it to you," Nefera admitted. "Your toy-boy is quite resourceful."

"He is not, my toy-boy," Sam replied, tensely.

Nefera backed off. "My mistake," she said.

Sam shrugged, impatiently, and peeked out through the door. She saw no one in the corridor, at least as far as the next junction, forty feet away, but she could hear breathing from behind the heavy door. She motioned to Nefera, who seemed to catch her drift, and stood by her. Sam held up her hand, and counted down from three on her fingers.

They threw their weight at the door, slamming it back into the corridor wall, and taking a guard with it. A second guard stepped forward to aim a blow with his staff weapon for Sam's head, but Nefera stepped in front of her, catching the staff near to the guard's hands and stopping the blow dead. Then she snapped up her hand, striking the warrior hard in the chin, and he was thrown hard to the ground.

Sam knelt by the first guard, and snatched the zat'nik'tel from his wrist. A staff blast scorched the wall beside her, and she turned, firing at the figure who had just rounded the corner from the junction. The Jaffa fell, and Sam leaped to her feet, rage filling her as she levelled the zat for a killing blast.

"Lek tol, shol'va!" She pronounced, and squeezed the handle of the zat.

Nefera caught Sam's wrist, forcing it up so that that blast shot over Teal'c's head.

"Di'dak'dida?" Sam demanded, flushing red with anger.

"Kree ta, Major Carter," Nefera cautioned, speaking softly and calmly. "You'll thank me later," she added, in English.

Sam's anger faded a little, and she began to emerge from her chemically-induced fugue state. "He…betrayed us," she said, without conviction.

"You know he is as blameless as we are," Nefera said. "And he did not have to miss you." She smoothly relieved Sam of her weapon, then took her by the hand. "Let's go, Mistress," she said.

"Yes," Sam agreed. "We must reach the throne room."

"Throne room?" Nefera asked, confused. "We must get away from this place before it kills you."

"She has my friends," Sam growled.

Nefera relented. "Aye. To the throne room, then."

*

"I'm still a little hazy on what you need champions for," Jack asked.

Ayesha nodded, and stepped towards the two of them. She had no guards with her, but Jack did not seem to be able to summon the energy or the will to attack her. Perhaps he was delirious, or drugged – although he was sure that Hathor's drug had not affected him so strongly – but even shrouded as she was, he was quite certain that he had never in his life seen anything so transcendently lovely. In his eye, the expression of arrogant cruelty which played about her lips seemed softened, and the fire that was all he could see of her eyes only added to her appeal.

"Many centuries ago," Ayesha told them. "We came hence with our Lord and Father Kallikrates, our Lady Mother Sothis, and three companions…"

"And an army of servants and Jaffa," Daniel added.

"Quiet," Jack chided Daniel, a little surprised at himself for doing so.

Ayesha smiled benevolently at them both, and Jack felt his heart swell with love and desire for her. "For all of our arrangements, we were little prepared for the hardships of the expedition," she admitted. "The way was harder then, and one of our number was lost before we even found the Great Road of Kôr. At last however," she told them, closing her eyes as she remembered. "We came here, to the lost city of Kôr, seat of Asar's power.

"That was when the others turned on us."

"Surely not?" Jack asked, with mock incredulity. He felt bad for having done so, but it just slipped out.

Ayesha slapped Jack across the face. As before, in her throne room, the motion was casual, almost playful, but the force that struck him was enough to twist his body around, and drive him to one knee.

"We do not know what your previous mistress allowed, but we shall not tolerate insolence," she told him.

Jack's head rang, but seemed clearer. "Forgive me, mistress," he whispered, humbly, but it was mostly for show.

Ayesha pursed her lips and looked at Daniel. She walked to him, and placed a hand on his cheek. "Kneel, our servant," she said. For a moment, Daniel looked as though he might resist, but as her slap had weakened her hold on Jack, her gentle touch tightened her grip around Daniel, and he sank reverently to his knees.

"Merenebt was the first to turn, attacking Sothis as she rested. Kallikrates slew him, but then left Sothis to accompany us and our protector, Akhenra, into the catacombs, where I knew the Tomb of Asar must lie. There, Kallikrates slew Akhenra. He claimed that our guardian – Osiris' most trusted servant – had conspired with Sothis to destroy us, and that he would be our protector now, but we saw the truth. Our own father planned to kill us once we had guided him past the trials, and so we struck him down.

"With the traitor Kallikrates' blood still hot in our mouth, we entered the Tomb of Asar, and stood in the Flame of Eternity. Our host was all but destroyed, but we absorbed the power which threatened to blast her to ash, and grew strong enough to make her whole, and more than whole." At that moment, Ayesha cast off the black robe, standing before them in a simple white dress. Her raven hair was bound into a complex plait threaded with gold, her left hand wrapped in a ribbon device, but she wore – and needed – no other adornment. She was, if anything, even more beautiful than when they had first seen her, and Jack found himself literally lost for words.

"Such we were when healed," Ayesha told them, raising her arms in a gesture of triumph. "And such we have remained, with no need for the use of a sarcophagus."

"How…?" Daniel managed to croak.

"Through the power of the Tomb," she replied. "Of Asar. A power that only the mightiest lord or Queen of the Goa'uld could hope to wield." She lowered her arms, smiling on her champions. "But that power will not be complete until Asar rises to sit at my side," she said. "Hence our need for champions who might pass through the trials and prove worthy of the greatest of our kind who ever lived."

*

With a groan, Teal'c came to. His memories were hazy from the moment he first beheld Ayesha, but he remembered that he had been overcome by the compulsion to obey and protect her; a compulsion that was rising in him once more. He knew that he had shaken that influence long enough to resist blasting Major Carter, but that he might not have the strength to do so if confronted by his friends nearer to the Goa'uld Queen's influence. Much as it pained him, Teal'c realised that his only hope was to flee from Ayesha's vicinity, and seek assistance from the Amahagger.

With some difficulty, he pulled himself to his feet, his symbiote working to shake the last effects of the zat blast from his limbs. Then he gathered his staff weapon, and headed for the palace exit.

*

Sam hurried into the throne room, and began searching the dais.

Nefera followed more cautiously. "Mistress? What do you seek?"

"Anything," Sam replied. "The source of her power. I don't know what it is, but what is controlling us is not coming from Ayesha, but from the Tomb, and that means I can take that power from her."

"Mistress?"

"Or destroy it," Sam added, hastily. "Either way, it will free us, and cripple her."

Nefera nodded, not willing to question her mistress further. She took up a post, watching for approaching enemies.

"God damnit!" Sam swore. "There's nothing here. Whatever she uses to channel the power, she must keep on her. We'll have to find Ayesha."

"And do what?" Nefera demanded. "You've seen what she can do to us."

Sam turned and punched Nefera hard in the face. The Ashrak saw it coming, and knew that she was good enough to block the attack, but this was punishment from her mistress for speaking out of turn, and she let it come. Nefera tumbled hard down the dais, refusing to break her fall, her head cracking against the stone. Sam approached and stood over her.

"Forgive me, Mistress," Nefera begged.

"You are forgiven," Sam told her, reverting to Goa'uld again. "I need a weapon."

"A moment, mistress," the Ashrak replied. She rose, unsteadily to her feet, and shuffled behind a row of pillars. "I hid my pack when we first entered here," she confided. "I thought that they would not search their own hall." She emerged, and handed Sam an ribbon device.

"Well done," Sam congratulated her, stroking her face in a possessive manner that sent a nostalgic pang through Nefera's heart. The comforting feeling of being owned and controlled, of never having to make a choice, threatened to overwhelm her. The temptation to simply surrender to her training was almost too strong to resist.

"Mistress," Nefera whispered, reverently.

"Come!" Sam commanded, and she turned and swept away, leaving Nefera to follow in her wake.

*

"When we climbed the hidden stair to the Shrine of Asar, and emerged under the light, Sothis turned on us in anger," Ayesha said, still caught up in her fascination with her own life story. "She attacked us, and we blasted our mother with our power, smiting the Queen within her, and leaving the husk of her to flee in terror to die in the mountains."

"What became of your Jaffa?" Daniel asked.

"Our servants were all rewarded, those who would be loyal to us. With their strength, we cowed the tribes of the Amahagger, and they took mates among them. When the Goa'uld within them grew however, we knew that they plotted against us already, and we slew every last one of them. We realised then that we needed no prim'ta to assure the loyalty of our servants."

Daniel nodded, his gut churning at the thought of so many Jaffa being left to rot without their prim'ta. "And you've been searching for your champion since then?"

"We have sent many champions into the mine, but all have proven unworthy."

"Men like Alex Curran?"

"You know of him?"

"He made his way back to his homeland," Daniel explained. "His tale brought us here."

"Fascinating," Ayesha said. "We knew he was strong; even to emerge from the mines defeated takes exceptional courage. But we never thought he might survive." She sounded almost disappointed that he had possessed the will to live without her.

"What are the challenges?" Jack asked, impatiently.

"Eager to begin?" Ayesha asked, with a smile, and Jack realised that he had been.

"No," he lied. "Just curious."

Ayesha's smile grew more cruel. "We know that you think you are strong," she said. "That you will not do as we wish. That is why we have kept your mistresses alive. They will remain so only as long as you comply with our wishes."

"Even if we succeed, you'll kill them," Daniel accused, strain evident in his voice.

"Perhaps," Ayesha replied. "Their fate shall lie with Lord Asar, should you succeed. Should you fail, we shall smite them with our power. However, should you refuse to perform this task for us, then we shall press them to our will, and they shall take their own lives, in the slowest and most horrific manner they each can devise for themselves. If your Nefera has a fear of rats, then she shall capture them and starve them, until they turn on each other, then cast herself among them to be eaten alive." She turned from Daniel to Jack. "If your Major Samantha Carter has a dread of fire, then she shall set herself ablaze. Do you understand?"

Jack and Daniel nodded, slowly, and inside they felt their hearts twisting into conflicted knots.

*

Sam heard the voices ahead, but she ignored all but one: The voice of her enemy, her rival; the Queen who dared stand between her and power.

"Mistress," Nefera hissed. "Be careful, we should not…"

Sam shook off the Ashrak's restraining hand and ploughed forward, striding angrily into the dining hall where Ayesha was attempting to wrest control of her servants – Friends, her inner voice reminded her. They are your friends – and raised her hand to deliver a castigating blow to the presumptuous breeder. As with Nefera, she sensed something far more potent than the usual twist of nausea as she approached the Goa'uld; an impression of fierce power, barely contained by the flesh that housed it.

Ayesha waved a dismissive hand, without even looking to see who had entered at her back. That arrogance will be her downfall, Sam thought, but when she tried to summon her wrath to strike out through the ribbon device, nothing happened. Seething with rage, thinking that Nefera must have betrayed her after all, she tried to attack Ayesha hand-to-hand, but found herself rooted to the spot.

"Major Samantha Carter," Ayesha greeted her, moving around so that she could face Sam, as well as Jack and Daniel. "How good of you to join us."

"Sam," Jack said. "You can fight this; you're strong."

Stupid human! Sam wanted to cry out. Do you think I'm not fighting? Do you think your friend could defeat this when I can't. Suddenly she was afraid, more so than ever before in her life. Even when Jolinar had been controlling her body, leaving her nothing but a prisoner in her own skin, she had not been so afraid as when she realised that she had begun to think of herself as something more than human. This was no invader in her body; she was becoming a Goa'uld.

Jack started towards Ayesha.

"Stop him," the Queen commanded, calmly, and Sam turned and knocked her commanding officer down with the hand device. He tumbled backwards, and would have fallen hard to the ground if Daniel had not caught him.

Ayesha laughed, coldly. "And did you slay your companion?" She asked. "Did you turn on each other like starving dogs?" Sam felt bitterly ashamed to think that she had done just that. "We do not smell her blood on you though," Ayesha said. "So perhaps…Come out, Nefera," she ordered.

Stiffly, as though fighting every movement, Nefera emerged from the shadow of the doorway, holding her magnetic crossbow aimed at Ayesha. She looked as though she was trying very hard to pull the trigger, but was unable to do so.

"Drop your weapon," Ayesha ordered. "Now!" She snapped, furiously, as Nefera hesitated, her eyes straying to Sam as though to ask permission. Her hands shaking, she deactivated the crossbow, and set it on the ground at her feet. "Now move over beside Major Samantha Carter," she instructed. Nefera obeyed, reluctantly, and Ayesha moved to pick up the crossbow.

"Wait," Daniel begged.

"What must defiance bring?" Ayesha demanded of Sam.

"Sam, no," Daniel said.

Sam looked at Daniel, her eyes strained in concentration, but she turned to Ayesha and answered in the Goa'uld tongue: "Punishment."

Ayesha nodded once, and threw the bow to Sam. Without hesitation, she caught the weapon and fired. Daniel looked away. Magnetic coils in the sides of the bow whined softly as they propelled a trinium-tipped bolt through Nefera's thigh. She grimaced, and gave a small grunt of pain, but did not scream, and managed by sheer force of will to keep her footing. Sam's hand dropped to her side, still holding the bow.

"You are strong," Ayesha commended Nefera. "But you will live only so long as your champion serves our will."

Slowly, Daniel looked up, and saw with obvious relief that Nefera was alive.

"We need you both alive and healthy," the Queen continued, turning back to Jack and Daniel. "We only need them alive. Now, remembering the lesson that Major Samantha Carter has just taught you, are you ready to do as we command?"

"Yes," Jack said, hoarsely.

Ayesha raised an exquisitely arched eyebrow.

Jack sighed. "Yes, Mistress."

*

Teal'c found leaving the temple easier than he had expected. When he told the guards that She had sent him on an important mission, they simply allowed him to pass. Apparently, the idea that anyone was beyond her control was an alien concept to them.

Teal'c jogged down the bridge to the road, wondering who he might be able to persuade to aid him if obedience to Ayesha was so deeply ingrained. The answer came sooner than he had expected, as a voice called to him from the roadside.

"Master Teal'c," it hissed, softly.

Teal'c glanced around suspiciously.

"Master Teal'c, it is I; Harruna."

Teal'c looked over his shoulder, confirming that he was well out of the guards' sight, and ducked into the undergrowth. The youth was crouching under a bush, looking tired, hungry and afraid.

"Why are you here?" Teal'c asked.

"I was trying to think of a way to aid the Mistress," he said. "She told me to return to my village, but I have no village; I am an outcast. I gave her a key to her cell, but I fear that she has been recaptured. The guards at the gate whisper that the two strange women will be held as hostages to the two men who undertake the tests."

"I too seek to aid Major Carter," Teal'c said. "But I require assistance to do so."

"I think I might know who can help you," Harruna told him.

*

"If she deems them strong enough, Ayesha will send your friends into the mines and catacombs to face the trials of Asar," Harruna explained. "The mines extend for miles underground, and link with the city catacombs. Obviously, the route by which I led the Mis…Major Carter" – he corrected himself – "into the city will be guarded now that they know of it, but there are dozens of connections."

"And your father knows of them?"

"Some. Most importantly, he knows of the entrance to the trial grounds."

The youth was leading Teal'c up a steep escarpment, not far from the Hawk tribe's village. At the top there was a cave, completely hidden from below.

"Harruna," a man's voice called out. "Who is that with you."

"One of the strangers, father," Harruna answered.

There was a short pause. "Enter, stranger," the voice invited. Teal'c did so, ducking under the low entrance.

Inside, the cave was spacious and cosy, the floor laid with hide mats. There were two people within. One was a man of middle years, with dark skin and greying hair, and the ankh tattoo on his forehead. Years of care hung heavily on his narrow face, and his eyes were blackened and sightless. The other was a woman, only a few years younger. Her skin was fairer than her husband's, nearer the colour of an Indian, and her black hair was shot through with five silver-white streaks.

"Teal'c," Harruna said. "This is my father, Hasdrucar, and my mother, Nayasa."

"Greetings, Teal'c," the man said. "Please be seated, and enjoy what humble hospitality we have to offer.

"Thank you, Hasdrucar," Teal'c said, settling himself opposite the couple. "But my time is short. My friends have been captured by the Goa'uld Queen, Ayesha." Harruna flinched.

"Few enough there are who would dare speak that name," Hasdrucar observed. "Even if they knew it."

"I do not fear the names of false gods," Teal'c told him.

"My son has told me a little of your companions," Hasdrucar said. "You are the dark warrior, who bears a golden sign upon his brow?"

"I am."

"He said that the others were a woman of the mountains, a man with glass eyes and an elder with a warrior's step."

"Those were three of them," Teal'c agreed.

"He said that the men looked strong," Hasdrucar added. "And that was about all the sense I could get from the wretch before he flew into raptures about your golden-haired mistress. I told him that any woman of such power and beauty would soon attract the wrath of Ayesha, and he ran off to save her."

"Are you able to help us?" Teal'c asked, pointedly.

"I may be able," Hasdrucar admitted. "If your companions are strong, then she will choose them to be her champions; to face the trials and become the host to Asar if successful. Many years ago now, I was deemed strong enough to undertake this quest, and although I failed, I at least emerged from the mines alive. I can tell my son how to find the exit I used, and he can lead you to the testing grounds, so that you can bring your friends out the same way."

"What of Major Carter?" Teal'c demanded, as Nayasa approached, and handed him a cup of broth. He accepted the offering, and the woman smiled, brightly. She had a strange air about her, Teal'c realised; an almost childlike wonder that he found appealing. "Thank you," he said, and she smiled even more.

"The golden-haired one," Hasdrucar surmised, from his son's reverent sigh. "She is likely dead already. If she is not, no-one could reach her now."

"I could," Nayasa said.

Hasdrucar looked almost astonished to hear his wife speak. "It would be too dangerous," he told her.

"How could you gain access?" Teal'c asked.

It was Hasdrucar who answered him. "My wife is one of the Touched. Those who bear the mark of Asar on their brow" – he indicated her hair – "are gifted with strange knowledge. Nayasa is a healer, although she never learned it. The Touched are both revered and dreaded by the Amahagger, and permitted to go anywhere within the valley. They are forbidden access to the city, but no guard would challenge her. But Ayesha would not spare her for the mark she bears," he added, darkly. "She would be killed if she attempted any defiance."

"Then you could," Harruna implored. "None will strike at She's champion, even one who failed."

"It is too dangerous," Hasdrucar insisted.

Nayasa sat by her husband, and threaded her hand in his. "I have a plan," she told him, with a sad smile.

"Naya, please," Hasdrucar begged.

"We must help," Nayasa insisted. "You know what will happen otherwise."

Hasdrucar frowned, miserably. "We shall do what we can for them," he agreed. "But you can do nothing, Master Teal'c."

"Simply Teal'c."

"Teal'c, then; you can still do nothing. We…" He paused.

Nayasa stood, and held out her hand to her son. Obediently, Harruna stood, and allowed his mother to lead him from the cave.

Hasdrucar watched them go, before turning back to Teal'c. "We will help you as best we can," he said. "For the sake of our son."

Teal'c raised a questioning eyebrow. "Your son?" He asked, realising that his gesture would mean nothing to the blind man.

"I was the strongest, fastest and bravest man among all the Hawk tribe," Hasdrucar told him. "I was envied by men, and had my pick of women, until the day that a woman – She – picked me. After I emerged from the mines, blinded and half-mad, I was cast out as incomplete and impure, and no woman would look on me. None but Nayasa. I feared I had lost my chance to father a child, until she took pity on me. The Touched usually do not marry, but Nayasa broke that taboo, and came to live as an outcast with her outcast lover.

"When Harruna was born, the son of a blind man and a Touched woman, but without a single blemish upon him, the chief took him from us, to raise as his own. When he was ten however, before his majority and the receipt of his tattoo, Harruna learned of his parentage from his nurse and fled the village to find us.

"Now, he grows strong and clever, and I am given to understand that he is well-favoured by the young women of the tribe, for all that he is an outcast. Nayasa and I greatly fear that She will turn her eye on him when he is but a little older. I do not think that I could bear to lose him again, and I know that it would kill Naya."

"What of the other Amahagger?" Teal'c asked. "Could they help me?"

"I doubt it," Hasdrucar replied. "Perhaps they could, but they fear and worship Ayesha absolutely. I certainly couldn't help you to convince them, and nor could my wife or child. Nayasa they think is a mute simpleton; they believe this of all the Touched. As for Harri, he is an outcast like his parents, and many are jealous of him besides."

"He is a brave boy, if impetuous," Teal'c said. "I believe that he will grow to be a fine man."

"As do I, Master Teal'c," Hasdrucar agreed with a sigh. "Now perhaps we should hear my wife's plan."

*

Daniel and Jack had been led from the dining hall by Ayesha's sombre handmaidens, leaving Sam and Nefera as hostages to their good behaviour. They were instructed to bathe, and dressed in matching outfits: black leather pants and matching, loose woollen tunics.

"You look ridiculous," Jack told Daniel.

"So do you," Daniel replied.

They were led to the throne room, where Ayesha awaited with her hostages. Sam and Nefera stood at the foot of the dais, flanking Ayesha as she sat on her throne, but lower than her, although they both stood. The two women had plainly received similar treatment to Jack and Daniel's, having been washed and redressed in plain white robes, belted at the waist. The robes were looser and less flattering than Ayesha's gown, and much like those of her servants, further emphasising her superiority. Each of them held a leather belt and a sheath knife in her hands.

"You okay, Carter?" Jack asked. Sam merely glowered at him, as though it were his fault she was a captive, rather than the other way around.

With a wave of her hand, Ayesha dismissed her guards and servants, secure in her power, and with good reason. The sight of her made Jack's breath catch in his throat, and it was hard for him to think of anything else in her presence. With regal grace, she stood, walked down to Jack and Daniel and stood between them. She ran a possessive hand across each man's shoulders, the touch weakening their resistance so that when she held her hands out, they each took one, reverently and without bidding.

Sam and Nefera followed with a listless, zombie-like tread, as She led her champions back up the dais to the curtain, and through into a large antechamber. Here there was a great, clear, circular pool, set in a stone alcove, with a soft, quarter-circle couch beside it. There was a second, curtained exit, and the wall opposite the pool was covered by a hanging rug. Torches flickered in wall brackets, reflecting from the water and lighting the room in an inconstant, unsettling fashion.

"Our brave champions," she said. "What you are about to see, none but we and our chosen ones have seen in more than ten millennia." She reached up, and grasped a torch, tugging it down with a heavy clunk. The hanging rug slid away, revealing a great stone door, which swung silently inwards.

"Beyond lie the great mines of Kôr," She said. "Once you pass within, there can be no return by this route, for the doors open only from without, and you could beat upon them forever without being heard. These are the most ancient workings of Kôr, now cut off from the sunlit land above, save for this passage, and that at the end of the great road. Your way will be lit; you have only to follow the path prepared, and to overcome the challenges prepared by mighty Asar in the years long past.

"If you win through, then we shall meet you, and together we shall embrace the power of Asar. Then shall we go forth and bend this world beneath and iron fist, and make it the first of our conquests."

Jack and Daniel shared an anxious glance.

"But we do not send you forth unarmed," Ayesha assured them, and gestured behind her.

Sam stepped forward, and buckled the belt around Jack's waist, roughly pulling it a notch too tight.

"Major Samantha Carter," Ayesha cautioned, softly.

With a sneer, Sam loosened the belt, and attached the knife at Jack's right hip. She stepped back, and spat in his face. "Shol'va," she muttered, her voice angry, while traces of pain and confusion showed in her eyes. Jack was too stunned to react, but Ayesha gave a soft chuckle as she motioned to Nefera.

The Ashrak hobbled forward and slid her arms around Daniel, and held him a moment before drawing the belt around him. "Be strong, Daniel," she whispered, as she fixed the sheath to the belt. Then she pressed her mouth against his in a passionate kiss. Ayesha chuckled again, as Nefera pushed herself against Daniel, sliding a hand into his tunic. Daniel raised a hand to Nefera's face, holding her gently as he responded.

"Enough," Ayesha said, suddenly impatient. Nefera broke the kiss at once, the limp as she returned to her place at She's shoulder a telling reminder of what would happen if she dawdled. "Remember, both of you, that you do this for our glory."

Daniel restrained himself from comment. Plainly the idea that he could take interest in another woman in her presence displeased Ayesha greatly, and he did not wish for Sam or Nefera to suffer for that.

"Go down now, my champions," Ayesha commanded. "And may your strength prove worthy of Asar."

Jack and Daniel turned, and stepped into the shadows beyond the door. The darkness folded around them like a blanket as they passed the threshold, and a moment later, the door swung closed.

*

"Fine choices," Ayesha commended her captives, although perhaps not chosen for the right reasons," she added, with a sly glance at Nefera. "What was your intent?" She asked. "Did you think you might command Lord Asar when he rises? Or did you merely seek to lick the crumbs from his table?"

"She's the brains," Nefera replied. "I just came for the scenery."

Ayesha slapped Nefera across the face. The motion was gentle, but as Jack had already discovered, there was a force more than physical behind Ayesha's strength, and Nefera was lifted from her feet before dropping to the ground, hard. She felt the impact all down the right side of her body, like a low-level blast from a hand device.

"Come," Ayesha told Sam. "Sit." She gestured to the couch which curved around the edge of the pool. "You, stay there," he added, pointing to Nefera without looking.

Sam sat, watching the Queen with wary eyes.

"Let us show you a little of our power," Ayesha said, and she spread her hand over the pool. The surface of the water was perfectly still, but something moved beneath it.

Sam looked, and after a moment she realised with a start that what she saw moving was Jack and Daniel, making their way down a narrow, torch lit stairway. "How does it work?" She asked, recognising with a mixture of annoyance and relief that this was Sam Carter's question, not Jolinar's.

Ayesha sneered, plainly considering such matters beneath her. "It is unimportant," she said, speaking as though to a child. "What matters is that it permits us to see anything that occurs within our domain. When Asar rises, we shall look beyond these valley walls, and the world shall be spread beneath our feet."

"And you will be monarch of all you survey," Sam said, distractedly, still wondering what by what mechanism the seeing pool functioned.

"Yes," Ayesha agreed. "As we rule over those two now."

"Like Yertle the Turtle."

"Your chosen does not find us amusing," Ayesha purred, a deadly edge just beneath the sonorous silk of her voice.

"They will never yield to you," Sam said, defiantly.

Ayesha smiled, a kind smile, but hollow. "Silly child," she chided. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-six," Sam replied, without thinking.

"Then you are a child indeed," Ayesha scoffed, her voice still gentle but a dangerous look in her blazing eyes. "But you will learn. All humans are alike under the skin, and all of them have their price."

"So do Goa'uld," Nefera added, from her place on the floor.

"Quite so," Ayesha agreed. "Although usually far higher. But if we offer your servant wealth, power and the comforts of the flesh, he will turn on you, and strike you down in as cruel a manner as pleases us."

"Never," Sam replied, although the Goa'uld part of her mind agreed with Ayesha.

"What would your price be?" Ayesha wondered aloud. "How much pain could you stand, or how much inducement would you require, before you begged to worship us?"

"I can stand pain," Sam retorted. Defiance and angry pride rose up inside her, swamping her intellectual curiosity, and she could feel her self slipping; the sense Goa'uldness taking control again. "And we would never answer to a brood-mare," she added.

"Stand up," Ayesha said, and Sam did so. "Turn around; right around. Now abase yourself before us, slave."

Sam obeyed, puppet-like, finishing by throwing herself prostrate on the floor at Ayesha's feet. Damn it! Both parts of her mind screamed. Get up!

"You are insignificant, Major Samantha Carter," Ayesha told her. "If you were any kind of threat to us, we would have destroyed you already."

"Except that you need…" Sam paused, struggling with herself. "Me to make Jack and Daniel do what you want."

Ayesha laughed. "We have other ways of bending a man to our will," she assured Sam. "It merely pleases us to do things this way. Now. Sit, and watch; you also," she added, gesturing to Nefera. "You shall both be privileged to witness our triumph before your deaths."

*

"Well, this is nice," Daniel commented. "Positively homey in a dank, foetid kind of way."

"I guess this wasn't where the good folks of Kôr hung out of an evening," Jack agreed. Ahead of them another pair of torches flared into life, while the ones behind them flickered out.

At the bottom of there stairs was a winding path, with a rough floor, once crudely levelled, but now broken by eroded channels and fallen rock. Daniel decided that the traffic must be pretty sparse; plainly Ayesha had not been exaggerating about how few people knew that the passage even existed. To either side of the path, the cavern stretched back out of sigh, the gaping void broken by the ghostly forms of pillars and boulders, some natural, and some clearly hewn by human hand, millennia before. The torches hung on these carved pillars, beside the remains of graven faces, faded, but still bearing a timeless dignity.

"This is incredible," Daniel whispered, examining one of the faces in detail.

"This one sucks," Jack declared.

Daniel joined his friend, and saw that he was more-or-less right. The pillar that he was examining had been crudely hewn with a heavy hand, the features lacking the detail of the other carvings. "It's less eroded," he realised, running his fingers over the surface.

"So?" Jack asked.

"It's newer," Daniel explained. "Carved much more recently, maybe in imitation of the older pieces, but without such precise tools."

"But carved by who?" Jack asked.

Daniel turned to face Jack. "An indigenous tribe of ape-men," he said, with certainty.

"What makes you…? I'm going to regret it if I finish that question, aren't I?"

"You might regret it anyway," Daniel said.

Jack turned, and sure enough there were Daniel's ape-men; six of them, squatting in the shadows and watching the two humans with undisguised suspicion from under heavy brows. They were heavyset creatures, hunched and powerful-looking, with ghastly pale skin and white hair. Their eyes were huge, and almost all pupil, and they were dressed in rough tunics of furless hide. The nearest, larger than the others, and apparently a leader of some sort, wore a belt around his waist, with a sheath knife at one hip.

"What the hell are those?" Jack asked.

"I don't know," Daniel replied. "Prehistory was never my strong suit. But whatever they are, they don't seem fond of the light. Let's just keep moving, shall we?"

They walked slowly along the path, keeping an eye on the ape-men as they did so. Despite their hunched gait, the creatures moved with a surprising grace, and Daniel felt that there was a great, tragic dignity in their carriage. They reminded him of HG Wells' Morlocks, an outcast underclass of invisible labourers, and he wondered if they had served the people of Kôr, as the workers served on P3R-118.

Jack grimaced. "So does that knife look like the ones Ayesha gave us to you?"

"Yes it does."

"So at least one poor sap never made it to these catacombs," Jack reasoned. "Which I'd say makes it a fair guess that they won't stay out of the light forever."

"Just keep an eye on them," Daniel advised, sensing the soldier's tension. "I think I can see a door ahead."

Sure enough, the path came to a halt not two-hundred metres further on, at the threshold of a great iron double door. The door was carved with many lines of hieroglyphs, and it had no handle. Daniel paused, aware of an air of expectation among the Morlocks.

"Best grab a torch," Daniel said. "I'll need to read the markings to open the door and…"

"Hell with that," Jack declared. He charged forward, and shoved against the centre of the double doors as hard as he could. They would not budge.

"Jack!" Daniel called out, alarmed. Apparently, the doorstep was not only too dark for reading, it was dark enough for the light-hating ape-men to tolerate, and they leaped forward with a chorus of angry cries.

Jack turned, drawing his knife, and slashed open the first arm that reached for him. He lashed out, cutting deep into the pale flesh of his foes. Hands clutched at him, threatening to overwhelm him, but as suddenly as they had attacked, they were gone, and he was bathed in a golden light.

"Back!" Daniel yelled, waving the torch at a straggling Morlock. The ghost-pale hominids retreated from the flame and the light, leaving only one of their number, his throat slashed open by Jack's knife. Jack lashed out at a straggler, but Daniel grabbed his wrist.

"Let them go," Daniel said. They won't enter the light. Jack scowled, but lowered his arm, and cleaned and sheathed the knife. Satisfied, Daniel turned and examined the doors.

"Do we need to wait for you to translate the whole thing and tell me a story about a man going shopping?" Jack asked.

"No; just these," Daniel assured him, pointing to a cartouche at the outer edge of each door.

"What do they say?"

Daniel pushed on one, and the door swung open; it was hinged at the middle, where the two doors met. "It says: 'open this side'," Daniel told Jack, smugly.

"I'd have got there in the end," Jack grumbled, following Daniel through. As the light passed through the doors, the Morlocks moved forward again, Jack drew his knife, but Daniel caught him by the wrist again.

"No!" Daniel said. "Look."

Jack watched, and saw the leader come forward and gently touch the fallen Morlock's face. He made a low, gravelly sound in his throat, and gently closed the eyes of his dead compatriot. Moving cautiously, the other Morlocks came up, and each in turn touched the dead one's face. Then four of the largest slid their arms under the shoulders and hips of the body, and lifted it into the air.

The Morlocks left, with great solemnity.

"What the hell was that?" Jack asked. "A monkey funeral?"

"They're intelligent, Jack," Daniel told him. "They have a language, and a culture. Plainly they also practise some manner of funereal rite; maybe ritual burial, cremation or cannibalism."

"Cannibalism?"

"To take the strength of the fallen back into the tribe," Daniel explained.

"You call that a culture?" Jack asked. "Never mind," he added, before Daniel could get going again. "So what were they?"

Daniel shrugged. "As I said, I'm not a prehistorian, but I'd guess that they were a form of Neanderthal or other hominid, fairly close to modern humans once, but adapted to subterranean living in an area with little light."

"No light, more like," Jack said.

"No," Daniel disagreed. "They had huge eyes. If there was no light, their sight organs would have atrophied." He swung the iron door closed. "I guess we'll never really know."

"You think they'll come after us?"

"I doubt it. As soon as we passed the door, it was as though we ceased to exist. Their universe ends at this threshold. To them, we're as dead as that poor guy whose throat you slit."

"Hey!" Jack took umbrage. "He attacked me, remember."

"Well if you'd waited, no-one would have had to die. You know, maybe one of these days you'll actually stop and consider the consequences of your actions before you decide to start hitting someone; I think it's one of the signs of the Apocalypse," he added, bitterly.

"Ouch," Jack said, as Daniel stalked off ahead of him, the torches again flaring up at his approach.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Daniel said, with a sigh. "That was a little harsh. I guess I'm just tense."

*

After a while – Jack was not sure how long, but not more than an hour, he thought – Daniel put out a hand to stop him.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"Trap," Daniel replied.

"How do you know?"

Daniel pointed to an inscription on the flagstone in front of them. "Trap," he translated. They went around the flagstone. "Even if you'd made it past the ape-men, you'd have died there," Daniel could not resist pointing out.

"Hey; if it wasn't for me, you'd have died years ago, Poindexter!" Jack snapped. "You really think you're god enough to make it through this?" He demanded. "You really think you're good enough for…" He stopped, confused.

"What?" Daniel demanded.

Jack looked baffled. "I was really about to tell you that you weren't good enough for that psycho-bitch Ayesha," Jack said, with disbelief.

"Makes sense," Daniel said, nodding.

"It does?"

"Yes," Daniel replied. "I mean, when was the last time I called you stupid?"

"Last week," Daniel replied. "When I dropped that urn you were so…"

"All right," Daniel snapped. "But when was the last time I called you stupid and really meant it?"

"Weekend before…"

"Jack!"

"Sorry. This place is getting to me though. It's like I have this burning need to beat you, because I have to win." He grimaced. "Even if I don't actually want the prize. I haven't felt like this since…There was this one time, when I was younger, I got into a fight with this other kid over a girl. Only thing was, I didn't even like the girl that much; she was just using me to make her boyfriend jealous. But once he'd thrown down, it was like I had to prove the point. Same thing happened a couple of years later, and I walked away, but then…"

Daniel nodded. "Testosterone poisoning," he said, sagely. "Testosterone is the mind-killer. The little death that leads to total obliteration. It must be the Tomb; at this range even normal humans are affected, and it's messing with our hormone levels. Our resistance is probably still down from whatever other drugs she's using on us as well."

"You don't think…?" Jack began.

"What?"

"You don't think those guys out there were other champions once? We're not going to turn into cave men? Again."

"Speak for yourself. For what it's worth, I doubt it," he promised. "We're more likely to turn into…overgrown teenagers."

"Good God, no!"

"Not that the difference will be so telling in some people," Daniel muttered.

"Hey!" Jack called after him.

*

"They are doing well," Ayesha said. "Your Daniel seems especially astute," she told Nefera. "While Jack is deliciously brutal."

Sam scowled, but Ayesha had ordered her to be silent a short time ago, and the injunction still held her. In the pool, she saw her friends bickering and sniping at each other. Periodically they would catch themselves doing it and stop, but then they would simply begin again. Part of her hated to watch this because her friends were suffering, while another part hated it because they were suffering for someone else's sake and not for hers.

A commotion from the throne room distracted Sam, and one of Ayesha's guards plunged through into the antechamber, falling flat on his face as he did so.

"How dare you?" Ayesha demanded, standing and turning in a graceful, fluid motion. She flexed her left hand, sheathed in its ribbon device.

"Please, Mistress, I bring urgent news."

Ayesha paused for a moment, and when the guard did not continue, snapped: "Well? Be swift, mortal; our patience is limited."

"Great Mistress,  O She-Who-Is-Obeyed…"

"I said be swift," Ayesha purred.

"Forgive…There is a man of the Amahagger beyond the gates," the guard said. "A madman. He speaks out against you, calling you a false goddess and a pretender."

"And why is he not dead?" Ayesha asked.

"Because…He is your former champion, Mistress. He is Hasdrucar, chosen by She-Who-Is-Obeyed, and forever inviolate."

Ayesha gave a grunt of frustration, and stamped her foot like an angry child. The guard cried out once, as his collarbone shattered beneath Ayesha's heel, but her second stamp snapped his neck, and he was silent.

"Haven't you ever heard that it's wrong to shoot the messenger?" Nefera asked.

The blow which Ayesha struck the Ashrak was not like the others. This was no playful slap, but a full-blooded, backhand punch, which sent Nefera crashing into the wall with bone-shattering force. Sam winced in sympathy.

Ayesha turned to Sam. "If you have any affection for your companion; teach her some manners while I am gone. Neither of you may leave this room," she added, then turned and swept majestically out.

As soon as she was out of sight, Sam slumped, feeling a great pressure lift from her limbs. She sprang to her feet, and ran to the door, but found it blocked by some unseen force.

"Damnit!" Sam screamed.

"Mistress," Nefera called, softly, pushing herself slowly to her feet.

"That bitch has trapped us in here with a forcefield."

"It's not a forcefield," Nefera told her. "It's just her will. We can't leave the room because she told us not to."

"How can she do this to us?" Sam demanded, not entirely sure if she meant herself and Nefera, or just the royal 'us'.

"Something to do with the Tomb," Nefera supposed. "Clearly its power is somehow channelled through her."

"Hence her eyes burn all the time," Sam agreed.

"And she is so strong," Nefera added.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked, concern for the other woman gaining her a temporary advantage over her Goa'uld-self.

"I know how to take a tumble," Nefera assured her. "I'm not saying I'm exactly fighting fit, but I'll recover. I think I'm healing faster than normal," she added.

"Probably another side-effect of the Tomb," Sam said. "But that's good, surely."

"Not necessarily," Nefera replied. "If it works for me, it probably works twice as much for Ayesha, who's channelling the concentrated power of the Tomb through the naquadah in her blood. Even if I'd been able to shoot her in the dining hall, it might not have killed her."

"And why didn't you shoot her?" Sam demanded, harshly. "Even if it didn't kill her it might have given us an edge."

"I tried," Nefera said. "But I couldn't pull the trigger. Her will protects her…"

"As an assassin, you're not much good, are you?"

Nefera dropped her gaze to her feet, then knelt in front of Sam. "Forgive me," she begged, grabbing Sam's hand and pressing it to her head.

Sam leaped back as if burned, although Nefera's gesture gave her a pleasant feeling of power. "Stop that!" She insisted. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, but…"

"I'm sorry," Nefera replied. "You're not exactly seeing me at my best," she added, in a quavering voice.

She's afraid of me, Sam realised. She's a seven hundred year old assassin, and she's afraid of me. Once more, this thought caused conflicting feelings of nausea and triumph. "How can you do it?" Sam asked. "How can you take this kind of crap? From me or from her?"

"It's what I was taught," Nefera replied. "It's how I've lived most of my life. It was only when I began masquerading as a human on Earth that anyone treated me with any kind of respect." She gave a nervous laugh. "The last thing a Goa'uld wants is an uppity assassin deciding she doesn't want to obey him anymore."

Sam was not sure what to say. On the one hand, she could not feel too much sympathy for an Ashrak; on the other, she disliked being a source of this kind of fear. "You just stood there and let me punch you in the face. I shot you, and you did nothing."

"To resist your chastisement would show disrespect for my Mistress," Nefera explained, as though quoting from a training manual. "To show pain, fear or any other weakness before your foes would be to dishonour my Mistress."

"What about smart-mouthing the sociopathic bitch?" Sam had to ask.

"Goa'uld are like hyenas," Nefera said. "They attack the weak. She wants to single one of us out for the greater share of her abuse, and I'm making sure that's me."

"Why?"

"Because I am thine Ashrak."

Sam sat down on the couch, brooding. The idea of having someone prepared to die at her slightest command was disturbing to say the least.

"What's that?" Nefera asked.

Sam looked down, and saw that she had been toying with a pendant that hung around her neck. "Oh, this? It's the naquadah pendant Daniel found in the Curran collection. Sometimes these things turn out to be keys, and…" She sighed. "Okay; so I'm not allowed to wear my dog-tags for unauthorised invasions, and I'm kind of used to the weight."

"I know what you mean," Nefera said. "You shouldn't let Ayesha see that though. It's an image of Sothis," she explained, prompted by the raising of Sam's eyebrow. "Ayesha might well carry a grudge."

"After all this time?"

"Goa'uld feuds tend towards the epic," Nefera told her.

Sam nodded, and tucked the amulet away.

"Did anyone else see you carrying that?" Nefera asked.

"I don't think so," Sam replied. "Although to be honest, I…"

She broke off as the curtain was pushed aside, and a woman came in. She was in middle age, her face aged by sun and sorrow, with long white streaks in her black hair. She gasped, and recoiled from the body of the guard, but swallowed hard and came over to bow before Sam.

"Mistress Major Carter," she greeted her.

"Who are you?" Sam demanded, with an unintended edge to her voice.

"Nayasa," the woman replied. "The Touched."

"Touched?"

Nayasa nodded. "I bear the mark of Asar," she explained, tilting forward and parting her dark hair, so that Sam could make out the pale impression of a hand upon her scalp, from which her white hair grew. "And my head is filled with knowledge unlearned."

"Human genetic memory," Sam realised, awed.

"Your friend, Teal'c sent me. I have come to take you from here," Nayasa said, urgently. "She will return soon; we must go."

"We can not," Nefera told her.

"We can't pass the door," Sam added.

Nayasa's face fell. "But this is terrible! What should I do? I promised to help you, but I must leave quickly. The Touched are not permitted into the city," she explained. "The guards will not stop me, but there shall be trouble if I am caught by She. My boy…poor Harruna."

"You are Harruna's mother?" Sam asked.

"I am. He brought Teal'c to us for help."

"Go now," Sam instructed. "Have you any way to contact Teal'c."

"He gave me this," Nayasa replied, holding up a field radio.

Sam snatched the device from Nayasa's hand. "Thank you, Nayasa," she said. Nayasa dithered. "It's alright," Sam assured her. "I was going to give you a message for Teal'c, but now I can contact him myself. You go back now, and don't trouble yourself about me."

"Yes, Mistress Major Carter," Nayasa replied, obviously still concerned.

"You have done me a great service," Sam assured her. "You and your son. He is a brave and cunning boy; you should be proud of him."

Nayasa beamed, and it was clear that she was proud of her son.

*

Creeping across the rocks towards the mines, Teal'c was startled by a squawk from his field radio.

"Teal'c. Come in, Teal'c."

"Major Carter; it is good to hear your voice. I apologise for shooting at you."

"I apologise for hitting you," Sam assured him. "Look, your message got here, but we can't leave the room we're in so long as Ayesha is alive; the Tomb gives her too much power. What are you up to?"

"Harruna and I are attempting to gain access to the testing ground through the mines, in order to assist Daniel Jackson and Colonel O'Neill."

"Be careful. The Tomb's influence seems to be pretty strong down there. Also, she has a device for watching what goes on in her realm. Stay about ten yards from Colonel O'Neill and Daniel and you should be out of the shot."

"I will endeavour to do so," Teal'c agreed. Thank you Major Carter."

"Be careful down there. There's traps and other such fun; and a tribe of Neanderthals to boot."

"I will take every precaution."

"And Teal'c," Sam added. "Look after Harruna."

"I shall," Teal'c assured her.

"Carter out."

"She really asked about me?" Harruna couldn't quite believe it. "She asked you to look after me?"

"She did," Teal'c replied, giving the reverent youth a look of considerable concern. "Major Carter is a woman of exceptional courage and strength, but she is not a goddess," he said. As they entered the caves, Teal'c took out his flashlight, left-handed, resting his staff weapon across his forearm.

"I…I know that," Harruna said, but without great conviction.

"Why are you so determined to help her?" Teal'c asked. He did not like to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he was even less keen to work with a person whose motives were unsound. If Harruna was looking for a goddess, there was a high risk that he would betray them to Ayesha; who would be more than happy to play that role.

"There is a legend, of Ayesha's arrival in the valley," Harruna explained. "It is said that she came with others, one of whom was Amenartas, the priestess of Sothis." As he spoke that name, Harruna's voice dropped to a whisper. "Mother told me the story when I was a child, of how Ayesha turned on her own, and slew them, and only Amenartas remained to flee across the lands of the Vulture tribe, who still venerate an image of Sothis in secret, praying for her to come and challenge her enemy again.

"When I beheld the Mistress, and I saw that she carried the sign of Sothis about her neck, I thought that she must be Amenartas. I feared that Ayesha would strike her down again, but she seemed so strong, and I came to hope that she might defeat Ayesha, and avenge my father's humiliation."

"Major Carter is not Amenartas," Teal'c told Harruna.

"I know this now," Harruna replied. "But still…"

"But still?"

"Is she not the most captivating woman in all the world?" Harruna asked, breathlessly. "When she is nearby, I can hardly think straight. Truly, Teal'c, I have never seen such beauty."

Teal'c shook his head, sadly.

"You need not worry," Harruna said. "I understand that I have no chance with someone like that. But just to see her smile…"

Teal'c suddenly raised his staff weapon.

"No!" Harruna cried, throwing out his hands to protect himself, but Teal'c did not fire. The flashlight beam shone past Harruna's shoulder, and a commotion erupted behind him. He turned, and saw a group of the Morlocks retreating into the shadows, frightened by the light.

"Who are they?" Teal'c asked.

"They are the ghosts of Kôr," Harruna whispered, terrified. "The spirits of those who have died down here, forced to serve as guardians of the catacombs for all eternity. But why are they so far out?"

"These are no ghosts," Teal'c said. "They are flesh and blood. Look." He pointed to a pale shape lying very still on the ground. Harruna gasped. Teal'c took the boy's arm, and drew him away from the Morlocks. Warily, the pale creatures came down from their hiding places, and gathered around their fallen comrade. Then, in deep, sombre voices, they began to sing.

Whether there were words to the song that Teal'c did not understand, or whether it was a form of tonal chant, Teal'c was never able to say. Whatever the meaning of their dirge, something in the mournful voices of the ape-people of Kôr moved Teal'c, and after a few minutes, he joined his voice to theirs, taking his tune from them, and adding the words of a traditional Chulakan threnody for a fallen warrior.

He completed about seven rounds – perhaps a total of thirty minutes – of the song, before the Morlocks began to move. One by one, each took up a large rock from the floor of the mine, and laid it on top of the body, forming a low cairn. When the cairn was complete, each Morlock laid a final stone in a ring around the base, before fading back into the darkness, still chanting. Finally, when only two remained – an elderly male and a younger female – the male beckoned to Teal'c, and gestured at the cairn.

Reverently, Teal'c lifted a stone, and set it at the base of the cairn. The elder nodded his approval, and Teal'c stepped back. As the elder began to lift his own tribute, Teal'c touched the awe-struck Harruna on the arm, and led him away from the scene. He glanced back once, to see the female stand alone, laying a final stone atop the cairn. She looked up as they left, her huge eyes seeming to rest on Harruna for a long time, before she followed her people and vanished into the shadows.

"They say that the ghosts eat human flesh," Harruna said. "They say that they spare none whom they can catch. You must be…"

"I am no god," Teal'c told Harruna, firmly. "But Daniel Jackson has always told me that almost any confrontation can be resolved peacefully if you attempt to understand it from the perspective of your antagonists. We interrupted a funeral, and invaded their burial grounds." He gestured around them, and Harruna noticed for the first time that they were surrounded by dozens of the low cairn mounds. "By showing respect for their dead, I hope that I convinced them that we meant them no harm or disrespect."

"He must be a wise man, Daniel Jackson," Harruna said.

"The wisest that I know," Teal'c agreed.

*

"You…snob!" Daniel accused.

"Me? You're the snob, Mr. 'I've got a doctorate, I'm better than you'."

"Two doctorates," Daniel snorted, angrily. "And like you don't look down on me because I'm a civilian."

"Hey; I try damn hard to put up with you. I've defended you!"

"Oh, yeah: 'It's not his fault, he's just a civilian'; 'oh, don't mind Daniel, he's not used to the military life'."

"When did I ever say that?"

"You…looked it!"

"What?!"

*

Hasdrucar stood amid a growing crowd of Amahagger. He had been denouncing Ayesha's tyrannous rule all the way from his home, gathering a crowd, first of Hawks, then of Vipers, and adding a number of curious Wolves before reaching the territory of the Goat tribe on the lower slopes of the Kôr Mountain. Now he stood at the foot of the great bridge, addressing a crowd of maybe seventy-or-eighty Amahagger of at least those four tribes. Of course, he could not be sure of their affiliation, but from the sound he could guess at the numbers.

"All of the Amahagger are slaves!" He cried. "We fight one another, saying 'we are strongest, no other shall rule us', but obey She without question!"

"She has the power to destroy us all," one of the crowd called out. "She is a goddess, far beyond us. She has always ruled the Amahagger."

"No, she has not," Hasdrucar replied. "Nor does she know all of the secrets of the Mountain. She is an interloper here, stealing the power created by our ancestors!"

"What power did our ancestors have?" One of the Goats asked.

"The power of life and death itself," Hasdrucar told them. "Listen," he began, but they never got a chance. At that moment, a flash of energy struck the blind man in the back. It exploded from his shoulder, the force of the staff blast twisting his body around, and toppling him unceremoniously from the bridge.

If you want something done properly, Ayesha thought to herself, as she handed the staff weapon back to the guard at the palace entrance. The man looked appalled, clearly wrestling with the cognitive dissonance caused by seeing She destroy a man protected by her own decree.

"Nooo!"

Ayesha turned at the cry of desperate pain, and saw a woman hurtling towards her with a knife in her hand. With lazy grace Ayesha snapped out a foot at the crazed woman's throat. Her attacker stopped dead, all momentum sapped by the sheer force of Ayesha's blow. She croaked and gasped, trying to force enough breath through her pulverised windpipe to form words. Ayesha reached out, caught the woman by the hair, and sent her flying with a flick of her wrist.

The would-be assassin whirled away like a top, and stepped into the open air beside the bridge. Without even the breath to scream, she fell in eerie silence, piebald hair flying out above her. She struck the mountainside with a horrid, soft crunch, then bounced and slid to rest, leaving a grisly trail behind her.

Ayesha sighed, contentedly. It had been such a long time since she had been given a chance to do anything so satisfying.

Below, the crowd began to mutter, horrified by what they had just seen.

"Yes, white hair," one woman, from the Wolf tribe, whispered. "I saw it too."

A man of the Goat tribe nodded. "She was Touched; one of the chosen of Asar."

"She should not have killed one of the Touched," a young Viper opined, and there was an angry murmur of agreement.

Ayesha heard the buzz of discontent, and it enraged her, quite spoiling her good mood. She pursed her lips, and turned to the guard, who looked even more appalled now. "Tell the crowd to go home, and forget the lies that they have heard here," she told him. Orders would help him to forget the contradiction.

"Yes, Mistress," the guard said, sounding shaken.

"If any remain when the sun is at its zenith, kill them. Then return them to their villages, have them identified, and burn down their homes, with their families inside."

"Mistress…?"

"If anyone raises a hand to stop you," Ayesha went on, furious that even her soldiers seemed to be answering back today. "You will burn down their entire village, and shoot anyone who attempts to leave. When this is done, you will organise a search, and put every single one of the Touched to death," she added. The guard blanched.

She turned and looked down on the crowd, which was beginning to turn nasty. "We do not need to tell you to shoot anyone who speaks against us when you seek to disperse the crowd, do we?"

"No, Mistress."

"Good. Then carry on."

She watched as the guard led eight of his fellows down the bridge, but turned away and stalked indoors before they reached the bottom. Ordinarily, she would have welcomed a chance to watch her warriors brutalise the tribesfolk, but their defiance was making her feel ill, and she was in no mood for light entertainment.

*

Sam paced up and down, distractedly.

"Mistress!" Nefera gasped. The Ashrak was staring into the pool, so Sam moved over and joined her.

Jack and Daniel had arrived in a truly massive chamber, most of which had no floor. Instead, a vast abyss gaped beneath a narrow bridge of rock. There was no barrier or parapet on the bridge, only a simple beam of stone, maybe nine feet across. Sam felt a wave of nauseous vertigo just seeing it in the pool. It was not this however that had alarmed Nefera. Rather, it was the sight of Daniel letting Jack draw slightly ahead, then leaping on his back with a scream of incoherent rage. Jack cried out in alarm, but flipped Daniel easily over his shoulder.

"Well; things have become more interesting."

Sam and Nefera turned in surprise, not having heard Ayesha enter. "Stop them?" Sam pleaded.

Ayesha smiled, indulgently. "We think not. We find that this level of competition shows the proper spirit for the future host of Asar, don't you? Besides, are you not proud of your champion?"

Sam turned back to the pool, and saw that Jack was proving to be the stronger of the two. No surprise there; Sam knew that Jack was a better hand fighter than she, while she was far stronger than Daniel. The archaeologist's technique was good, and he was almost unrecognisable as the combat novice who had first joined the Stargate programme, but his approach to battlefield martial arts was pretty much the same as his attitude to firearms training; it had simply never been a priority, and now he was suffering for that. At least neither of them had drawn their knife yet.

"He is strong," Ayesha commended Sam. "A superb choice."

Sam felt a glow of pride, but her heart was in anguish, knowing that one of her three best friends in the world was about to kill one of the others.

*

"What's the matter, Danny? Not enjoying your workout?"

"You arrogant son of a bitch," Daniel gasped, wiping blood from his mouth. "If you kill me, I'm going to die enjoying the knowledge that the next trap is going to send you to join me."

"Yeah?" Jack retorted. "Great. Then I can carry on beating the crap out of you in hell!"

They were out on the bridge now, Jack forcing Daniel to the retreat, and trying to crowd him over to one side of the narrow stone path. He was pushing him towards the right – well, Jack's right – where the stone seemed smoother than on the opposite edge, and Daniel was not sure he could keep his footing if he went too far out.

Daniel froze in fear as a terrible wail filled his ears. At first he thought he must have taken a worse blow to the side of the head than he had realised, but then he saw that Jack was looking uncertainly in the direction of the noise. It was coming from the darkness to Daniel's left, somewhere below them, in the abyss. Daniel's eyes widened, as he realised what the sound was. He had heard something like it once before, during a dig in the canyon-city of Petra.

"What the hell is…?" Jack began, as Daniel threw himself down and hugged the stone.

A gust of wind, funnelled through some shadow-hidden channel, ripped out of the darkness and tore across the bridge. Grit lashed at Jack's face, making his skin sting and his eyes water. He wrapped his hands around his head, and leaned against the wind to keep from being knocked off the bridge.

As suddenly as it had come, the wind stopped, and Jack overbalanced. With some difficulty, he kept his feet on the stone where the wind had worn it smooth down through the centuries, but then Daniel charged him and knocked him head-over-heels backwards. Jack rolled, and tried to come back to his feet, but there was suddenly nothing to stand on, and he fell, barely catching himself on the edge of the bridge. Luckily, Daniel's rush had carried him away from the windward edge, and the rough surface of the stone gave him plenty of purchase.

Unfortunately, Daniel was now standing over him, and lifting his foot to stamp down on Jack's fingers.

*

Ayesha clapped her hands, and laughed in almost girlish delight – a terrifying sound when superposed with the Goa'uld's sonorous undertones. "We may have underestimated Daniel Jackson," she admitted. "It seems that he is not without his ruthless side."

Sam struggled with the forces tearing at her will: The Goa'uld instincts in her blood; Ayesha's imposed authority; and the terrible pain of watching her friends fight. Finally, she could stand it no longer, and lacking any constructive options, she could only give vent to her frustration.

"No!" She screamed, as Daniel raised his foot.

And Daniel looked up at her.

He can hear me, Sam realised. "Daniel, don't…!" She began, before Ayesha's hand struck her to the ground.

"Mistress!" Nefera called, alarmed.

"Silence!" Ayesha commanded, harshly. Nefera struggled, but was unable to resist the compulsion. "And you," she hissed, turning her burning glower on Sam. "Will suffer for your impudence." She held out her right hand – surprising Sam, who had expected her to use the ribbon device – and gave a brief, sinuous gesture. "Major Samantha Carter," she whispered, her voice ice cold yet deeply intimate, her lips twisting into a smile of sweet malevolence. "Hear our command: Pain!"

For a moment, Sam wondered what Ayesha was trying to do, but then her body was wracked with pain. She felt as though her muscles were trying to pull her bones in all directions at once, twisting her body and tearing her flesh from within. She screamed aloud, and her back arched in agony.

Nefera's hand trembled, as it began to move ever so slowly towards the belt of her robe.

"Watch the pool," Ayesha whispered, without turning, and Nefera was forced to turn from the sight of Sam's suffering, with pain in her own eyes.

*

Daniel stepped back from the brink, with Sam's voice ringing in his ears. "Jack. Did you hear…?"

"Sam," Jack replied, still hanging by one arm from the bridge. "I thought I did."

The wind howled, deep in the abyss, and above it Daniel heard another sound: Sam, screaming in pain.

"Ah…Daniel?"

Shaking himself out of his confusion, Daniel reached down. Jack swung his free arm up for Daniel to grab, and with a joint effort, Jack was hauled to safety. Of course, safety was a relative term in Asar's testing grounds, and the two of them were forced to press against the stone in the face of another terrible blast of grit-bearing wind.

"Oh god," Daniel whispered, as the wind died away. "I can still hear her screaming."

"Do you think there's a way up?" Jack asked.

"I don't know," Daniel replied, petulantly. "She's the one who'd know. Sam."

"Do you think they can hear us?"

"Over that?" Daniel scoffed.

Jack bristled at his superior tone. "Hey! You want me to put you down again?" He asked.

"Who put who down?" Daniel demanded, feeling his adrenaline rising again. He shook his head to try and clear it.

*

Sam slumped to the floor of Ayesha's antechamber, breathing hard. Her whole body ached, and her throat was raw. She was fairly certain that she had felt worse, but not often or recently.

"What…?" She gasped.

"We did nothing to you," Ayesha assured her, sounding short of breath herself. Sam raised her eyes to look at the Goa'uld, and realised that it was not exertion making Ayesha breathless; it was excitement. "You did it to yourself. Do you understand now the true extent of our power?"

"Yes," Sam replied. Ayesha raised her hand in threat. "Yes…Mistress," she whispered. I will take that power from you, she promised, silently. Then we'll see how strong you really are.

"Good. Your companion may have a loose tongue, but she was quicker than you to learn the correct form of address."

Sam tried to clear her head. She was fairly certain that when Nefera called out 'Mistress', it had been to her, not to Ayesha, but despite the vicious leanings welling up in her, she felt no need to give their sadistic captor any greater excuse to torment the Ashrak.

"No," Nefera moaned, leaning over the pool and reaching her hand towards the water.

"Keep back!" Ayesha ordered, causing the younger Goa'uld to spring away from the pool so fast that she tripped on the couch and fell hard on her back. Sam was surprised to see such awkwardness from the woman, but Ayesha smiled, amused, as she moved to the pool. "Ah," she said. "It seems that the balance has tipped again," she said. "Once and for all."

A chill ran up Sam's spine, and she struggled to rise. Nefera scrambled quickly to her feet, and helped Sam up, half-carrying her to the couch. Sam's gut tied into a knot inside her.

In the viewing pool, Jack stood on the bridge. Daniel lay still. Very still.

"God, no," Sam whispered.

Ayesha frowned. "A curious weakness, to care so much for a slave," she said. Then she smiled, and Sam knew from the overwhelming joy that she radiated, that someone was about to suffer. "We suppose that we need only one hostage now."

*

Hasdrucar drifted back to consciousness with small, nimble hands touching his wound.

"Who's there?" He demanded, reaching out. His hand found an arm, and followed it to a shoulder, and then to a face. A girl, he thought; young, and frightened. "Who are you? What are you doing?"

"I am Sayaka, of the Vulture tribe," she replied, in a whisper. "I am binding your wound. We must be quiet. The warriors of She have ordered everyone to go home, but my father Matayu asked that I stay and help you if I could. He asked me because I'm sneaky," she added, proudly.

"Matayu?" Hasdrucar asked, in a soft voice. "Matayu with the scar on his face?"

"That is correct. You know him?"

"I gave him that scar," Hasdrucar said. "I defeated him in combat to earn the right to be Ayesha's champion. I thought for certain that She would have had him killed after I defeated him."

"He lived but was thought dead," Sayaka explained, tying off his bandage. "They left him on the mountainside but he had the strength to crawl to shelter."

"And he asked you to aid me? Then perhaps I have reached a few people after all."

"It was her," Sayaka said. "We were all so shocked when She struck you down, her chosen; and then when She killed the Touched…"

Hasdrucar's heart sank, and he felt as though the world was falling away around him. "The Touched?" He asked, his voice thick with emotion.

The girl explained to Hasdrucar what had happened, but he hardly heard. He already knew that it was Nayasa who had attacked Ayesha, and that she was dead, but even hearing Sayaka's small, sad voice confirming it, did not seem to make it feel real. He could simply not believe that she was gone; Nayasa, the light of his shadow-life. He felt hollow, as though everything that made him a man – that made him more than a mere shell of flesh and bone – had been ripped out of him.

"Where?" He asked, desolate.

"She is nearer to the base of the mountain," Sayaka replied.

"Take me there."

"But, Sir; she is…"

"She is my wife!" He hissed, voice cracking with grief.

"It is…it is this way," Sayaka told him, taking him by the hand.

Most of the Amahagger who had listened to Hasdrucar speak had retreated to the Wolf tribe's village when the guards dispersed them. They had no wish to invite She's wrath when she was so obviously enraged, and so despite their anger over the death of one of Asar's Touched they had melted away from the bridge.

"It is not right," a passionate young Viper hunter named Terrua was saying. He was the first to have voiced the opinion that even She should not have killed one of the Touched, and he was setting his spear, as the saying went.

"She is a goddess," Kara of the Wolf tribe insisted. She had not gone to listen to the madman, although her daughter, Nema had, in defiance of parental edict. "She is above our law."

"Not that law," Nema replied. A timid young woman by nature, she had returned from the mountain with a new fire in her eyes. "Aren't we taught that Asar is the highest law? And did not Asar himself command that the Touched never be harmed, nor molested?"

"Even so," Eymar – a Hawk – interjected. "She is divine, and we could not bring her to justice, even if we had the right."

"We have both the right and the power."

They all turned, and they saw Hasdrucar. Despite the wound in his shoulder, he held the limp and bloody corpse of his wife cradled in his arms. She was almost unrecognisable for the damage that had been done to her, but plain for all to see were the streaks of white – now half-stained red – in her black hair. Sayaka stood at the blind man's side, holding his tunic to guide him.

"This was not just one of the Touched," Hasdrucar said. "Her name was Nayasa. She was my wife, and the mother of my son. You should all know that before I say anything more, because I want you to know that this is personal for me now.

"Twenty years ago, I and Matayu of the Vulture tribe were chosen to compete for the right to be Ayesha's champion."

"You must not speak the name of She!" Kara gasped.

"She is no goddess," Hasdrucar said. "After I was chosen, Ayesha kept me with her for a time; for her entertainment. In that time, I saw something. I saw her cut her hand, and bleed."

The assembled listeners gasped in amazement.

"She is strong," Hasdrucar admitted. "But she is mortal. And she is fallible. Ask Matayu, whose death she ordered."

"What would you have us do then?" Eymar demanded.

Hasdrucar fixed the man with his scorched and sightless eyes, and answered in a low, deadly hiss: "Destroy her."

*

Harruna led Teal'c into the mines, until they came to a narrow crack in the rock.

"This is where my father came out of the testing ground and into the mines; he was found wandering at the mouth of the mines by the Goat tribe. After I found my way back to my real parents, father told me to find my way around the mines, but I have never been deep enough to come here before."

"If your father was blind, how did he find his way out of the testing ground?" Teal'c asked.

Harruna shrugged. "That I do not know. He says that someone showed him the way, but he was blind and delirious and does not know who."

Harruna slipped nimbly through the crack, and Teal'c followed. The heavy-set Jaffa found the passage rather more problematic than the youth did, but with a little twisting and straining, he forced his body through. He held up his flashlight and shone it around the room in which he found himself.

"Welcome to the catacombs of Kôr," Harruna said.

"Who were these?" Teal'c asked, casting the flashlight beam up and down the long gallery, illuminating a row of recumbent bodies, one after another. They lay peacefully, their dark-skinned faces in perfect and natural repose, eyes closed as though in sleep, but from the stillness of the air, Teal'c knew that they were dead. Each wore a white funeral robe, with necklaces of beads around their necks and golden bangles on their arms.

"These are the Royal Dead of Kôr," Harruna said.

Teal'c examined the nearest body, that of a handsome, regal-looking woman in advanced middle-age. "These were here before Asar?" He asked.

"So we believe," Harruna replied. "We do not know for certain."

Teal'c nodded, slowly. It was hard to believe that the body before him could have been dead for more than a few hours. There was no sign of decay, no tissue desiccation or collecting of blood at the back of the neck. Moreover, the woman was of apparently African descent, her skin as dark as Teal'c's own. Teal'c wondered at this, aware that an ancient culture in this part of the world should have been fairer-skinned.

"Do you know how to find the testing area?" Harruna asked.

"We follow the greater path," Harruna replied. "My father followed the larger path as he travelled, until he met the man who guided him out. If we always take the widest way, we should be on the right track."

Teal'c nodded, although doubtful. He was well aware that he had few better ideas.

"We must be careful," Harruna added. "There are traps."

With this in mind, the two of them left the long gallery of the dead, and entered a broad passageway, lined with ancient relief carvings. The floor of the passage was lined with flagstones, some of which were ever so slightly recessed. Teal'c pressed one of these with the butt of his staff, and a burst of flame leaped out from a vent in the wall.

At the first junction, they passed straight over the narrower crossing passage, then took a left, still following the wider way. After about three hundred yards, the left-hand wall of the passage disappeared.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Teal'c admitted.

They moved closer and Teal'c shone the torch into the void. Clearly, this passage had inadvertently been constructed over a void in the rock; a chasm carved by the underground river which they could hear rushing through the darkness below them. At some point – perhaps millennia after the passage was cut – a huge mass of rock, including the side of the passage, has slipped and collapsed into the chasm. From the edge of the remaining floor, a mass of rubble sloped sharply away towards the river.

"Stay close to the wall," Teal'c cautioned.

"Father never mentioned this," Harruna said.

"Let us hope that this has happened since he was here," Teal'c said. "Since we have no option but to go on."

Harruna nodded, and they pressed themselves close to the right wall, shuffling cautiously along. Teal'c reached the far side of the gap safely, noting that another of the trigger stones had almost fallen with the rest of the floor. He turned to shine the light at the narrow ledge for Harruna's benefit, and as he did so he saw the boy's foot slip.

Part of the flagstone on which Harruna was standing crumbled, and he began to overbalance towards the abyss. In desperation, he threw himself forwards, landing on the edge of the breach; right on the trigger stone. Teal'c reached out to push Harruna aside, but even as he did so, the flame burst erupted from the wall, catching him square in the face.

Teal'c staggered backwards, clutching at his eyes. He felt his elbow strike Harruna, and heard the boy cry out, before he tripped on the edge of the trigger stone, and toppled backwards, his head striking hard against the passage wall. Bright light exploded before Teal'c's eyes, and he lay quite still.

*

Sam and Nefera stood, silent, while the implications of Ayesha's words sunk in.

"You wouldn't dare, breeder," Sam hissed.

Ayesha's eyes narrowed. "Wouldn't I?" She retorted, in a deadly whisper.

"Sam," Nefera cautioned.

Sam was surprised to hear the Ashrak use her given name, and even more surprised by the genuine vulnerability in her voice. She might have been moved by that tone, but that part of her was taking a back seat, as the Goa'uld arrogance boiled up inside her.

"Snivelling weakling!" Sam snapped, rounding on her Ashrak. "If you weren't so pathetic, we wouldn't be in this mess."

Nefera's concern was writ large on her face, but then it vanished, replaced by cold, hard rage. "Fool!" She snarled. "You can not even discipline your own tongue; how could you hope to control me? You are unworthy to have ever carried a symbiote."

Ayesha laughed in cold delight as Sam strained to raise her fist against Nefera. "Excellent," she purred. "Let us see which of you is truly the stronger."

She waved her hand, and suddenly Sam was free. She threw a punch at Nefera, but the Ashrak met her halfway with a fierce shoulder-charge, lifting her up and slamming her into the wall. Sam struck out at her opponent with crazed strength, adrenaline driving her through the ache in her bones and the pain as Nefera returned her attacks, blow-for-blow.

Ayesha sat on her couch, watching her enemies battle tooth-and-nail to destroy each other, and smiled to herself.

Sam charged Nefera, all but consumed by her anger, and the Ashrak moved aside, turning Sam's momentum so that she toppled to the ground, striking against something soft. She half-turned, and saw that what she had struck was the body of the murdered guard. With a wave of nausea, her humanity reasserted itself for a moment, and she leaped away from the corpse in horror.

She turned back to Nefera, and saw the other woman reaching under her belt. Sam hesitated before she attacked again; only for a moment, but it was enough. Nefera raised her hand, the slender metal coils of the hara-kash wrapped around her fingers. Sam froze in terror, remembering Jolinar's fear as the Ashrak threatened her in the cell at the SGC.

Ayesha smiled in satisfaction as the light from the Ashrak's weapon illuminated Sam's skull through the flesh of her face. Sam's limbs went limp, and she fell, dead upon the floor.

*

Hasdrucar sat vigil over his wife's body, waiting. After a short time, Sayaka brought him food, but he only ate so as not to disappoint the girl. She took the dish away when he was done, then returned to sit by his side. She probably thought that he did not know she had returned, and since he was touched by her gesture, he did not embarrass her.

"Hasdrucar?"

Hasdrucar turned his head towards the voice. "Matayu," he greeted his former rival. "Who is that with you?"

"Terrua the Viper, and Nema the Wolf," Matayu said. "They want to speak with you."

"Let them speak," Hasdrucar replied.

"We want to know if you have a plan," Nema said.

"I have told you what I want to do."

"Yes," Terrua agreed. "But not how." His voice came from very close to Nema's, his tone protective.

Hasdrucar turned back to his vigil with a nostalgic smile. Ah to be young and in love, he thought, lightly brushing his hand against Nayasa's cheek. "You want to know if I plan to lead you on a doomed march along the bridge," he said. "Is that correct?"

"Yes," Nema replied. "What you said…We believe you. We want to keep believing you, and if you have a plan to bring down Sh…Ayesha, then we are with you. Terrua has a great deal of respect among the Vipers, and I can call on the regard which the Wolf had for my father before he died."

"We can persuade a great many people to follow you," Terrua continued. "Or to denounce you. We don't want to lead our people to their deaths," he explained.

Hasdrucar nodded. "Either way, many will die," he warned.

"Then let us say that we will not lead them to a useless death," Nema said.

"I would not ask it," Hasdrucar agreed. "I have a plan. There are passages under the mountain, through the mine. We shall not have to climb the bridge in the face of her guards' flame spears, but it will not be easy."

"We do not ask for it to be easy," Nema assured him. "Only that it be possible."

"Will the elders come?" Terrua asked. "Will they bring their forces?"

"They will come," Hasdrucar said. "But whether they can be persuaded to aid us…That will depend on you, Nema."

"On me?"

Hasdrucar smiled at the mixture of pride and fear in the girl's voice. She was brave, but not foolish. "They must hear one of the Touched speak of the past," he said. "And you know the Touched of the Wolf tribe. I need you to find me one who knows the legends of Kôr."

"But the Touched are all but mute!" Matayu said. "Hasdrucar, how can the Touched persuade anyone?"

"They have knowledge, Matayu the Vulture," Hasdrucar said. "There is more to them than most of us can dream, and they will be the downfall of Ayesha."

"I hope you are right, blind man," Matayu said.

"Could we succeed without the support of the elders?" Terrua asked. "If there is even a chance…"

"There is a chance," Hasdrucar said. "But not a good one. If we can not persuade the elders to send their warriors, then we should make no move. Perhaps when you are older…"

"When we are older, we might be as fearful as our parents," Terrua replied.

Hasdrucar smiled again. The boy was hot-tempered, but there was strength and wisdom there. "You might be right," he admitted, sadly. "Although I am loath to rob our people of the children you and Nema could bear." He chuckled when Nema gasped in astonishment. "I am blind, child," he assured her. "But some things do not have to be seen to be known. Find me one who knows the legends," he told her again. "And we shall have strength enough for the task."

*

"Give me the hara-kash," Ayesha ordered. Nefera barely hesitated. "So," Ayesha said. "An Ashrak; how fascinating." She grasped the torch-lever, and the hidden door slid open. "Throw them in," she ordered, gesturing at both Sam and the guard.

"Yes, Mistress," Nefera said. She hefted the dead guard, and cast him into the darkness, hearing his body roll down the stone stairway. Once the sound had died away, she turned and lifted Sam. "What will happen to them?" She asked.

"The ape-creatures will eat them," Ayesha replied, airily.

Nefera hesitated. "She was…my Mistress," she said. "It does not seem right to hurl her away like carrion. May I carry her down?" She asked.

"She is carrion," Ayesha told her. "Throw her down."

"Yes, Mistress." Nefera bore Sam's body over to the opening. "Forgive me," she whispered, gently kissing Sam's forehead. Then she crouched, and gently allowed the body to roll from her arms and down the stairs. "Farewell."

Ayesha struck Nefera a violent, backhand blow to the side of her head, sending her sprawling. "You are weak," she declared, again.

"I am sorry, Mistress," she said. "But I was her Ashrak."

"And yet you killed her."

Nefera hung her head, ashamed. "I could not fight your power," she murmured. "I am thine Ashrak now."

Ayesha laughed, cruelly. "After what became of your last mistress, we do not think that we shall trust you yet. We may yet find a use for you however. Meanwhile, sit, and watch the rest of the trials."

*

Sam's body rolled down the stairs, gathering speed, and fetched up against the guard's corpse. There they lay, in a grotesque parody of intimate repose, until the first of the Morlocks emerged from the shadows.

His name was Benak.

This pale, heavy-set man approached the strangers, cautiously. In the dim light of the torches, his sensitive eyes could make out the two forms lying at the foot of the stairs. His tribe knew well that the people who came down those stairs from above were of two kinds: Those who walked, carrying glittering death in their hands, such as those who came before and killed his sister's husband; and those who were dead. With thick fingers he touched the throats of these two, to make certain that they were of the second type.

Turning to the younger foragers, Benak beckoned them forwards, and directed two to carry each of the dead strangers. They lifted them, carefully, and he led them back into the shadows.

Sam stirred and woke, with a clear head and a gnawing hunger in her stomach. Somewhere to the left of her, deep voices were chanting in some unknown language. She sat up, trying to remember where she was, and found no clues in the darkness that surrounded her. All she could see were numerous dark mounds, and a group of pale figures who seemed to be the source of the chanting. She struggled to her feet, wondering how she came to be here. The last she remembered was the Ashrak…

"She killed me," Sam said aloud.

The chanting faltered, and Sam sensed that some of the pale figures had turned towards her. She could not make much of a guess as to whether this was a bad thing or not. Rough voices began to speak in whispers.

"Hi," Sam said, causing the pale figures to fall silent. "Do you know…"

Suddenly, the darkness around her seemed to lessen, as a reddish glow fell upon the ground from behind her, casting her shadow towards the cluster of Morlocks, who cringed away from the torchlight.

"Sam."

Sam turned in alarm, and saw that the torch was carried by none other than Daniel Jackson. "Daniel," she gasped. "Aren't you…"

"Dead? No."

"Then…I'm not either?" She asked, hopefully.

"I had my doubts," Daniel admitted. "But it seems not."

"What are these creatures?" Sam asked, indicating the Morlocks, who were gazing at her in undisguised horror.

"Some kind of Neanderthal, I think," Daniel replied. "I've been calling them Morlocks."

"How did I get here?"

"They found you at the bottom of the stairs, and I followed them here. I thought that they might be bringing you to eat, but it looks as thought they were going to bury you. What happened to you?" As he spoke, Daniel took Sam by the elbow, and began to lead her away to the right of the Morlocks.

"Nefera…killed me, I think. With her hara-kash."

"You look very healthy for it."

"I feel good," Sam agreed. "But also very hungry."

"Ahh," Daniel said. "I think I see what happened. Why did Nefera 'kill' you?"

Sam thought back. "It's hazy. The Goa'uld instincts were running the show at that point, but I think Ayesha decided that – since you were dead – she only needed one hostage. Nefera decided that should be her," she finished, bitterly.

"No," Daniel insisted, as they circled around the Morlocks and began to back away from them. "She didn't try to kill you; she put you in a regenerative trance. That's why you're so hungry."

Sam nodded. "It might explain why I'm not in complete agony anymore," she admitted.

"She must have figured you would be safer away from Ayesha."

"That explains me then; what about you?"

"When we heard you call out, Jack and I figured that you must be able to see us. Jack pretended to kill me so that I could sneak back and try to find a way to help you."

"Well, it nearly got me killed," Sam told him. "But thanks."

Daniel shrugged. "We also felt it was best we get away from each other before we really did try to kill each other. Again," he added.

"Are they going to attack us?" Sam asked, gesturing at the Morlocks.

"I don't think so. They're afraid of light and fire, and they seem convinced that you're a ghost."

"Okay then. Let's review. What are our assets?"

"Our brains, your fighting skills, one knife, a torch, and a Shol'va's salute that Nefera slipped inside my shirt."

"Is that what she was doing?" Sam teased.

Daniel blushed. "I think I can see how to fire the thing, but I don't know how many shots it has."

"Probably not many," Sam said. "It's not a battlefield weapon. Okay; what are our liabilities?"

"We don't really know where we are, and we're surrounded by an unknown number of Morlocks. If we get out of these caves, we still need to get through the palace to attack Ayesha, and you'd probably just turn on me if she told you to, and we can't communicate with Jack or Teal'c."

"Oh!" Sam cried. "We can contact Teal'c; I clean forgot in all the being dead, but Harruna's mother brought us a field radio."

"Then that adds to our assets," Daniel said.

Benak watched the two strangers, curiously. All his life, he had been taught that all walking strangers brought the glittering death to harm his people. But the man had been in their territory twice, had yet to draw the glittering death from his belt, and had twice prevented his comrade attacking Benak's people. The woman was even more of a mystery. She had come here dead and now walked. The two of them stood close together now, making strange sounds to one another.

"Where do we go now?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Daniel admitted. "But maybe…" He took a step towards the Morlocks, who stepped back, all save a large male. "Fire," he said, pointing to the torch. "Above." He held the torch aloft. "Sun." The leader frowned, and Daniel tried a few other words. "Ra. Atthar."

"Atthar!" Benak was taken aback. The stranger knew the tribe's name for the burning light of the world outside.

"Atthar?" Sam asked.

"Pre-Islamic solar goddess," Daniel replied. "I was trying to find something that they would associate with the sun." He turned back to the Morlocks. "Atthar?" He asked, pointing in the direction he and Sam had been going.

Benak frowned again. "Atthar," he said, pointing in the opposite direction.

"Atthar," Daniel replied, beginning to move in the direction the leader had indicated. "This way to the sun," he told Sam.

"Unless 'Atthar' is Morlock for 'where's the bathroom'," Sam said.

Daniel frowned, but was pleased to hear Sam sounding a little like herself again. "Baraka," he said, bowing to the leader.

"Bakhar," Benak responded, again startled. He turned and watched the strangers leave with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it gladdened his heart to see goodness where he had thought there was only evil; on the other, he felt in his bones that the world had become a more complicated place, and he did not know what that might mean to his people.

"I'd guess that they were once enslaved," Daniel explained. "Either by the people of Kôr, or by the Goa'uld. Their language has developed away from its origins, but a few words must have survived intact in both their language and those outside. It's something similar to the pidgin language the Amahagger developed."

"That's great, Daniel," Sam said. "Although it doesn't really mean a lot to me."

"Too much detail?"

"Don't worry about it," Sam assured him. "We wouldn't have you any other way." She reached into her robe, and pulled out the small field radio. "These things get good mileage," she said, pleased to see that it had held up well as she rolled down the stone stairs. She raised the unit to her mouth and spoke: "Come in Teal'c."

*

Teal'c stirred, a pounding pain in his head.

His radio squawked again. "Teal'c; come in."

"Major Carter," Teal'c said, his voice slurred.

"Teal'c. Come in, damnit!"

Teal'c took the radio from his jacket and spoke into it. "I am here, Major Carter. I am in the catacombs, but we have run into difficulty with some manner of trap. On my way in through the mine, I encountered the tribe that you spoke of, conducting a funeral, but they were not hostile."

There was a pause before Sam spoke again. "That's great. We just met them, I think. They took me for dead and were having one of those funerals for me. Luckily they realised their mistake in time. Daniel reckons we must be in the same part of the mine you saw them in, which means we should be able to reach the surface pretty quickly.

"We're going to try and get back into the city," Sam went on. "I need to eat something soon, and then we need to do something about Ayesha." Another pause. "Daniel reckons we should strike for the Shrine of Asar; there might be another entrance to the end of the testing ground. You should keep going; try and find Jack, help him out, and be ready to support us when he gets through."

"I shall do my best," Teal'c said, flicking his torch on and off. "But it may be difficult."

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, concerned.

"It would seem that I am blind," Teal'c said.

*

Cautiously, Jack entered another of the seemingly endless parade of long galleries standing between him and the grand prize in Asar's little fun house.

"Oo-kay," he said to himself. "Looks pretty safe, which probably means it's not."

Treading carefully, Jack began to make his way to the far door. He was about halfway there when the trap was sprung. He was testing every slab before putting his weight on it, but the trigger stone turned out to be too stiff for anything but his full bodyweight to depress it. As soon as he felt the stone shift, Jack leaped forward, landing in a roll, and coming to his feet some fifteen feet behind the trigger. He half-turned, and felt a moment of admiration for Asar's design work, as a spear sailed from a hidden shaft, aimed at a point some fifteen feet behind the trigger.

Still off-balance, Jack was forced to dive awkwardly to the side, and his hip struck hard against the stone, driving the sheathed knife hard against his pelvis. He cried out in pain, but at least the spear missed his body, and glanced harmlessly off the stone.

With considerable discomfort, Jack forced himself to his feet, and began limping towards the exit. After a moment he stopped, picked up the spear and used it as a crutch.

"He may not have the mind your champion had," Ayesha told Nefera. "But he is resourceful and ingenious."

"He's great," Nefera agreed, without enthusiasm.

"You are not entertained by his efforts?"

"Oh, yeah. This is better than American Gladiators."

"He will make a truly excellent host," Ayesha continued, the nearest she was likely to come to expressing any actual admiration for a human.

"Yeah," Nefera said, distractedly.

"Come now," Ayesha chided. "You can't still be mourning the loss of your champion? He was impressive and attractive, but he was only human."

"You have no concept of what he was," Nefera whispered, bitterly.

Ayesha's face contorted with rage, but Nefera was spared another harsh chastisement as the Queen's attention was drawn back to the pool. Jack was crawling along the floor of another gallery, beneath a cloud of thick, noxious-looking gas. He stumbled clear of the room, his eyes streaming with tears.

"He is doing well," Ayesha noted. "Very few of our champions have managed to come so far."

Nefera pressed her eyes tightly closed, refusing to allow S