Night Watch

Part IV

Jack watched Daniel warily as they walked out into the street. The Rouenese used vehicles rather like wave runners that traveled on a cushion of air, moving in orderly patterns down the wide boulevard. Traffic stopped for the pedestrians and, when they mounted the flagstone pavement fronting the Watchtower, a sudden sound made Jack look up.

Instantly he was pushing Daniel down to the ground, P-90 held in both hands and taking aim instinctively at the huge creature swooping low over their heads. It landed a few feet away with a quiet whish, folded its wings and took a step toward the group.

“Hold it right there!” Jack demanded.

The gargoyle froze and moved its gaze from Daniel to Jack. It stretched to its full height of eight feet, looking down at him, and crossed its arms over its chest. Its black eyes narrowed, studying him.

In the glow of the streetlights, Jack could see it clearly now. It towered over him, skin looking like gray, pitted granite. Its shoulders and arms were massive, hands so huge they could have folded completely around his head and squished it like a grape. Its legs were bent at the knee into a shallow crouch, and its feet looked more like they belonged on an enormous St. Bernard than resembling anything human.

A long tail extended from its backside, reclining on the grass beside its feet in a graceful curve. Broad, thick bat-like wings flared out from its shoulders, and its head, while vaguely resembling something quasi-human in shape, was dominated by those big black eyes, shining like smoothly polished obsidian in its face. A broad, aquiline nose hooked over an almost non-existent lipless mouth, set into a strong, squared chin. Pointed ears arched toward the back of its head, which was covered in a mass of what looked like tiny tentacles, or maybe really thick, greenish hair. Its body was uniformly the same color all over, except for small patches of stuff on its shoulders and thighs that looked like velvety green moss.

Its facial expression seemed calm, not a hint of emotion showing other than the slight narrowing of its eyes as it regarded Jack. He couldn’t tell if it was threatening and about to attack or just dropping by to say a friendly gargoyle hello, and that made him jumpy. The only thing he knew for certain was that it was interested in Daniel.

The younger man got slowly to his feet again, pulling his blanket closer about him, and stepped between Jack and the creature. Daniel held up one hand, palm out, telling Jack to take no action. Then he turned and walked toward the gargoyle, a wondering smile on his face.

Jack clenched his teeth, squeezing his weapon a little harder. He hated it when Daniel did stuff like this. Those things were dangerous. He had seen the damage they could do and how easily they managed it. Jack didn’t trust them near his teammate, especially since Daniel was under the influence of their illuminatus.

For a moment, man and alien just looked at each other. The creature’s gaze rolled slowly back to Jack’s tense face, then back to Daniel before it moved. One hand, bristling with razor sharp claws, reached out slowly toward Daniel. It eyed Jack again before it made contact, as if asking permission.

It seemed more curious than threatening, so Jack waited anxiously, ready to shoot it if it made the wrong move.

Those thick, rough-looking fingers lightly brushed Daniel’s cheek. As its hand drew away, Daniel caught it, running his fingers over the stony-textured flesh.

“Wow,” Carter breathed at his elbow. “They’re checking each other out.”

The gargoyle squatted down a little farther, dropping down to Daniel’s height. They just stared at each other, not a sound passing between them. Then Daniel half turned and gestured at his friends. The gargoyle pointed upward, and Jack looked up, catching sight of a few more dark shapes now flying overhead.

“Are they communicating?” asked Teal’c. “I hear nothing.”

“Maybe they’re telepathic,” suggested Carter. “Madame Bien said she’d been altered to communicate with them. Maybe this illuminatus thing might make it possible for Daniel to link up with them. I’d love to listen in on that conversation.” She was smiling, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Jack turned his attention back to Daniel and his new friend. He took a step forward when Daniel moved very close to the creature, looking at something on its chest. The archaeologist’s free hand was touching it and in the wash from the street lights Jack saw that it was a symbol just like the one on the Watch Commander’s pendant, only this one appeared to be carved into the gargoyle’s chest. It looked like a simple eye, standing on end between the creature’s pectorals, right over its heart – if it even had one.

As a commotion sounded in the street behind him, Jack instinctively turned to glance at the traffic accident. People were shouting and getting off their vehicles while others sought to move around them. His attention was diverted for only a few seconds, but a shout from Teal’c made him turn back to check on his teammate and the gargoyle.

“Daniel!” cried Carter, rushing forward to where he had been standing a moment earlier.

He and the creature were gone.

Jack clenched his teeth, looking up as man and creature rose steadily and swiftly into the night sky, those broad wings flapping noiselessly in strong, powerful strokes that pushed against the air and lifted them higher, angling over the street and the courtyard surrounding the Watchtower. The creature held Daniel effortlessly against its chest, clutching him gently as if he were weightless and incredibly precious. Daniel had his arm around the creature’s neck, his face filled with joy, a bright smile on his lips, his eyes on the sky.

Jack couldn’t shoot the creature down without risking injuring Daniel, either from a bullet or the fall, and he watched helplessly as the pair disappeared into the dark sky.

This was exactly what he had been afraid of happening. As always, Daniel was just being Daniel, going off to explore something new and exciting without thinking about letting his C.O. know what he was planning. With an exasperated sigh, Jack jogged back across the street, dodging traffic, hell-bent on finding the Watch Commander and making her have her minion bring back his archaeologist.

Esme Bien was just coming out of the city hall to meet them.

Jack grabbed her by the upper arm, impatience, frustration and anxiety getting in the way of reason. She spun quickly out of his grip and behind him, slamming into his back with her elbow and sending him staggering forward a few steps. That cleared his head a little and when he faced her again, he apologized. “Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to lay hands on you like that.” He glanced upward, pointing with one finger. “But one of your big honkin’ flying statues just ran off with my teammate, and he’s got no business being out there doing God knows what with it.”

The woman’s eyes were glittering with leashed anger. “Your Daniel will come to no harm,” she bit out. “He is with the eldest of the Guardians.” Her eyes narrowed and her voice deepened, rough with resentment. “And they are not statues, colonel. Far from that.”

“Make it bring him back,” Jack demanded, drilling holes in her with his eyes. “Right now.”

“I cannot.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “He needs to be with them. They will help him.”

Jack came closer, bending down into her face, mad as hell that she wasn’t even trying to appear cooperative. “The only way they can help him is to get those things out of him, and you told me they can’t do that without a fight. So how are they helping him?”

“The elder is taking him far away, where he will not feel the need to protect others as strongly. They understand that he is fragile, and they have no wish to harm him.  They will see that he eats and rests, and they will help him become centered for his coming battle.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down, giving as good as she got.

That news made Jack feel a little better, though not completely relieving his anxiety. The Guardians were keeping Daniel clear of his compulsion to do battle, saving his strength for when he’d need it most. Jack let out a sigh of relief and started to relax. “You really trust them?” he asked quietly.

Esme also relaxed and clasped her hands behind her back. “I do, Colonel O’Neill. We have come to depend on them for, unlike human peacekeepers, they cannot be corrupted. They act only when necessary to protect others. They have no ego to satisfy, you see.” She smiled, quiet admiration slowly lighting up her face as she talked. “They have no concept of self and make no distinctions among them. To speak to one is to speak to all. They do not even have names. Can you imagine that, colonel? To live so completely for good that you have no desires of your own?”

That was a pretty humbling concept. “No, I don’t think I can.”

“We have had generations to try to understand their virtue and still it eludes us.” She nodded toward the street, and he fell into step beside her, watching the traffic, waiting for the proper moment to cross. “We know that we are better people for having them among us and hope that one day we may come to be more like them.”

Jack glanced down at the pendant winking in the pale illumination from the streetlights. That she trusted them was a good thing, but Jack held onto his suspicion, only slightly comforted by her confidence in the alien creatures. When he saw Daniel back in one piece, he’d feel better. Until then, he simply kept his opinions to himself.

As he rejoined his other teammates and headed back into the Watchtower, he cast an anxious eye into the sky. Once inside, they waited together for Doctors Lee and Fraiser to rejoin them.

Janet looked positively stunned when she sat down at the table a few hours later. Carter prepared a plate of food for her, but Fraiser didn’t touch it at first, just staring down at the sandwich, cheese chunks and fruit. Bill Lee looked shaken and skipped the food completely, pouring himself a glass of juice with shaky hands and moving to the balcony to look upward, watching the sky.

“What’s the most basic question a scientist asks when trying to classify a new discovery?” Janet asked.

Carter sat down across from her and pushed the plate a little closer to her friend. “Animal, vegetable or mineral?”

Fraiser nodded. “Well, lady and gentlemen, it seems the Guardians are all three.” She looked down at the food finally and snatched up a half sandwich, chowing down on it instantly.

“What? That’s impossible,” Sam countered.

With a shake of her head, Janet swallowed her half-chewed mouthful. “You should know by now that rules of Earth do not apply to the entire universe, Sam. It’s hard to believe, but these are beings that are as much plant and animal as rock. I could spend a lifetime studying them and barely scratch the surface.”

“So how do we keep Daniel safe from these things?” Jack demanded quietly, reaching for a piece of ham-like meat dangling out of the other half of her sandwich.

Janet slapped his hand, barely blinking at his intrusion on her dinner. “I have no idea. They have skin thicker than an elephant’s and imbued with granules of crystal that makes it really hard to cut. Daniel could punch and kick one all day and wouldn’t hurt it. It would be like beating a brick wall.”

“Vulnerable spots?” he suggested, successfully snatching a tiny chunk of cheese from the little pile beside her sandwich.

She swatted at him again. “They don’t have a circulatory system like we do; more like that of trees, porous tissues that allow nutrients to pass from one organ to another. Their bones are almost as dense as stone, and their claws are like shards of obsidian. Talk about your perfect warrior. Wow.” She took another bite of her sandwich and glared dangerously at Jack as his hand moved in for another snack run.

He thought better of stealing from her plate and went to fetch another one for himself. “So is there anything Daniel can do to keep this thing from killing him?”

“Hope he gets a nice one?” Janet sighed and stared down at her plate and shook her head hopelessly. “If the Guardian he fights just knocks him out with one punch, that could be all it takes.” She frowned. “Then again, if it doesn’t know just how hard to hit him, he could suffer some serious brain damage or—“

“Oy, more doom and gloom.” Jack set his plate down on the serving table, his appetite suddenly MIA. “There’s just no way to predict what’s gonna happen, is there? We just have to hold our breaths and hope it turns out okay.” He went to the balcony to stand beside Bill Lee, looking out at the night and wondering where Daniel was, if he was all right. As long as he was protected, Jack could deal with the war going on inside himself.

He felt like he’d let Daniel down somehow. Glancing back over his shoulder at Janet as she picked at her food, he thought to himself that there was a lot of that going around. One by one, he met his teammates’ eyes and saw that they were all just as worried that they would lose Daniel one last time and have to stand by and watch it happen without lifting a finger to help.

Jack turned back to the starry night sky and swallowed the lump of fear and frustration in his throat, not wanting the others to see just how shaken he really was by that thought.

Daniel couldn’t remember ever having been so cold. The old Guardian kept him gently pressed to its chest, cradled like a child, but it was like hugging a rock. He tried pulling the blanket tighter around him, but the wind currents beating at him during the flight cut through to the bone. He thought the gargoyle’s body might even be inadvertently sapping his body heat, pushing him dangerously close to hypothermia.

He was getting sleepy, the cold settling into his mind.

Soon. Keep awake, little one.

The thought coursing through Daniel’s mind was so warm and kind it prodded him gently toward wakefulness. He thought they might be descending, sensing the ground coming up beneath them. The angle of the elder’s body changed and suddenly its wings beat the air harder and faster. Daniel could feel the slight tremor of impact as the alien’s feet touched down. He expected it to put him down.  He was shaking so hard he didn’t think he could walk.

Still cuddled against the elder’s broad, cold chest, it carried him into the mouth of a cave. The stone arch passing above them was carved in elegant swirls brushed by the blue light of four tiny moons in the night sky. Inside the cave the soaring roof had been carved into peaked vaults and a warm amber glow from oil lamps fastened to the walls bade them welcome. One huge fist struck a wooden door set into an archway, and after a moment it was opened, a fountain of welcome warmth spilling out toward them.

Daniel looked over the tops of his fogged glasses, peering down from his living cradle into the face of a very old man dressed in long, shabby brown velvet robes. The fellow looked startled by the appearance of this creature at his door but pulled it open and let them inside without hesitation. The Guardian deposited Daniel gently on the floor in front of the fireplace and stood back, squatting down nearby to watch him.

“Greetings to you, stranger,” the old man said with a cheery smile. “By what name shall I call you?”

The language was old, different from the Middle French he knew, but Daniel translated the Rouenese dialect with little trouble. He simply couldn’t answer. He shrugged helplessly and offered a smile of apology.

The old man waited for a moment for a response, then looked to the Guardian for an explanation.

Daniel turned toward the flames, chilled to the bone, unable to stop shivering.

“He is injured? Mute? Foreign?”

The Guardian’s eyes narrowed. It raised one large hand and touched the mark on its chest, then pointed one finger at Daniel.

Head jerking back as if he’d been slapped, eyes wide with shock, the old man gasped and clenched his fists over his chest. “No! My friend, does he not understand the price he will pay?” He stared at the Guardian.

The creature covered its face with its hands, then reached out with one of them and gently caressed Daniel’s hair. It looked sad.

A heavy, sorrowful breath escaped the old man. He bowed deeply to Daniel and straightened slowly. “I am Arneau, friend of the Guardians. I offer you the comforts of my humble home for as long as you may live.” He moved to his bed, stripped the blankets from it and brought them to his guest, wrapping them around Daniel’s shoulders. “You will need to eat.  My food is humble, but I will happy to bring you some of it,” he announced and disappeared into what must be his kitchen.

Daniel eased closer to the hearth, hands stretched out to catch the heat from the flames. The warmth gradually seeped into him. By the time he warmed up, the old man had returned with a bowl of thick stew and a chunk of bread and cheese on a plate. Daniel took them from him and lifted his face to offer his thanks, but he couldn’t remember how to work his voice. His mouth moved but no sound came out. He looked helplessly up at his host.

“You need not thank me,” Arneau said warmly, patting his shoulder. “You cannot speak, I know. It is part of what illuminatus does in our bodies. They begin to change us, as they do the séréf, to make them into Guardians.” He bowed toward the Guardian. “Only they are far stronger than we. Our bodies cannot tolerate hosting the illuminatus for long, as I am sure you realize by now.”

Daniel nodded. Hunger reminded him that he had food in his grasp, and he began to shovel it in as fast as he could chew and swallow. It tasted good and warmed him on the inside as the fire heated him outside. He sighed when he finished, rose and carried the bowl back to his host, offering a bow of thanks.

Arneau had been sitting in a rocking chair, watching him eat. “Would you like more?” he asked politely as he took the bowl. “I have plenty, if you wish.”

Daniel shook his head, satisfied and content for the moment. He dipped his head, hands fluttering in the air, trying to find a signal that the old man might understand to offer his gratitude. He tried the American Sign Language gesture, then shook his head, certain Arneau would not understand.

“You are welcome,” said his host with a mirthful twinkle in his eyes, taking a guess at the meaning of the gesture. “Come, sit by the fire, young one. I will remember the old days, and you will listen politely.” He chuckled.

Daniel grinned. He had so many questions, so many things he wanted to know about what was happening to him, about where he was, who this man was and his connection to the Guardians. He could think clearly again, the images that had tortured him now little more than distant whispers. He settled down on the hearth, drew his blanket around himself, and pulled one from the pile by the hearth to lay across his host’s lap.

“You are a thoughtful young man,” Arneau observed happily. “No wonder you have caught the Guardians’ attention.” He turned to make eye contact with the elder. “May I get you anything, old friend?”

The gargoyle slowly shook its head. Its eyes closed, and it grew very still.

“All right, then. Rest and listen to the Others.” Arneau gazed fondly at the creature. “Beautiful, is it not?”

Daniel looked at the giant alien, studied its features, the lines of its face, the radiance he saw pouring out from it. There was a stately presence about it, an air of great dignity that he found compelling. Though its skin looked rough and pitted and felt cold and grainy, it had been incredibly gentle with him.

What moved him most, however, were the gossamer brushes of the Guardians’ righteous minds against his own. That was an experience to be coveted. Daniel felt humbled by the depth of their goodness and purity.

He nodded. Yes, the Guardian was beautiful and also unique, transcending its outward appearance.  It was ugly to human eyes, but its inner beauty radiated in blinding glory. The Guardians were the most beautiful spirits Daniel had ever encountered. He was in awe of them.

“It will not be easy, what you must do,” Arneau said gravely, his gaze now firmly fixed on his guest’s face. “In all of our shared history, only once has the transfer been done successfully.” He paused, his brown eyes filled with sorrow. “Other human beings once sought out the illuminatus in the vain hopes of attaining glory or revenge. They were driven mad by it or killed in the battle meant to free them. Those who could not rid themselves of the illuminatus… died.”

The odds didn’t sound good. Daniel still wasn’t sure exactly what was expected of him. His mind had been so cluttered when his friends were discussing his situation that he hadn’t gotten all the details.

“You are wondering how I know about all this, yes?”

Daniel nodded.

The old man’s hands moved to the collar of his robe. He began to unfasten the knotted buttons down the front, talking quietly as he opened up his clothes. “I was an historian, long ago, when I was young like you.” He smiled. “I sought out knowledge in many places, everywhere on my world...” He glanced at the sleeping gargoyle and smiled wistfully. “…and on theirs. I journeyed to the arena to document the battle between two séréf, but both of them were badly injured. I helped the winner into the grotto and was taken by the illuminatus in error, because I was the stronger at that moment.”

Arneau’s gnarled hands parted the plackets of his robe, revealing his drooping chest covered in a forest of white curls. Beneath the hair, right over his heart, was a thick red scar in the shape of an eye standing on end. After a moment, he closed the robe and began to button it up again.

Daniel stared, hope rising up within him. Arneau had once been where he was now and lived to tell the tale.

“No one knows this, my young friend, save for the Guardians and me.” He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. “When I returned, I was none the wiser, believing that the young séréf had received the gift. It died without ever leaving its world, as did the challenger.”

The old man rose, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders, and shuffled toward a small bookcase mounted against the rock wall.

“It was many nights later that I realized I could hear the Guardians. By then I was already on the streets of my city, seeking out evil and doing battle to save innocent lives. That was where the elder found me. It watched me fight, and when the skirmish was over, it counseled me, told me what had happened and what must be done if I wished to live. What it could not tell me was how to survive the battle. They cannot think in so devious a manner, to cheat death and yet lose a fight.” He smiled, a touch of pride in his eyes fading into sadness. “That is a human trait, I fear.”

He pulled out a leather-bound book, gazed at it fondly for a moment, then shuffled back to his chair. “This is my journal, boy. It will tell you how to lose and, in doing so, win the fight of your life.” He handed the book to his visitor with a heavy sigh. “Perhaps that is why the elder brought you here.” Arneau turned to look at the Guardian and saw that its dark eyes were now open, regarding them both.

Daniel imagined he saw the creature smile.

“It wishes you to live,” Arneau declared. “You must be very special, indeed.” He patted Daniel on the shoulder. “Study well, young one. I am old and need my sleep.” Slowly he rose and started toward his bed.

Daniel gathered up the rest of the covers by the hearth and hurried ahead, laying them out on the bed and turning down the covers by the time the old man got there.

“Thank you for your kindness,” said Arneau warmly, patting his cheek. “Your mother must be very proud of you.”

A lump rose up instantly in Daniel’s throat. He looked away, waiting until the old man had gotten under the covers before spreading the last blanket on top.

Daniel retreated to the rocking chair, picking up his blanket and wrapping it around himself as he sat down. He took the journal and scanned the pages, looking for familiar words that might tip him off to the proper starting point.

Fortunately, like many archaeologists, the historian was fond of drawing small pictures to illustrate specific passages and discoveries. Once Daniel found the account of the battle of the doomed séréf, he set to work deciphering and translating the story. He was so absorbed in the tale he didn’t hear the elder when it called.

The Guardian rose, the sound of its motion drawing Daniel’s attention. He realized it must have been several hours while he was studying; quite possibly most of the night had passed without his notice.

We must return.

I’m not finished yet! Just a little more time, please? Daniel clutched the book until his fingertips turned white.

You have learned the secrets. Hold them close, or we will see. We must go, before the sunrise.

With a sigh, Daniel closed the journal and left it lying on the chair. Glancing at the sleeping man, he wished he could thank him for his help and kindness but didn’t want to wake him. Daniel gathered his blanket around himself and led the way out of the cave to the spot where they had landed hours earlier. He was tired, but not as exhausted as he had been just a day earlier. A night of peace had done wonders for him.

The Guardian squatted down, and Daniel stepped up on its bent thigh, hooked one arm around the elder’s neck, and it embraced him, holding him close to its body. With one mighty leap, it was sky-bound, its arms closed around him just tightly enough to keep him safe. He was freezing again by the time they returned to the city and the elder folded its wings and carried him into the domed building that housed the Rouenese stargate.

The rest of his teammates, along with Bill and Janet and the Watch Commander, were waiting for them there.

Jack looked worried. “Daniel, you okay?”

He tried to nod as the elder set him on his feet, but all he could do was shake. The visions had started again well before they arrived at the city, and Daniel wanted desperately to answer them. He turned, seeking the nearest exit, but the Guardian blocked his path.

You must not go, little one.

I must, Daniel pleaded, gazing up into the elder’s eyes, teeth chattering from cold and face contorted with need.

There was murder in the colonel’s eyes as he turned his anger on the elder, uncertain what was wrong with his younger friend but obviously ready to blame the Guardian. Daniel stepped between them, stumbling against Jack and drawing his attention away from the Guardian. Jack’s arms went around his shoulders and steadied him, helping keep him on his feet.

“Jeez, you’re like ice,” he growled unhappily. Turning to look around at the Watch Commander, he barked for some blankets or a heater to warm Daniel up and gestured to the rest of the team to gather around him. They pressed themselves against him, sharing their body heat, and in a few minutes the chill had broken enough that he could stay upright on his own.

He wanted to thank them but contented himself with a smile. They were his family, and he loved them. He hoped they knew that.

Esme returned with a small box in her hands and a bag dangling from one wrist. She handed the box to Jack, who opened it and ducked back from a cloud of steam. He glanced inside and retrieved a small, thin blanket, heat rising up from its surface. He wrapped it around Daniel, who sighed blissfully at the warmth soaking into his body.

 “Once you have warmed sufficiently, we will journey to the arena on the séréf homeworld to await the arrival of the challenger,” Esme declared.

“I thought all of them were on your planet now?” Jack looked up at the elder Guardian suspiciously.

Esme shook her head. “Only those who have joined with the illuminatus. Those who have not remain on their homeworld to live quietly. When a Guardian on my world dies, the illuminatus return to their homeworld to choose a replacement.”

“So these séréf will meet us there?” asked Carter.

“They do not live close to the arena and must wait until nightfall before they travel,” explained Esme. “Many may come to watch. We have a little time before the match begins, but it will be more comfortable for your friend if we go now. Already he hears the call, and it is not yet time for the sunrise. If we stay…” She eyed Daniel with a sympathetic gaze. “He will be weakened. Better to go now, before he is overcome with need.”

Daniel nodded in confirmation, shuddering as the summons to act intensified.

The group hurried to the stargate, the members of SG-1 bodily moving their linguist toward the Rouenese stargate. The Watch Commander dialed the Guardian homeworld and SG-1, Doctors Fraiser and Lee, and the elder Guardian followed her into the wormhole.

Instantly upon their arrival, Daniel relaxed, the silence and peace filling him up. He smiled, enjoying his companions’ light conversation as they walked toward the nearby arena, choosing ringside seats right in the middle of the first row of stone benches. The sun had just set, only a narrow band of color on the horizon providing them enough light to find their way.

Esme reached for her bracelet and turned a large onyx cabochon around. From all around the rear of the arena, white balloons glowing with soft light rose up, illuminating the scene as brightly as daylight. “The lights are for our benefit, that we may see the battle. The séréf see well in total darkness.” She nodded toward Daniel. “As does your friend.”

“Sir, I’ve got to check into some of their technology,” Sam insisted enthusiastically.

“When we get back,” Jack answered absently, staring at the lighted balloons. He turned his attention to the man sitting quietly beside him. “I never thought I’d miss hearing you talk, Daniel… but I do.”

Daniel smiled at him, understanding the unspoken unease behind Jack’s statement. He wanted to reassure his friend but there wasn’t any way to do that. Daniel didn’t know if he’d be walking out of the arena or carried out to be buried back on Earth.

Relishing the internal quiet, Daniel thought this might be a place where he could live with the illuminatus in his system, if he had the bad luck to triumph over his opponent. And if he survived. He wanted to be free of their influence, but combat with something that could easily squash him like a bug wasn’t a very pleasant way to go about enticing them to leave. He thought just walking up to one of the séréf ought to be able to do the trick, but apparently the illuminatus needed more concrete proof that the séréf was a superior warrior. He was also afraid of hurting the alien, because he did know a thing or two about battle now, how to hurt, maim and kill. He’d learned that from Jack and hard experience in the field and knew he wouldn’t be holding back during the forthcoming fight.

He wondered how much longer they’d have to wait.

Jack stood up and looked down at him. “Hey, wanna go through a few moves, maybe? Warm up a little?”

Daniel glanced up into his worried eyes, thinking for a second, and nodded. He stood up and let his blanket drop off his shoulders, leaving it behind on the stone seat. He glanced down at his hospital scrubs, wishing he had something more appropriate to wear, but the extra clothes they’d brought for him were back in the Watchtower on Rouen.

Jack lifted off his P-90 and set it down by Carter’s feet, then took off his vest and BDU jacket and laid them aside, leading the way out into the arena.

When they arrived at the middle of the open space, Jack pulled Daniel close and spoke softly in his ear. “The Watch Commander told us the Guardians are all linked, sort of a single mind thing. Is it some sort of telepathy?”

Daniel nodded. Jack’s gaze slid over to the huge alien sitting still as a statue in the stands. “Can you get rid of the Guardian? I’d like to show you a couple of new things that might help and don’t want it watching.”

Daniel hadn’t thought about the journal and what he’d read, didn’t want to have that floating about in his mind for the challenger to know. However, he wasn’t sure that using the same technique twice would work. If the séréf he fought had been witness to that previous battle, it would already know what Arneau had done and most likely have figured a strategy to avoid the same outcome. Daniel needed something new, something that hadn’t been seen or tried yet. Apparently Jack was thinking the same thing.

Daniel held up a finger, indicating for Jack to wait. Daniel aimed his thoughts to the elder, sitting just behind the rest of the Tau’ri. Thank you for all that you have done for me, friend.

You are welcome.

Have you sensed my thoughts? Daniel turned to look across the arena into those fathomless black eyes.

Only your disquiet and uncertainty. You are concerned for your challenger and do not wish to hurt us. The gargoyle inclined its head. We honor you for this.

I am called Daniel, old one. He hesitated. I must ask you to go for a little while. You may return when the others come.

Without warning the gargoyle sprang up into the air and flew off.

Daniel started stretching while Jack did some calisthenics to warm up. The movements hurt, reminding him of his still-healing ribs, but he gritted his teeth and ignored the pain. He couldn’t let that stop him now because his life was on the line. Battle was the only way to get rid of the illuminatus in his body and get his life back… if he lived through the battle itself.

“Ready?” Jack asked after a few minutes.

When Daniel nodded, he went down on his knees to practice the last technique he’d been shown. Jack moved forward, aiming a fist at Daniel’s head, swinging hard. Daniel caught his arm by the wrist and pulled, swept his other arm across Jack’s chest and leaned forward, promptly dumping Jack on his back.

O’Neill grimaced and got slowly to his feet. “Okay, so you remember that one pretty well. I don’t think you’ll be able to use that move on a two-ton living statue. No way sweeps or throws will work on these things. Let’s try some advanced stuff. Since you may get knocked down, I want to show you how to fight from the ground.”

Jack lay on his back in the dirt. “Okay, attack me like you think these aliens might come at you.”

Daniel tried to imagine how the séréf might strike from above, how to let it get in close before he moved. Once he had a few ideas, he stepped up to stand next to Jack’s right hip. He leaped up into the air and came down with legs spread, straddling the prone man, reaching down with his right hand to rake across Jack’s chest.

Jack’s fist came up, thumb extended, and dragged across Daniel’s abdomen from the waistband of his scrub pants to his sternum. He grinned, holding up his thumb and wiggling it. “That was a knife, in case you didn’t get the idea. I’m giving you mine for the fight. They’ve got claws, so you need an equalizer.”

If Jack’s thumb had been a knife, Daniel would have been split wide open. He glanced at the knife in the scabbard on Jack’s belt. The gargoyle had razor-sharp claws. He ought to have the same advantage.

Daniel nodded. He tried the same move with Jack attacking him, fumbled through it the first time and missed the crucial timing, but got it on the second and third tries. He nodded, got up and Jack lay down again, trying several different defensive measures followed up with attacks. Though anything he might do with a short-bladed knife like the ones they carried in the field would do little more than annoy the séréf, a few deep cuts would slow it down and make it move more carefully. Daniel had no idea how they felt pain – if they felt it at all – but surely if he were lucky and got in a few hits in important places, he could keep it from killing him outright.

He strolled back to the stands with Jack, who handed over his knife as they walked. As the older man started to sit down, Daniel tugged him over to stand in front of Janet Fraiser. He looked at her for a moment, trying to figure out how to ask for the information he needed. She wasn’t telepathic and none of the Tau’ri knew sign language except him, aside from the hand signals they used in combat situations. Daniel sighed, brow furrowed in thought.

Holding his left hand palm out, he tried to help Jack understand that Daniel wanted him to keep still. Then, when he saw another nod, Daniel glanced at Janet and carefully directed the knife toward Jack’s body, bringing it carefully up to lay aside his neck, then pointing at his heart with the tip, making a slash over his abdomen without actually touching his body with the blade, marking the most desirable targets with the motion and angle of the blade.

He turned to look at Janet, then raised his hands and flapped them at his sides like wings. He handed Janet the knife, hilt first, then pointed at himself.

“Uhhh…” She took it, glancing between him and Jack, not understanding the pantomime.

“He wants to know where to strike the gargoyle for maximum effect,” Jack explained. “You’ve researched their physiology, so…?”

“Oh.” Janet stood up and marked Daniel’s neck in the same way he had done with Jack. “They don’t have a circulatory system, per se, and can absorb oxygen through their skin as well as breathing it in through their lungs. A strike to the throat won’t kill one but it will slow it down. If you can cut through the esophagus, that will make it dependent on their secondary oxygen collection system, so the séréf will be sluggish in its movements.”

Laying her free hand on his chest, she continued. “Same goes for the lungs, same place as ours, but the tissues between are so dense you’ll only be able to penetrate deep enough if you thrust with your whole body weight, upward at an angle, just below the ribs. I’ll warn you, though, if you hit a rib, your blade will shatter like glass.”

Daniel nodded, feeling a little light-headed at the knowledge being imparted to him. Doctor Fraiser was very good at her job. Not only did she know how to heal, she’d be deadly in combat because she knew every vulnerability and how to exploit it. Those were two sides of the same coin.

“If you can get to its back, there’s a tendon-like anchor on the underside of where the wing is attached to the body. If you can cut that, it won’t be able to fly.”

That had been part of Arneau’s strategy that Daniel had read in the old man’s journal. Arneau had clung to the séréf’s back and disabled it with cuts to the wing and throat. The wily séréf had simply fallen backward, trapping his body under it until he had passed out. In that unconscious state the illuminatus had left him and had gone into the Guardian, allowing Arneau to return to the average man he had been prior to becoming their host.

Janet pointed out a multitude of targets, describing exactly how to attack them and what damage such a wound would do. When she finished, she handed the knife back to him and stepped back, resuming her seat on the stone bench. She looked worried. “Did you get all that, Daniel?”

He smiled and turned to Jack, who was still standing beside him. Very quickly, he made slashing and stabbing motions to illustrate the techniques she had described and turned back to her with a wink.

“Very impressive,” Esme said to them. “You must be a great warrior among your people, Daniel.”

He snorted and shook his head, then pointed to Jack, Teal’c and Sam. He felt Jack’s gaze on him and turned to make eye contact.

Jack hooked his thumbs in his belt and leaned back a little, pride in his eyes. “Yeah. Actually, he is.”

Daniel met that unwavering gaze and was pleased with the compliment. It felt good to be acknowledged by a man who Daniel knew measured others by the same yardstick with which he measured himself. Jack had always held himself to a high standard, and for Daniel to know that he had met Jack’s approval meant a great deal. Had he come so far in so short a time? Daniel stuck out his hand toward Jack, and they shook hands firmly.

He turned to head out to the center of the arena to wait. He could feel them coming closer and knew they would be arriving soon.

Esme caught at his sleeve. “Daniel, you must change into this costume before you fight. It will stretch to fit you.” She removed the bag from her wrist and held it out toward him.

Daniel did a double-take, then looked to Jack to speak for him.

“Costume?” asked Jack, right on cue. “Y’mean, like Batman?”

“What he is wearing will not do,” Esme insisted. “What is a batman?”

That bag looked awfully small. Daniel peered inside it while Jack explained the concept of comic strip superheroes.

Daniel pulled the costume out, staring at the burgundy pants that looked like they would fit a six year old, made of some kind of soft, suede-like material. The equally small tunic had a Mandarin collar decorated with small, flat gold studs and long sleeves that ended in a point over the hands. A matching pair of soft suede boots completed the outfit. If it stretched to fit, it promised to be skin-tight.

Daniel would die of embarrassment if he had to wear that. He thrust the bag back at her and shook his head.

She raised an eyebrow, reached out and grabbed a fistful of his scrub top, tugging on it gently. “Then you will be very easy to catch.” One finely arched pewter eyebrow lifted in challenge.

Daniel’s mouth went dry. He swallowed hard and painfully and pulled the teeny costume close in capitulation. He rolled his eyes with a frustrated sigh.

Jack clapped him on the shoulder with a wry grin, shaking his head. “Only you, Daniel. This stuff only happens to you.”

Daniel nodded and sighed with resignation.

He headed off behind the stadium alone, glancing about for a few minutes to make sure there was no one peeking, and set the little bag down. He kept looking around as he stripped off the scrub top and pulled on the burgundy tunic, pulling it way down to cover his butt. He quickly took off the scrub pants, stepped into the suede pants and struggled to pull them up his legs, then over his hips, tucking his body into the tight-fitting material until he was fairly confident he wouldn’t embarrass himself too much. He sat down on the ground to pull on the boots, folded up his scrubs and put them in the bag.

The outfit was warm and surprisingly comfortable, once he got used to it. He glanced down at himself and decided it looked pretty classy. A menacing looking gargoyle with flared wings was embroidered across the front of the tunic in the same burgundy color of the material. With no mirror available he couldn’t see whether it showed too much or adequately covered him, but that wasn’t really its purpose. The material moved with him and kept him warm, so it would be perfect for the battle to come. Its thickness made him feel covered and the tunic stretched modestly down over his hips. Even the boots fit perfectly and nothing was restricting, flowing with his every movement like his own skin. He could see the wisdom of fighting in such an outfit.

He resettled his glasses on his nose, squared his shoulders, picked up the bag with his hospital clothes and headed back into the arena. He sat up straight as he took a seat beside his teammates in the near-darkness, lit by a half dozen small moons high up in the sky and those intriguing white balloons all around the back of the arena.

“Niiiiice outfit,” Sam breathed appreciatively, her eyes raking him.

“I’ll say,” agreed Janet.

Daniel saw them looking him up and down and blushed. He made a dismissive motion with his hand.

“Not Batman,” Jack added, shaking his head as he swept his teammate with a dispassionate glance. “I’m thinkin’ more The Flash, but without the yellow lightning bolts or the hood. Which I never liked, anyway. Those wing thingies over his ears made him look goofy.”

Daniel just glared at him with a shake of his head, unable to reply.

A sound like sheets flapping in the wind made them look up. “Show time,” commented Jack softly.

All around them, séréf were appearing out of the night and settling on the stone benches.

As Daniel waited patiently with the others, Sam reached over to hand him her knife, along with the scabbard. He took it and glanced down at his outfit. There was no place to attach it. He started to hand it back, but Jack removed his belt and handed it over, solving the problem. It didn’t go with his outfit, but Daniel didn’t care. He strapped the belt through the scabbard slots and snugly around his waist, tucked the loose end of the belt over and inside, between the belt and tunic, and gave his friends a grateful smile. He turned the knife in his hand to a reverse position, blade tucked up behind his arm, all but out of sight. He was as ready as he was going to get.

“How will we know when the glowy thingies are gone?” Jack asked, leaning past Daniel to look at the Watch Commander. He turned his black baseball cap around on his head in preparation for the event to come.

“Ah! I almost forgot.” She reached into a deep pocket in her long velvet skirt and produced several curved silver strips of metal with a hook on one end and what looked like a cobalt blue glass lens on the other. She handed them out to the Tau’ri who would be watching and put the last one on herself, looping the hook over her left ear and shifting the lens so that it sat just in front of her eye. “With this device, you will see what the séréf see, as with the images in our meeting room. The illuminati will be visible the moment they leave your Daniel’s body.”

Daniel reached for Jack’s eyepiece. They tussled over it a little, and Jack finally let it go. Daniel held it up in front of his glasses, then took off his glasses and tried it without the corrective lenses between himself and the device. He looked around at everyone for a moment, frowned when he didn’t see anything different, and handed it back.

“You can’t see the fireflies in yourself anyway,” O’Neill told him, tapping his temple with one fingertip. “They aren’t in your lap, you know.”

Daniel shrugged and sighed, wishing he could engage in their usual banter.

“We will show you recordings,” Esme offered congenially. She hesitated, her face growing serious. “If you survive.”

Suddenly Daniel didn’t care about séréf vision.

A resounding thump from the center of the arena announced that his opponent had landed. Daniel turned to look at the alien. It was small compared to many of the others he’d seen, but still somewhere in the neighborhood of seven feet tall. Its skin was pale gray, making its eyes appear even darker, and it radiated with a peaceful pale blue glow. Behind it a short, thick tail just touched the ground, where most of the others Daniel had seen had much longer ones. This one, Daniel guessed, must have been quite young, not yet fully grown. Around its waist was a wide belt of what looked like pure gold, but no other clothing.

The séréf waited, still as a statue, for him to come to it.

Daniel glanced up in the stands, looking for the elder Guardian, but it wasn’t there.

“You are not ready?” asked the challenger, its voice the sound of a multitude, as if it spoke for all of those who had come to watch.

The sound of wings above his head made him look up. The old Guardian settled lightly into place behind the humans, and Daniel gave it a smile and a nod. Those dark eyes closed briefly and the elder inclined its head.

I am ready now, Daniel answered, turning to advance closer to the giant alien. Up close, it was huge and damned intimidating. Can you hear me?

It looked at him without emotion and gave him a regal nod. “We do not wish to kill you, little one.”

He swallowed hard and tried to smile, despite the lump in his throat. Nor do I wish to kill you, my friend. Carefully, slowly, he reached out with his free hand and touched its face, radiant and brightly burning without heat. You are beautiful.

“As are you.” It stroked a knuckle across his cheek and backed away. “So it begins.”

It leaped up into the air, flapping its wings and stirring up dust all around him.

Daniel shut out his fear, his mind now attuned to the battle at hand. It fluttered down toward him, then suddenly dropped to its feet and whirled around, striking at him with its tail. He leaped straight up, the tail sweeping harmlessly beneath him. As he landed, he launched himself forward, closing the distance between them. He ducked beneath a clawed hand and brought his blade upward as he danced quickly away, out of range, looking back to assess the damage he’d done.

The alien was slower than he was, and that would work in Daniel’s favor. Just as it was turning to face him, he darted in for another quick slash to its abdomen. It caught him with its forearm, a glancing blow impacting against his back and sending him stumbling away. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, struggling to keep his wits about him as he turned to face his opponent, pain tingeing everything slightly pink.

He sucked in a wheezing breath and sneezed from the dust, ducking just in time to avoid the alien’s fist swinging at his head. He dashed behind it, swiping his blade across its exposed side as he ran. He was much quicker and used that speed to his advantage, darting in and out, slashing its body every time he got in close. When it punched at him, he dodged the strike or spun away so that every contact was never more than a brush of one powerful limb against his body.

Backing away several steps, he panted to try to catch his breath. Five minutes into the battle, he was already flagging. His long period with little rest and his recent injury were taking their toll. The séréf was still fresh and could go on like this for hours, despite the little nicks in its skin, which were steadily weeping a clear, yellowish fluid that served as blood.

Daniel knew he was going to have to take a chance, make some risky moves to try to get in close enough to do some real damage. If he took too long, he’d waste what energy he had and his limbs would eventually cease to obey his mind, leaving him vulnerable to his opponent. He knew that vulnerability might just get him killed. If his opponent landed even a single solid blow against his body, his bones would break. The Guardian wasn’t using its claws yet, doing its best to spare him, but if he annoyed it with too many little stings from his blade, it would start using them.

He decided to stop running and let it come to him. Knees bent, hands in ready position, he waited. The alien cocked its huge head, listening to his thoughts, seeking them out, but he kept his mind blank, letting it make the first move.

It flung itself at him, fist first, in a full body lunge. He saw that giant hand coming straight for his head and at the last moment, dropped down to the ground, landing on his ass. He rounded his back and brought his legs up to provide momentum for a backward shoulder roll. Legs tucked in tightly to his chest, as his right shoulder made contact, and his feet were in position to hit the ground next.  He straightened and pivoted, marking the séréf’s position just a few feet away to his right. He leaped onto its back and sliced quickly under the attachment of its right wing, then sank his blade into the base of its neck.

The creature flipped and flung him off, rising to its feet and reaching over its shoulder for the knife still embedded in its flesh. Its chest was heaving now, obviously in pain. It couldn’t reach the knife, so it just left it there, turning to locate its opponent with gleaming eyes.

Daniel scrabbled backward on hands and knees, putting some distance between them until he could get to his feet.

“Go, Daniel!” shouted Jack, echoed briefly by the voices of the others, who quickly fell silent to keep from distracting the combatants.

Daniel couldn’t look away, couldn’t acknowledge their cheering, which sounded far away as his mind screened them out. He concentrated instead on his hands, reaching for the other knife at his side and withdrawing it from its scabbard.

The séréf hissed in pain and defiance. Its fists uncurled, revealing long, thick fingers tipped with incredibly sharp claws. The alien advanced on him slowly, cautious and more respectful now, studying him.

He had made it take him more seriously, he knew. It faced him as a warrior now, no longer as a clumsy irritation to be easily put down. Its black eyes were narrowed, thoughtful, calculating.

“Well done, little one,” it told him admiringly.

I don’t want to kill you, he repeated urgently. You know I can’t make this easy for you.

“And I can no longer be gentle with you,” the giant responded, circling him. “You are a worthy opponent.”

Daniel turned to keep it in front of him, ever watchful, waiting for its next move. It rushed him, and as he spun away, its claws ripped across his back, leaving bloody trails of fire in his skin. He sucked in a breath, grimacing, mouth opening in a silent scream, but he was still unable to make a sound. He had to ignore the white-hot agony of his wounds and concentrate. He didn’t have much time left and knew it.

Suddenly he wished he didn’t have an audience, not one made up of everyone who cared about him. He could sense the anxiety radiating toward him from where his friends sat watching, preparing to possibly watch him die. Daniel wanted to send them away but couldn’t afford the break in concentration.

He darted in close and sliced across the séréf’s arm with its next lunge. Then he got it in the thigh with another, dancing away, spinning out of range, dodging and ducking as it came at him relentlessly. His legs were starting to burn from exertion; he was going to have to make his move soon.

He feinted to bring it in close and succeeded in making a deep cut across its neck. There was a gush of sticky yellowish fluid, which coated his hand and blade.

The séréf staggered back, one hand clutching at the wound. It hissed at him again but the sound withered away to silence before it finished the cry, its mouth still open, lungs empty. The being stood there trying to breathe, its throat clogged with its own fluids, its body drawing on its secondary, and less efficient, source of oxygen.

They were even now.

He stole a glance at the audience and saw his friends hoping, praying he would survive, bracing themselves for whatever happened. He wanted to spare them the sight of his dying again. They had already been hurt enough. His eyes met Jack’s for the briefest instant before he tore his gaze away, returning his full attention to his opponent.

God! I don’t want to kill you! he screamed at it in his mind. Tears gathered in his eyes, and he blinked them away.

It walked slowly right up to him, an arm’s length away, staring into his eyes. Its hand moved away from its throat and down to its side. Its chest no longer rose and fell with the motion of breathing. Had it been a human being, it would be dead already.

Daniel backed up a few steps, starting to circle around it, eye to eye, ready for anything. He could see its limbs, the slightest shift of weight as it moved onto one leg. He readied himself for a kick, preparing to duck and slice as the challenger’s leg went over him.

Only he had forgotten it had a tail.

With all its strength, the creature pivoted on its right leg and swung its left out low to provide momentum for the turn. Its tail came up and around, impacting Daniel on his side and knocking him down hard on the ground. As soon as it finished the turn, the alien leaped up into the air and came down toward him.

Rolling onto his back, Daniel flipped the knife in his right hand to a forward grip, ready to rip its belly open.

The séréf’s right foot came down first, shattering Daniel’s left thigh and, along with it, his concentration, for a fraction of a second. Breath hissed out of Daniel in a desperate, silent scream, agony paralyzing him. He saw its right hand coming toward his head, fingers folded into a fist, and reacted instinctively with one of Jack’s new tricks. Catching its arm at just the right place near the elbow, he gave it a little push, just enough force to guide that deadly fist past his face and into the ground beside his head.

Dust puffed up in a small cloud, choking him. An instant later, the séréf’s left hand closed around his throat and began to squeeze.

Daniel thrust upward with his knife, seeking a target he couldn’t see, but its body wasn’t in reach. Its face, hovering above his, began to darken against the starry sky behind its head. He jabbed at its arm, thrusting the blade in deep, but the alien yanked its right hand free of the ground and caught his hand, removing his weapon from his grip and flinging it away.

“No!” Jack shouted. “Daniel!”

Other familiar voices were screaming his name, the sound fading away like the roar of the ocean in his ears, drowning out everything.

Darkness filled Daniel’s vision. He closed his eyes and slipped away.

Watching Daniel go down, Jack’s heart was in his throat as he leapt to his feet. The Rouenese device over his eye showed the sparkle of the illuminatus exiting the younger man’s body and entering the séréf but the creature didn’t release its grip immediately. It looked like it was still choking him, still trying to kill him, even though all resistance had vanished.

Surely it could see the illuminatus leaving Daniel! Wasn’t that what this whole ordeal had been about?

“It’s not letting go!” Jack growled, his voice rising as he got to his feet, shouting at the creature. “Let him go you sonofabitch!”

Everyone was on their feet now. Teal’c was already two steps into the arena, running toward the creature. Jack aimed his weapon near the combatants and squeezed off a few rounds, shooting up a spray of dirt around the alien to get its attention.

It let go instantly and straightened, glancing at him over its shoulder, obviously startled by the sudden noise, distracted from its objective.

Then Jack was running across the arena, passing Teal’c and closing in on their fallen comrade with everyone else on his heels.

The séréf – now transformed into a new Guardian – looked down at the man lying so still on the ground. It stepped off Daniel, backing away a few feet, then tilted its head back and put its hand to its ruined throat. Its eyes closed.

Jack jumped over Daniel’s body and dropped to his knees beside his teammate’s shoulders. “Daniel!” he called, shaking him. He tore off the P-90 and dropped it beside him, snatching the alien viewing device off his head and throwing it, his face pale as Doctor Fraiser skidded up to them and dropped to her knees on the other side of Daniel’s body, her equipment bag beside her. “Doc?”

He glanced up at her as she went immediately into physician mode. Jack studied Daniel’s body, noting that his chest no longer rose and fell with breathing. Daniel’s left thigh was dented and compressed, bearing the imprint of that alien footprint on the dark red fabric clinging to his thigh. The sight sickened Jack, but he couldn’t give up hope. Not yet.

Janet pressed her stethoscope to Daniel’s chest, moving the chestpiece around quickly. “No heartbeat. No breath sounds.” She sat up and opened the high collar with ease, then pressed her fingertips against his throat to check for a pulse and shook her head.

Jack reached under Daniel’s neck and tipped his head back, then started to open his mouth to start CPR.

“Wait!” Janet called. Her skilled fingers pressed against Daniel’s throat, palpating quickly from just under the jaw to his collarbones to check if his windpipe had been crushed. “No apparent fractures. Okay, colonel, you do the chest compressions. I’ll do the breathing. Go.” She slipped her finger into Daniel’s mouth to check for obstructions and pull his tongue out of the way, then bent down and sealed his mouth with hers, counting off two breaths.

Jack locked his hands together in the formation he’d been taught and leaned onto Daniel’s chest, starting a count of ten compressions.

A sound went up around them then, a noise like nothing Jack had ever heard, yet so eerily familiar it sent chills down his spine. The sheer volume shook the earth, vibrating like a small quake. It was the most beautiful, terrifying, uplifting chorus Jack had ever heard. It left him breathless and, for a moment, none of the humans moved except for Janet and Jack, still working in perfect concert, counting ten compressions and two breaths, ten and two, check pulse, then ten and two.

He glanced around and saw that the entire audience of séréf were raising their voices in a brief, achingly glorious song of tribute and then fell utterly still and silent, like statues all around the arena, all looking down on them with their solemn, alien faces and glassy obsidian eyes.

Jack’s heart was thundering in his chest as he concentrated on Daniel, keeping the vital count going, looking around in wonder, shaken to the roots of his soul. He saw that Teal’c had dropped to one knee nearby, head bowed, one fist pressing against the ground. He glanced around and saw Carter, wide-eyed and pale, pulling herself together enough to reach up and pull Daniel’s knife free from the new Guardian’s back. Doctor Lee’s face had gone paper white, and he stood halfway across the arena, just turning in a slow circle and staring at the alien audience, his mouth hanging open, eyes wide behind his glasses.

Esme Bien wandered up, her green eyes sliding closed in awe, tears streaming down her cheeks. “They are mourning the loss of one of their own,” she explained. “Never have they paid tribute to a human in this manner.” She looked down at the man on the ground in wonder and said nothing more.

Ten minutes passed. Janet stopped to check her patient periodically, and Jack continued to talk to Daniel, urging him to fight his way back to them. The doctor leaned down to blow into Daniel’s mouth again and, after her second breath, the man coughed, sucked in a deep breath and howled in pain, his body curling up as he reached for his crushed leg and fell back against the dirt, whimpering with every shallow breath.

Janet let out a big sigh of relief. Quickly checking his pulse and respiration, she gave a confirming nod to Jack, sitting back on his heels and waiting for instructions from her. She leaned over Daniel and spoke quietly to him. “Try to lie still, Daniel. I know you’re in a lot of pain, and I’ll give you something for that in just a minute. We’re going to take you home. You’re going to be just fine.”

Daniel’s face was screwed into a grimace of agony. He managed a small nod to assure her that he’d heard her, and struggled to swallow his cries of pain, still gurgling at the back of his throat. His body tensed and wriggled slightly, instinctively trying to find some position of comfort, but there was none.

She looked up at Jack. “Colonel, find me a stretcher. We can use his blanket.” She opened her medical bag and pulled out an IV kit while Jack jogged back to the stands to fetch the blanket.

Janet swabbed a spot on the back of Daniel right hand and slipped the big needle into the vein with expert ease. Tossing packaging left and right, she moved with incredible speed as she taped it down and then hooked up a small bag of lactated ringers’ solution, dangling the bag from a gentle grip between her teeth. She drew up a dose of morphine and drove it home into the IV port.

Mercifully, Daniel succumbed to the effects of the drug, his body going limp with a sigh of relief. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief as Doctor Fraiser informed them all that he was okay, just asleep. She had to explain again when Jack returned with the blanket, after seeing the alarm in his eyes. Jack just gritted his teeth and closed his eyes briefly, his relief palpable.

“Perhaps you should bring him to our world,” Esme suggested. “We may have medical technology you do not.”

“After the cool gadgets we’ve seen so far, I’d say odds on that are high,” agreed Sam.

“Let’s pick up the pace, everyone,” Janet advised brusquely, moving around to Daniel’s other side to slip her hands beneath his damaged thigh. Teal’c helped Carter spread out the blanket and then the four of them carefully moved his limp body onto the cloth. Esme grabbed one corner, the three teammates taking the others, and the group moved swiftly out of the arena, headed for the stargate and Rouen.

“DAMN Jackson, you know how to make a hell of an entrance, too,” Jack said wearily as he walked beside the wheeled hospital bed on which Daniel reclined, headed for home at last after two days of care under the Rouenese medical staff, with Doctor Fraiser looking on and learning. O’Neill glanced up at Carter. “I guess this counts as life number seven, huh?”

Sam smiled down at her injured teammate. “That leaves you with two more, pussycat. It’s a good thing I had Siler take extra pictures of you, Daniel. Looks like you get another photo up on your wall.”

“Do we have to?” groaned Daniel.

“Since I didn’t officially declare you dead, maybe we can skip it,” Janet teased with a smile. She turned to Sam, who walked on the right side of the bed, pushing it along toward the Rouenese stargate dome. “What do you think, Sam?”

She shrugged, still grinning. “The séréf honored you as one of their heroic dead. I’m thinking it counts.” Her eyes grew haunted for a moment as she remembered that chorus on the battlefield. “That song they sang was something… incredible, Daniel. Wish you could’ve heard it.”

He didn’t want to tell her that he had heard it, floating above his body, looking down at them as they worked on him. There was a lot about this particular adventure that would require contemplation on his part, lots of sorting out. Some things, however, were startlingly clear in a way they hadn’t been before going to the séréf homeworld. He smiled softly to himself.

He barely heard Janet rescue her friend with a swift change of subject.

“That biologic fragment transporter was the most amazing device I’ve ever seen. We located every little tiny piece of shattered bone in Daniel’s leg, zapped it back to its rightful place and sealed everything up nice and neat in an internal biodegradable packaging that will hold the bone in place till it knits back together. No cast necessary. Amazing.”

She started to get really graphic with the details of his recent repair, and Daniel chose to shut it out to keep his stomach from protesting. He reclined against the gurney that his friends had used to bring him to that world, grateful for the lack of postoperative pain. He wished he had more time to study Rouen, but he knew he needed to get home to finish his recovery. In a couple of weeks he’d be walking normally again, and a few more weeks after that he’d be back in the field.

Daniel was aware of what the technology of this place had done for him. Had that injury happened on Earth, he’d have lost his leg. The bone had been too shattered to repair by conventional means, but the Rouenese put his Humpty Dumpty back together again with ease. Everyone was excited about potential trade with their new friends, but Daniel felt he had not yet done his part in earning this alliance.

He’d brought the two worlds together, after a fashion, but only by unfortunate accident. He had slept through most of his time there after the return trip from the séréf homeworld, and he wanted to come back again when he could be useful in diplomatic relations. It was a beautiful place, and he wanted to see more of it.

There was also one person in particular he wanted to get to know, but he didn’t have a clue how to find the old man without the Guardians’ help.

He smiled as he thought about the time he’d spent there. Though he’d had only had a few hours with Arneau, his journal had left Daniel with a great many questions about the old man and his relationship with the Guardians. There was so much he wanted to know, and since Arneau was also an historian, he’d be the perfect man to ask. Daniel was fascinated by what they had in common and wanted to take a great deal of time discussing things with the man.

Most of all, he wanted to learn more about the Guardians, the illuminatus and the séréf. That, he knew, could be a lifetime study, but he couldn’t devote the rest of his existence to that, no matter how tempting the idea might be. Arneau could tell him much, could help him piece together the many and varied Earth legends that spawned the mythos of creatures like these.

He remembered the Egyptian griffins, also called séréf, who were the guardians of graves at Beni-Hassan and the ancient Hebrew texts that described the “burning ones,” fairly certain that these were one and the same. The Biblical prophet Daniel had had an experience with similar beings, and Jackson promised himself to look up that barely remembered passage to begin his research once he returned home.

This adventure had been an experienc