THE CROWN OF JANUS

By Lady Grey

Daniel awakened slowly, aware of the quiet and the faint scent of animal, along with a pleasant woodsy perfume, before he even opened his eyes. He took stock of himself and found all his parts where they ought to be, though he was slightly hung over. That brought his last waking memories back with a jolt. 

They’d been on a mission, checking out reports of some strange-looking alien missionaries. Colonel Mitchell had been the lead, and Sam and Teal’c had joined them. They’d needed Daniel for translating, and Vala had had to go with them because of those damned alien bracelets that connected their life-forces together.  

They’d made camp, and it had been Daniel’s turn at watch. 

Vala had brought him some coffee just as he’d started patrolling the perimeter. He hadn’t given it a second thought, even though she’d been smiling when she handed it over. He should have known better. 

Vala had drugged him! Drugged him and hauled him away somewhere by the heels, as he’d faded from consciousness. He remembered the scraping of his backside against the rocky ground without care as she dragged him off. He’d protested as much as he could, but that had been faint and slurred. Whatever she’d put in his coffee had done the trick, and now he was… 

He opened his eyes to see exactly where he was, and realized his glasses were gone. A tan plaster ceiling hung over his head. Sitting up slowly, he examined his surroundings through squinted eyes as he scratched his morning beard. The room was small and quiet, with ornate iron bars over the window and in place of one wall. The other three walls looked to be a couple of feet thick, sturdy whitewashed adobe, with a solid stone floor.  Strange-looking white vines sprang up in various places at the foundation and clung to the walls and ceiling, some even wrapped around the iron bars of his cell and the legs of his bed. The vines had no leaves or flowers, just sinuous ghostly trailers that permeated the room. 

In the corner nearest the bars stood a washstand with a large ceramic bowl and pitcher, his glasses neatly folded on one corner of the stand. In the other corner, near the window, was a tall four-paneled folding screen built of pale, buff-colored wood and covered with white paper, all but blending into the wall. Aside from those things and the bed, there was nothing else in the room. 

The bed on which he lay was a sort of hammock attached to a wooden frame. Beneath him was a huge pelt of thick, soft brown fur, and on top of him was another to keep him warm. It was cold in the cell, and he was shocked to discover that he was completely naked, except for the furs.  

Sudden rage slammed into him, dissolving his curiosity about where the hell he was. 

“Valaaaaaa!” he roared, getting to his feet and wrapping the top covering about his waist. 

The pelt was large and heavy, but very warm. He pulled it up around himself and huddled into it, heated by the fur and his anger, but his feet were turning into popsicles against the smooth rock floor as he hurried to fetch his glasses and shove them on his face with one hand. He stormed over to the iron bars and peered out into the cozy sitting room on the other side of the wall, finding it empty. 

He called out for his kidnapper again, certain he was going to pop an aneurysm the next time he saw her. What the hell did she think she was doing, stealing him in the middle of a mission? What was she planning to do with him, anyway? And where the hell WAS he? 

Small, light footsteps came hurrying toward him, and in seconds a diminutive elderly woman appeared on the far side of the bars. 

“Doctor Jackson, you’re awake!” she remarked cheerfully, her lined face creasing into even more wrinkles as she gave him a bright smile. She was a tiny thing, slight of build and barely up to Daniel’s chest. Her gray hair was plaited into a long braid down to her hips and pulled back from her face with jeweled combs at the sides of her head. Her expression was friendly and warm, and curious amber eyes peered back at him. 

“And you are…?” he asked politely, still wary. Maybe this elderly lady might help him out of his predicament. 

“Mazaheri Donata,” she answered with a graceful curtsey. “You may call me Mazaheri. We bid you welcome to Rimpau. Vala will be with you shortly. I will see to your needs while you are a guest of the goddess. Do you require anything?” She clasped her hands together as she straightened into a relaxed but attentive pose. 

Daniel frowned at her, glancing at the bars unhappily. “Guest?” he said with a note of sarcasm. “Some show of hospitality. And Vala’s NOT a goddess, Mazaheri.” 

A knowing look settled into her lined features. Her voice was soft, and wisdom twinkled in her unusual eyes. “Oh, yes, Doctor Jackson. That she is. Perhaps one day you will see the truth of it.” She unclasped her hands and shifted slightly, as if preparing to leave. “May I get you something? Water, perhaps? A hot meal to take the chill off?” She shivered delicately, hugging herself. “Winter is coming, and already the leaves are falling.” She nodded toward the window. 

At the mention of food, Daniel’s belly growled, and he suddenly realized he needed to pee. Glancing around his cell, he peered behind the folding paper screen, and found a small chair with a hole in the seat that had to be a toilet. He stepped toward it, then hesitated as his stomach protested again. 

“Um, a hot meal would be nice,” he told her distractedly, “and some clothes. And an open door. Please excuse me.” He headed for the screen, stopping just outside it and all but dancing with a now-urgent need. 

Mazaheri curtseyed again. “Such wonderful manners,” she sighed with a smile. “It will be a pleasure to serve you, Doctor. I’ll be right back.” 

She disappeared into the rest of the house and he dropped the fur, pulling the screen around him and turning just in time. Before he was finished, he was shivering. He wrapped up in the pelt again and headed for the washstand he’d seen earlier. He picked up the pitcher with his free hand and started to pour, but nothing came out.  

At least, not at first. A thin film of ice gave way and crashed into the bowl, along with much more water than Daniel had intended, frigid droplets splashing everywhere, including a generous amount on his already-cold bare chest. He cursed inwardly, set the pitcher down and tucked the pelt up under his armpits, holding it in place with his arms against his sides while he washed. By the time he was finished, he thought parts of him were probably blue. He rushed back to the warmth of the bed, glasses in hand. 

He fumed, hating Vala Mal Doran with his whole self while he waited. 

That was when she chose to come into the sitting room. Gone were the BDUs and the boots, but the kor’mak bracelet that bound them together was still fastened around her wrist. Vala was dressed in a loose-fitting, comfortable-looking caftan in a dark, somber burgundy, touched with black around the hem and the ends of the sleeves. Intricate embroidery of white vines, leaves and flowers decorated the neckline and trailed down the middle of the gown, almost to her knees. A silky, braided white rope was tied about her slender waist and her raven-black hair tumbled in shiny curls around her face and over her shoulders. 

She looked… serene. 

“Before you say anything, I know how angry you are with me, and I don’t blame you,” she told him evenly. “I’d be livid, if anyone hauled me off without my permission and locked me up…” She smiled wantonly, and added, “…naked.”  

“Who undressed me?” he demanded. He shoved his glasses on his face, needing to see her clearly. 

Her smile widened. “I did. And I must say, I enjoyed every moment of it. If you know how to use all that, some lucky woman’s in for a real treat.” One dark eyebrow arched in challenge. “Or would that be, some lucky man?” 

Daniel couldn’t help rising to the bait. “Well, a look is all you’re gonna get, Vala. One peek at the goods and nothing more.” 

“Oh, I got a good bit more than that,” she returned saucily, tipping her head back and looking at him from beneath her long lashes, “but I didn’t bring you here to ravish your body, Daniel – as pleasant as that might be. I have something much more lucrative in mind.” 

“I’m not helping you,” he growled, frowning at her with all his might.  

“Then you’ll stay in that tiny, boring little room for the rest of your life,” she tossed back lightly. “Mazaheri will take good care of you, but she won’t let you out until I tell her to. And if I happen to get killed in the practice of my chosen profession—” With a shrug, she glanced down meaningfully at the bracelet on her wrist. 

“Let me out of here, damn it!” 

“After you’ve given me your sworn word that you’ll help me—“ 

“Do what?” he demanded hotly, standing up again, fur wrapped modestly around himself. He stomped over to the bars, regretting that she was out of reach. “Steal treasure?” 

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Find, steal, borrow, whatever. I have one specific thing in mind, but it will take an expert to help me locate and obtain it and the treasure necessary to fund my retirement plan. I may also want to purchase a few little things here and there as well, and will need your bargaining skills to help me know if I’m being swindled. You seem to be quite good at judging the value of artifacts.” She looked a little uncomfortable. “It doesn’t happen often that I end up on the short end of a deal, but it does occasionally, and I can’t afford any more such errors.” 

“No way, Vala,” Daniel snapped. “Now, bring me my clothes and let me out. I’m freezing my ass off in here.” 

She sighed. “And a very fine ass it is, Daniel, but it’ll just have to fall off from disuse, because you’re not getting out of that cell until you’ve given me your word, sworn on all you hold dear.” 

He politely told her to go fuck herself in a language he was certain she didn’t know. 

Vala gave him a smug look and retorted, “I did that last night, if you must know. You rather inspired me.” 

That took him back a little, and he pulled the fur tighter around him, embarrassed now that she had seen him au naturale. He wondered if she’d fondled him, and wouldn’t put such behavior past her. Then he wondered if she’d done anything ELSE to him while he’d been unconscious. 

Suddenly he wanted another cold bath and sank down into the concealing depths of the pelt.  

Just then Mazaheri reappeared with a tray of steaming meats, hearty breads, fruit, and a deep, wide cup of steaming coffee. She slid the tray into an opening specially made for it, and held one end of it for him to receive. “Here you are, Doctor. You should feel much better after a good, hot meal.” 

“I’ll feel better when I can get dressed and go home,” he griped, hurrying over to the bars. “Thank you, Mazaheri. This looks and smells wonderful.” Returning to the bed as quickly as he could, he settled himself under the covers with the tray on his lap, and dug into the delicious food. Daniel continued to watch the two women while he ate, the nourishment warming him up considerably. 

Mazaheri turned to her mistress. “You don’t want to tell him, my lady?” 

Vala glanced away. “In time, perhaps. He isn’t ready to hear any of that yet, my old friend.” 

“Any of what?” Daniel demanded between gulps of delicious coffee which, he realized unhappily, was probably from his own supplies stored in his equipment vest. 

The women exchanged a meaningful glance, and Vala shook her head.  

“Very well, Vala. I shall retire to the sewing room for a time. I must finish your new wardrobes.” Mazaheri curtseyed to her mistress and left them alone again. 

“She respects you,” Daniel observed. “She obviously doesn’t know you very well.” The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He’d meant them to hurt, but that kind of behavior was beneath him, and from the way her expression closed, he knew he’d hit his mark. He didn’t like the mean streak she brought out in him, but she aroused such intense feelings, he couldn’t control his mouth whenever he was around her.  

Vala came up to the bars and began to play with them idly, her face carefully neutral.  “Mazaheri has known me for a very long time,” she returned softly. “She has also been instructed not to answer any of your questions about our history together, so you needn’t ply her with your considerable charms to get information from her.” 

“All I want, Vala, is to go home.  I have work to do.  I’m trying to help save my people.” 

She tossed her head back, gazing coolly down her nose at him. “Well, you can’t go home, Daniel. I left your GDO behind in the camp. There’s no way back to the SGC, so it looks like you’re stuck here with me.” 

“There are other ways to get there,” he told her, after the shock of her announcement wore off. “I can go to one of our allied worlds and send a message to the SGC. They’ll come get me.” 

“Not if they think you’re dead.” Her gaze was steady and chilling. “Especially not if they think we’re both dead.” 

Daniel felt the blood drain from his face. “You didn’t.”  

She just stared at him, one fine, dark brow arching in emphasis. “I’m capable of any deception, Daniel, when there’s something I want at stake. Never forget that.” 

He couldn’t tell if she was pulling another fast one or telling him the truth. He could never be certain with Vala, and that was part of what disturbed him about her. She was scorching hot one moment, ice-cold the next. He could never trust her – she had proven that to him over and over – but she was also whip-smart and devious as the devil himself. She really was capable of anything. 

Maybe he ought to just get whatever she wanted done – anything to get out of that cell and enable him to have a shot at escape. 

“How long are we talking?” he asked with a potent frown. 

“A few weeks, perhaps; months, maybe.  That depends on how quickly you work.” Her expression softened. 

“Let me see your list.” He got up and strolled over to the bars. 

She pulled a folded piece of paper out of the bodice of her gown and handed it through the bars to him. 

The paper was still warm, and he noted that the first item, ‘Lots of Treasure,’ was written in English, ‘the Crown of Janus’ in Goa’uld. Daniel suspected that probably belonged to some minor Goa’uld. Depending on how Vala intended to get her unspecified treasure, where it was kept, and what kind of guards stood over it, this could be a pretty open-ended deal. He couldn’t imagine any treasure would be easy to steal, but if he at least agreed to help her, somewhere along the way an opportunity to escape might present itself. 

Somehow, he’d find his way home, but he had to at least pretend to cooperate to have that chance. 

“If I promise to help you, how can I be sure you’ll let me go when I’ve earned my freedom?” he asked, studying her with narrowed eyes. 

Vala reached into the pocket of her caftan and pulled out a small, flat object. It looked rather like a butterfly, stamped out of a sheet of thin, dark, rainbow-colored metal. She held it up between them where he could see it. 

“This is an interesting little device called a nakia, invented by one of my people as a method of ensuring such promises were kept,” she announced. “I’ve seen it work, so I know there aren’t any hidden surprises, like with these stupid bracelets.”  She held up her arm and balefully eyed the device that connected them like a lifeline, preventing them from being separated from each other by time or distance. 

Daniel eyed the intricate, benign-looking framework of the item on her palm. “How does it work?” 

“It’s very simple,” she explained. “There’s a voice-print embedded in its circuitry. I record my promise, thus.”  She held it a little closer to her mouth. “I promise to release you from your bondage to me after we collect the items on my list.” 

She slipped her arm through the bars of his cell. “Now it’s your turn.” She held it out, wagging her hand at him. “Well, go on.” 

He backed up, not trusting her at all.  “You haven’t specified a limit to the fortune you intend to collect, aside from this ‘Crown of Janus’ thing.  That’s a little too vague for me.  No deal.” 

“Oh, come on, Daniel. Stop being a baby,” she chided, frowning at him. “I have a specific goal in mind, and once we reach that, the device will respond and cross it off the list.  It needs your voiceprint to effect completion. Just say you’ll carry out your end of the bargain as well, then I slap this thing on my chest, and we’re done. If I renege, I die. It’s that simple. The device stops my heart. It’s a quick and painless death. I don’t want to suffer, nor do I intend to keep you any longer than absolutely necessary, because I have no intention of dying until I’m very, very old and very, very rich.” 

Daniel backed up some more. 

Vala expelled an impatient breath. She opened the neckline on her gown and applied the nakia to her chest, where it seemed to melt into her skin. “There, is that better? Will you record your half of the promise now?” 

He weighed his options and didn’t see any obvious way out.  “All right,” said Daniel vaguely. 

She waited. She tapped her foot and grabbed onto the bars. “Say the whole thing, Daniel. ‘I, Daniel Jackson, promise to help Vala obtain her treasures—‘” 

“It doesn’t do anything to me?” he asked warily. 

“Do you see more than one of these things?” she shot back, spreading her hands wide to show her empty palms. She pushed her chest closer to the bars. “Just say the words so I can let you out of there.” 

“And if I don’t?”  

“Then the nakia falls off on its own tomorrow morning and nothing happens to me.” 

“Not even a mild electric shock?” 

“Nothing. And you stay in that tiny room with nothing to do until you go mad from boredom, Daniel. That shouldn’t take long at all.” 

The thought of spending even a day without a book to read, pen and paper to write down his thoughts, some artifact to study or other entertainment spiked a chill of cold fear through his heart. He approached the bars, tightening his grip on the fur that was his only protection from the cold.  She had him, and he knew it.  He hated her for it. 

“I promise to help you,” he said quickly. 

The nakia began to glow. Vala gasped, clutching at the bars, grimacing. She looked like she was in pain.  

Daniel hurried toward the bars and reached out to her, calling her name in concern. The fur drooped a little on one side, exposing fully half his chest. The alien device shot out a beam of rainbow-colored light, slamming into Daniel’s chest and knocking him backward. He staggered, watching in horror as an identical pattern began to etch itself into his skin.  

“Oh, shit,” he gasped, staring down at himself.  

The light faded, and the emblem on his chest cooled quickly.  He lifted his gaze from his chest to her smug, triumphant grin. 

“Gotcha,” she murmured happily, and winked at him. 

Daniel snapped. Reason fled. He rushed the bars, dropping the pelt and grabbing at her with both hands as she danced away on nimble toes. 

“You lying bitch!” he roared. “Get over here!  I’ll tear your throat out!” He growled, clawing at her as far as his arms would reach, trying to force his body sideways between the bars to get just an inch more distance. 

Vala laughed, remaining just past the ends of his fingertips. “Oh, Daniel. You don’t know the half of it.” She waggled her eyebrows at him, grinning like an imp.   

He gritted his teeth and whipped around, gathering the cover around himself again, fuming and muttering curses under his breath in several languages. 

From her pocket, she pulled a small remote control and unlocked the cell door with a single push of a button.  

He whirled around at the sound and stared at the open doorway, and the bitch-goddess scoffing at him from the other side. He’d probably be safer if he just stayed in captivity, but his mind was already searching for a way out of this latest mess into which she’d hauled him. 

“Looks like we’re stuck with each other,” she teased lightly. “You keep your half of the bargain, or you die, too. Honor among thieves, and all that.” She waved a dismissive hand in the air. 

“And when we’re done, I’m going to take great pleasure in killing you with my own two hands,” he growled, glowering. 

“You’ll have to catch me first,” she teased brightly, flipping her hair back over her shoulder flirtatiously. “Besides, you can’t do anything to me as long as we’ve got this stupid umbilicus stretching between us.”  She shook her arm, making the kor’mak bracelet around her wrist jiggle slightly.   

“Come on. Let’s get you out of that caveman garb and into something a bit more stylish.”  She quirked a grin at him, cocked an eyebrow, mischief twinkling in her dark eyes.  “Although that outfit does have its charm.”   

Frowning so deeply his facial muscles hurt, Daniel stomped after her, out of the “guest” wing of the house, contemplating the life of crime he’d just signed on to complete. Righteous indignation warred with fear and fury inside him, but already he was putting every available resource into finding a way out of the trap she’d so neatly set for him. 

Vala showed him to a bathroom with a small fireplace to take the chill off, and gave him some privacy while he freshened up.  A bath had already been drawn for him, and he soaked up the blissful warmth, wrapping up afterward in a thick black robe that went down to his ankles, slipping on a pair of thick stretchy socks to ward off the chill from the stone floor. He wandered through the house, searching for the women and investigating his accommodations until he found himself in a small living area in the lower corner of the house, just above a narrow street, barely more than a flagstone path.   

Mazaheri’s home was rather small, built on several levels on the face of a cliff.  From the balcony outside her living room, through clouds of his warm breath in the frigid air, he could see that the entire city was terraced along the steep slope.  Narrow tracks in front of buildings traversed in switchbacks down the face of the mountain, finally flattening out in a green meadow cut by a rushing, many-branched stream far below them.  The grassy area winked like a green jewel set in a network of fine silver.  

The architecture of the city was a jumble of everything: simple adobe huts nearby, to grand castles off in the distance; ancient Egyptian limestone just up the slope, to neo-modern glass and steel further down.  It seemed every culture and period of human history was represented by at least one building, some of similar types clustered together into neighborhoods nestling up against something completely different.  He’d never seen anything like it in all his explorations. Part of Daniel was itching to go out and explore, but first he needed his clothes. 

Vala returned and led Daniel into a large, airy room on the street side of the house, the front of which was covered by a heavy curtain moving in the wind, heated by a large, open fireplace set into the back wall. Along the other walls were bolts of an incredible array of fabrics in every imaginable color and pattern.  Racks of finished clothing stood in neat rows in the middle of the room, leaving just enough space for shoppers to browse casually among ready-made items or study the bolts of cloth to choose something more unique.  

Mazaheri sat working at a table near the entrance.  She smiled when she saw him enter the shop room. “Greetings, Doctor Jackson. I hope you’re feeling refreshed.” 

“Yes, thank you,” he returned pleasantly, smiling back at her. 

Daniel glanced around, but didn’t see his BDUs anywhere.  “Where are my clothes?” he murmured to his new partner, frowning at her as he leaned closer. 

Vala’s dark blue eyes twinkled at him.  “Mazaheri took them apart to get your measurements,” she told him gaily.  “You won’t be able to wear those ugly things in most of the places we’re going, anyway.  She’s making you a wardrobe to help you blend in with the natives.  As much as you can blend in, anyway.” 

He glowered at her, instantly suspicious.  “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

She chuckled and didn’t answer.  “Here, these are for you.”  Vala strolled over to a table where Mazaheri sat, her nimble fingers working a needle and thread along the cuff of a black tunic.   

The old woman’s eyes carried a glint of gentle humor, and she smiled at the garment she was making. 

Vala handed him a thick stack of material in royal blue and black, offering her own smile.  “These will suit you much better than those awful BDUs.  That does stand for Boring, Dreadful Uniforms, right?” 

“Battle Dress Uniforms,” he corrected, glaring at her and tucking the stack beneath one arm. He pulled the black robe tighter about him.  “Where are my boots?” 

“Oh, those tacky things won’t do,” Vala announced. 

Mazaheri grinned and nodded in agreement.  “Under the table, dear,” she told him, nodding downward.  “I believe those will be your size.”  She stilled her needle for a moment and reached across the table to a folded square of charcoal gray cloth shot with fine white filaments.  “This is also for you, Daniel.  You’ll need a cloak to keep out the cold.” 

He reached for the boots, smiled as he thanked her, and promised to return for the cloak once he was dressed.  He carried the clothes back to his cell, making sure the barred door stayed open, and secreted himself behind the folding screen to put on his new outfit.  He regretted having to go commando, especially since he’d been given black leggings that fit so closely they revealed everything he had, his personal bits barely covered by the skirt of the blue tunic.  The boots were tall, coming halfway up his thighs, then folding down almost to his knees in a wide cuff.   

Being dressed made him feel better, and the material was soft and warm.  He returned to Mazaheri’s shop-room, taking note of the look of surprise on Vala’s face as she examined the cloak Mazaheri had made for him.  A white fur collar lay at the base of the hood, and Vala petted it.   

“How come he got this, and I didn’t?” she demanded softly, leaning close to their hostess. 

Mazaheri merely chuckled and shrugged. “The decision wasn’t mine,” she answered cryptically. “You’ll have to ask the Old One.” 

Vala seemed a little envious, and Daniel found himself right pleased that Mazaheri had apparently made his apparel a little better than Vala’s.   

So much for her stature as a goddess in Mazaheri’s eyes, he thought smugly. 

He crossed the room and held out his hand for the cloak. 

Vala stroked the fur once more, then reluctantly gave it to him, donning her own cloak – a plain one in bright red with black embroidered trim. 

Daniel put the garment around his shoulders, pleased to note it was also fur-lined on the inside, and fastened the silver catch at his throat.  He lifted the hood and settled the cloth around him, noting how quickly it warmed.  Absently, he stroked the soft white fur over his shoulders, surprised at its apparent weightlessness.  He sniffed at it, finding its scent sweetly floral, rather than the musky animal smell he’d been expecting. “Wow. This is very nice.”  He turned to his hostess and gave her a slight bow and a warm smile. “You do excellent work, Mazaheri. The clothes are beautiful.” 

The old woman laughed brightly, obviously pleased with his compliment. “Oh, no wonder Vala’s so taken with you! If I were forty years younger…”  She shook her head, glancing between them, her face creased in a wide grin, golden eyes twinkling. “You’re quite welcome, Doctor Jackson. I hope you’ll enjoy them.” 

“Come with me,” Vala told him, giving his shoulder a little push.  She bowed to Mazaheri.  “We thank you, old friend.  Don’t wait up for us tonight.  My Daniel has much to see.” 

The old woman rose, bowed to her, and returned to her seat, resuming work on another garment. 

“I’ll take good care of my clothes,” Daniel added hurriedly.  “The cloak is especially warm.”  He smiled at her, and then Vala was tugging him away by the wrist. 

He jerked out of her grasp, glowered at her again, and followed her outside, through the curtained front of Mazaheri’s shop. The air was frosty cold but clear. Their breath made little clouds, and crystals of frost glittered in the shady spots on the ground.   

Daniel wished for a pair of gloves, tucking his hands beneath his armpits to keep them warm. Vala didn’t even glance at him as she produced gloves for each of them from somewhere inside her cloak. He hurried to put them on as Vala started down the narrow path outside the shop.   

He turned to get a look at the house from the street, memorizing its appearance so he could find it again.  The exterior of the cloth wall looked like a movie screen, with the images of completed fashions and various fabrics in an ever-changing parade of images flowing across its surface. That was some serious technology; he hadn’t expected that from the inside of the house, and wondered what else this planet might have in store. 

“Advertising?” he asked, thoroughly surprised. 

“Exactly,” she answered.  “The display runs only as long as she’s open for business.  It goes dark when the shop is closed.” 

“Wow.” 

He glanced around at the various shops they passed, wandering down the steep track toward what appeared to be a marketplace well below them.  They passed various clothing shops, places where cooking utensils and tools could be had. There were shops where weavers, woodworkers, metallurgists, armorers and jewelers plied their various trades.  Daniel noted that Vala cast longing glances as they passed some of the shops with their glassed-in fronts, but she didn’t tarry. 

“Not many people know about Rimpau,” she admitted as they walked.  “It’s a jealously guarded secret, and not everyone who comes here is allowed to return.” She hesitated, her expression suddenly serious. “And not everyone who comes here is allowed to leave.” 

“What’s so special about it?”  Daniel’s mind was spinning, classifying the architecture of each building they passed, the clothing styles of each person they met on the path, placing everyone and everything into niches from the earliest recorded civilizations to some that seemed completely alien.  This was seemingly a place without time, where past and future merged into one continuous present.  It was intoxicating.  He thought he could live the rest of his life here and never have enough time to study all of it. Adventure and discovery waited around every corner. 

Still, Vala knew secrets about this amazing city, and he was dying to learn them himself. 

“I’m sure you’ve noticed already that there are people here from many of the worlds you’ve already visited,” she told him, gesturing toward a Minoan couple from the Land of Light conversing with a handful of Cimmerian Vikings.  Standing with them was a wizened old man in the middle of the group dressed in Abydonian robes, who appeared to be one of the few survivors of that destroyed world.  “This is the marketplace of the galaxy, Daniel; the only place I know of where one need never fear for their lives, and where every deal is an honest one.  Most of the people you’ll find here are thieves, murderers and mercenaries wanted on a dozen worlds, but here every man’s word is his bond, because none dares risk the wrath of Rimpau.” 

Daniel’s head turned right and left, scanning for landmarks he could use to find his way around.  The city was a maze, and he could imagine himself easily getting lost if he weren’t paying attention.  Houses and shops were narrow, stacked up on top of and closely beside one another, as if there had been no attempt at city planning, every building constructed on a whim. 

“Is that the name of the city or the planet?” he asked, barely paying attention, his mind too busy trying to take in everything, including the wisps of her conversation. 

“Both,” she told him.   

“I don’t get it,” he challenged.  “Who does the enforcing?  How can anyone be assured of their safety, or the honesty of others?  How can the city demand it?” 

Vala’s dark eyes were filled with secrets.  “You’ll see,” she answered enigmatically.  “Right now, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” 

He sneered at her.  “Magic, I suppose?” 

She smiled at him, but there was a trace of sadness in it.  She seemed to want him to trust her, but he’d learned by previous experience not to do that.  “No, Daniel.  Something that will make you question what you know about the universe.  You aren’t ready for it yet.” 

He snorted slightly, insulted by her lack of faith in his intellect, but let the subject drop for the moment. 

They passed by a curved, pink granite wall, filling the space between a knife and sword shop and a pottery shed.  Vala paused and reached into a bowl-like depression surrounded by those weird white vines that seemed to be everywhere.  From the bowl, she withdrew two small, azure fruits, covered with soft white fuzz.  “These are found only here on this world, Daniel.  Have a taste. They’re the rarest delicacy in the galaxy.” 

He shot her a wary glance.  “And they’re available free of charge to anyone who wants them?” 

“Only to those who come to Rimpau as an invited guest,” she corrected.  “The fruits aren’t to be taken off world. Visitors learn better than to even try to smuggle them off.”  She bit into one, her white teeth making quick work of the juicy, seedless delight.  Vala dabbed at her chin delicately with her red cloak.  “Just don’t eat too many of them, or you’ll be sick.  They’re quite rich. Highly nutritious.” 

Daniel took the proffered fruit and sniffed it.  The scent of roses and cotton candy made his mouth water, and he carefully took a test nibble.  It was the most delicious thing he’d ever eaten, and he took a step toward the bowl to look for more. 

Vala put out her hand to stop him.  “That’s all for now,” she told him.  “This is your ticket back, should you wish to return here without me.  The Eye of Rimpau remains closed to all but those who have been here before. Incoming wormholes are scanned for the signature of the fruit, and those without it aren’t allowed to enter, rather like the iris on your stargate at the SGC. The only way in is as a guest of someone who’s been here with permission to return.” 

“The Eye of Rimpau?” 

She started off down the path again, towing him along, her arm linked in his.  “Iris, eye; same thing. Since I’ve been here before, I was able to bring you with me.  Now you’re free to come here whenever you like.  Just remember to indulge your appetite for the fruits regularly each time you’re here.”  She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and handed it to him.  “Here are the glyphs and dialing sequence.” 

Daniel took a moment to memorize the address and stuffed the paper into the waistband of his leggings.  

The scent of roasting meat, perfumes and spices announced their arrival at the outskirts of the marketplace.  People crowded in closer as the path became less steep and the streets widened.  Daniel couldn’t help looking around, not wanting to miss anything, excited by the wonder and variety of this place.   

He spotted the Goa’uld, Zipacna, accompanied only by a pair of Jaffa bodyguards. Daniel bristled but kept quiet, not taking his eyes off the alien.  No misplaced air of godhood accompanied the sleazy underlord here; he seemed rather ordinary, in fact, and spoke with the slightest touch of courtesy to a vendor in one of the stalls.  When his bargain was made, Zipacna paid for the jewelry personally and went on his way with his escorts.   

Daniel was stunned by the exchange.  “I’m very interested in how the peace is kept here.”  He turned to Vala for an explanation.  “It can’t just be the honor system, because some people,” he nodded toward the departing Goa’uld and his servants, “have no honor.  C’mon.  Give me a chance.  Bet I understand just fine.” 

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.  Cocking her head, she agreed, “All right, Daniel,” Vala told him.  “Let’s see how open-minded you really are.”   

She gestured around them, pointing out the white vines that traveled up the walls of every shop and dwelling.  “See those? They’re the sensory material of Rimpau.  There’s no place on this world where she isn’t aware of everything that happens.  That’s why there’s no crime here, because Rimpau is judge, jury, and, when necessary, executioner.”  She reached out to stroke the nearest tendrils climbing up a stone wall.  “This planet is alive, Daniel.  Rimpau is a sentient being, watching the story of all our lives while we’re here with her.  If anyone intentionally harms another person, Rimpau bears witness.  If anyone dares cheat another, Rimpau will know, and her wrath is a terrible thing.  She’s not very forgiving.” 

“She?” 

Vala chuckled.  “Yes, Daniel. Rimpau is female.” 

He tried to wrap his mind around the notion of a planet-sized creature, one with its own stargate.  The thought made him dizzy, and while he wanted to believe Vala because the concept was so fascinating, he dared not – at least, not completely. He gave her a roll of the eyes and shook his head.  “Yeah, right.  That’s an interesting idea, but I’ll wait for the truth.  Maybe I can get it from Mazaheri.” 

Vala gestured with an open hand toward a tavern doorway, accepting his disbelief without argument.  “Shall we?”  Without waiting for a reply, she headed inside the simple stone hut. 

For a moment, Daniel stood alone in a sea of strangers.  Still trying to rationalize this latest tale of hers, he strolled into the tavern, his nose instantly assailed with the scents of a variety of fermented beverages and cooking food. At a rough-hewn stone table toward the back, he spied Vala’s red cloak and made his way toward her.  

As he arrived, a young man with whom she had been talking rose and stalked off, giving Daniel a fierce glare.   

“Who was that?” Daniel asked as he sat down in the vacant chair across from Vala. 

“Someone who carries a great deal of anger, and rightly so.  His are an unfortunate people.  They’re called Arisians, and they’ve been slaves of the Goa’uld for generations.” 

Daniel glanced back at the table just in time to see Vala cover a small blue object with her hand, pull it off the table and secret it in her robes.  

“What are you hiding?” he demanded. 

“None of your business,” she returned stiffly.  “Did you enjoy your tour?” 

“Very much, thank you,” he answered politely.  “I don’t suppose you know how we might go about getting a meal here, would you?  What’s the local currency?” 

“I have enough to get by,” said Vala.  She glanced at a slender young man dressed in a well-padded tunic fitted tightly to his chest, his midriff bare and a jewel winking in his navel.  He looked to be in his very early twenties or late teens.  “Kitsos, we’re thirsty,” she called to him. 

The blond youth smiled and came to their table.  “Vala, it’s a pleasure, as always,” he greeted her warmly.  He bent down and kissed her cheek, and she patted the hand he placed lightly on her shoulder.  Glancing at Daniel, he offered a slight bow, then addressed Vala again.  “Whatever you want is on the house, Sister.”   

Daniel raised his eyebrows in question, since there was absolutely no family resemblance between them.  Where she was dark, he was fair.  She was tall and slender; he was more muscular, but hardly manly.  In fact, the more Daniel studied him, the less certain he was that this youth was male.  He was pretty in an almost feminine way, and wore his hair long around his face and shoulders. Even his voice was androgynous, soft and sibilant, neither deep nor high-pitched, mellifluous and pleasant to the ear. 

He gazed up into penetrating blue eyes now measuring him just as closely.   

“What can I get for you, honey?” the server asked. 

“Kitsos, this is Doctor Daniel Jackson, lately of the First World,” Vala stated formally.  “Daniel, this is Kitsos.  He belongs to that dangerous-looking fellow behind the bar, so be careful what you say to my darling boy.  No flirting allowed.”  She grinned and winked at Daniel. 

Her use of the male noun gave Daniel a direction for his thoughts, and he glanced over at the bartender.   

That guy looked more like he might be related to Vala, with chestnut brown hair and dark eyes, but tall like Jack, and with a similar lean but muscular build.  The bartender was an attractive man, but surveyed the room with a suspicious gleam in his eyes.  Daniel got the sense that the man could do quite a bit of damage, if he wanted. 

Daniel dragged his gaze back to the waiter, extending his hand in friendship.  “Pleased to meet you, Kitsos.  I’ve apparently been brought here to line Vala’s pockets.  She made me a deal I literally couldn’t refuse.”  He turned to look daggers at his hostess, scratching at the butterfly device beneath his tunic that now felt as if it were part of his chest. 

“My fortune is always foremost in my mind,” she assured him glibly. 

Kitsos chuckled.  “And your money’s no good here, Vala.  Save it for something worthwhile.” 

“Like a tiara?” Daniel suggested, his brows tugging down into a frown.  He glanced up at Kitsos.  “You called Vala ‘sister.’  Do you know anything about her, who she really is?  Where she comes from, that sort of thing? I seem to have a little trouble separating truth from lies with her.” 

A glance passed between Kitsos and Vala, and the youth’s expression smoothed into something carefully neutral.  “I met her here about a year ago.  She’s beautiful, isn’t she?  But not my type.”  He broke into a broad smile, revealing perfect white teeth and big dimples.  “She’s fun, though. You’ll have to give her that.” 

“Oh, she’s a hoot,” Daniel agreed sourly. “What do people drink around here?  I feel like tying one on.” 

“Tying one what onto what?” asked Kitsos, blinking innocently. 

“Getting drunk,” Daniel explained. 

“Ah.”  Kitsos nodded, a slow smile spreading to his eyes.  “I know just the thing.  Are you hungry?” 

“I am,” Vala told him.  “Daniel had a taste of Mazaheri’s cooking earlier, so he might not be.” 

“Well, if he’s going to drink the Blue, he’s going to have to eat a little something first.” 

Vala’s eyes widened as she stared up at Kitsos.  “The Blue?  Don’t you think he should work up to that?” 

“What’s the Blue?” asked Daniel. 

Kitsos shrugged.  “Well, if he really wants to forget himself for a little while, the Blue is just the thing.” He turned to Daniel to explain. “It’s made from the fermented fruit of Rimpau. Most potent brew there is. Sometimes just a whiff is enough to intoxicate.” 

“You’ll have to help me get him home if he has any of that,” said Vala to the waiter.  “What time are you getting off?” 

Daniel was starting to feel a little alarmed.  “Maybe I should wait on this Blue thing.  What else have you got that gives a nice buzz?” 

With a smile, Kitsos left them and returned to the bar to place their order.  The bartender’s expression softened as he gave Vala a nod of recognition, then began pouring drinks for them.  The blond brought them back as soon as they were ready, and then disappeared into the kitchen to fetch Vala some food. 

“Bottoms up,” said Vala, lifting her glass toward Daniel. 

“What’s this?” he asked, sniffing the vibrant emerald liquid.  It had a faintly fruity smell with an alcohol bite. He watched Vala knock her glass back and down it in one swallow, then followed suit.  It burned all the way down, making him cough and gasp. 

“We just call it Green,” she answered.  “You should feel it right about now.” 

He did.  The warmth in his belly went straight to his head, making his senses swim for a moment.  It was rather like an IV Benadryl rush, sudden and potent, but without the sleep-inducing residual effect. He felt quite pleasantly messed up, and decided he liked Green. 

Daniel stood up, intending to go to the bar and order another drink.  He sat right back down and grinned, his head spinning.  “This is a nice ride,” he announced happily, his earlier funk now fading quietly away.  “I think I like it. Order me another one.” 

“Good,” said Vala with a smile.  “One is all you need, Daniel.  Take my word on that.” 

They spent the rest of the evening eating, talking about all sorts of strange things, and stumbling about the city together.  As the sun began to set, they returned to Mizaheri’s house, where Vala parked Daniel in the bed where he’d awakened in that morning.  He didn’t even get his glasses off before closing his eyes, and as soon as his lids were lowered, he was asleep. 

He had just stepped through the stargate, all alone.  The ‘gate was in a cave lit with blue-green phosphorescence on the cavern walls.  Not far away stood a massive stone chair, white vines growing up out of the floor clinging to it and making a fine, spidery web over the seat.  Beneath that veil sat a woman, only her head and hands extending from the net. 

She was ancient, her hair long and silvery-white, seeming to merge with the vines.  Her lined face was soft and kind, somehow familiar.  As Daniel approached, he realized she looked very much like his mother might have, had she lived.  He was drawn to her and couldn’t help smiling back. 

“Hello,” he said softly, stopping near the foot of the throne. “Do I know you?” 

“Greetings, Bright One,” the woman said cheerfully.  There was something innately regal about her, though he could see little of her and, aside from her head, she didn’t appear to move. 

“I’m Daniel,” he offered warmly. 

“And I am Rimpau.” 

That surprised him a little, and he guessed it must have shown on his face. 

“You did not believe Vala, but she spoke truth.”  The old woman lifted a hand from the arm of her chair, glanced down at her body and swept her fingers gracefully toward it.  “This is merely illusion, to give you comfort as we open a dialogue with one another.” 

Daniel glanced around him, aware of a sense of something not quite right, not quite real.  “Am I…?” 

“Dreaming?” she finished for him, and nodded.  “Yes. It is only in this state that I can communicate with most who visit me.”  She cocked her head.  “But you are different, my Daniel, and if you listen closely, you will hear me even while waking.  You are one of the Ancient ones.” 

Intuition kicked in.  “Not anymore.  I didn’t believe in the same things they did.” 

“You are still an advanced being,” she added with certainty, “and a man of action. Your passions burn brightly; sometimes too much so.”  She chuckled.  “I, however, do not see this as a fault, but a virtue.” 

“Thank you, I think,” he responded uncertainly.  He liked her, and it was obvious that she liked him, too.  “So, you’re really a planet?  A sentient planet?” 

“I am alive, aware of myself and all those who live upon me,” she answered simply, “but I do not think you can fully understand the whole of what I am, not while you are in mortal form.” 

Nodding, Daniel agreed.  “I’m sure you’re right.”  He shifted forward, intending to squat down into a more comfortable position, but just as he started to move, she rose from her chair, her webbed gown moving with her, detaching and reattaching to the ground as she stood and stepped away. He straightened and held out a hand to help her. 

“Please come with me, Bright One.”  She gestured toward the mouth of the cave and walked out with him. 

The city lay below them, terraced in a maze of streets and buildings.  It was just past dawn in the dream, and the buildings on the higher slopes of the mountain were painted in a rosy glow, those farther down the mountain still cast in blue and purple shadows.  People were moving about, opening shops and running errands, starting their day. 

“You will need a place of your own, where you can find peace,” Rimpau told him, gesturing toward the city.  “You will not be happy for long in Mazaheri’s little home.  Where would you like your dwelling?” 

His brows twitched downward, and he noticed he wasn’t wearing his glasses.  He never wore glasses in his dreams.  “Um, I’m not sure what you mean.  I don’t think we’re planning to be here long.  Vala has—“ 

He glanced down at his chest and saw the butterfly device glistening like a liquid tattoo on his body. 

“I know Vala’s plans,” Rimpau assured him.  “You will be leaving soon, this is true; but you will return.  For as long as you are Vala’s hunter, you will live here, between your searches on other worlds.  You will need your own space, with a place for your books.  Please choose one that suits you.” She gestured toward the city, sweeping all around them. 

He was dreaming, after all, so he decided to just go with the idea.  “I don’t have any books at the moment, but okay.”  He stepped a little farther out of the mouth of the cave, glancing around for an empty spot.  There weren’t many in the city below; available space was higher up the mountainside, where the snow never melted.   

Nearby, nestled into a shallow crevice in the mountain, a single small house stood alone.  The path to its doorway curled down the slope, passing the mouth of the cave.  It looked private and charming, and as he watched, he saw two people step out onto the stone porch.  He recognized them as the blond waiter and the bartender from the tavern where Vala had taken him earlier. 

It barely registered that they were too far away for him to actually recognize them. In his dream, he could see them clearly, regardless of the distance. “That looks like a nice place,” Daniel observed, nodding toward the crevice.  “Maybe something in their neighborhood.” 

Rimpau lifted her hands and little white sparkles appeared in mounds in her palms.  “Show me,” she urged him.  “Build your house, Daniel.”  She moved her hands apart and the white sparkles remained hanging in the air, like a pile of floating snow.  

Tentatively, he reached out and touched the stuff.  It molded around the tip of his finger like mashed potatoes, cool and warm all at the same time.  He spread the substance out horizontally and gave some thought to what he’d need for living space, drawing out a floor plan on the flat surface.  He started to get into it, forming the sparkly flakes into upright walls with windows.  His library had shelves that filled with tiny books with the power of a thought.  He built fixtures and furniture, and almost as an afterthought, he pushed the bedroom floor out and made himself a beautiful curved balcony where he could enjoy the first morning light from his bed.  

When he finished, he felt weary but satisfied, as if he had accomplished a great deal in a brief period of time. 

He’d had fun, and thanked Rimpau for it. 

She bowed to him, took the sculpture and blew on it.  The design floated out and away, curving around the side of the cave’s opening, heading for the other residence on the mountainside.  It was a trick of perspective, but instead of getting smaller as it moved farther away, it didn’t change much in size.  When it settled into place on the mountain just above the other house, it looked full-sized. 

Daniel saw the slope alter, steep curved steps seeming to carve themselves out of the rock leading from Daniel’s new front door to the path below, joining the walkway from the couple’s home down into the city.  Daniel’s house was directly above theirs, his balcony overshadowing their front entry. 

“That looks great, but won’t the neighbors be upset with that arrangement?” he asked hesitantly.  “I might be, if I had that nice a spot and suddenly had a house set on top of mine.” 

“It will be a good arrangement,” Rimpau promised.  “You will become very important to both of them, Daniel.  It is your destiny.” 

“Kitsos seems nice. I’m not so sure about his boyfriend, though.” 

“Kitsos must be protected,” she told him, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.  “That one is sacred and rare in the universe, and Constant is his protector.” 

“Constant?” 

“That is the name of the one whom the Gahdin one loves.” 

“Oh?” Daniel was instantly intrigued. He wanted to know more. “What’s a Gahdin?” 

Rimpau took his hand in hers, and they were warm and soft.  “Kitsos is as much female as male, Daniel; able to father children with others and yet bear them himself.  You must tell no one this secret, for there are those who would destroy him, if they knew he is Gahdin. His companion watches over him, to keep him safe, for when he is able to return to his people.” 

That explained that androgynous air Daniel had sensed when he’d first met the youth. “Thank you for your confidence, Rimpau,” he said quietly.  “I promise I’ll keep this to myself.” 

He smiled at her.  “I guess you really do know everyone’s secrets here, don’t you?” 

“I see everything, hear everything,” she agreed, “but I do not know all.”  The old woman smiled sadly.  “I cannot plumb the depths of the hearts and souls of those who visit me, unless they wish to share.  Sometimes, in dreams, they do, but not always.” 

A thought occurred to Daniel, and he asked, “What about Vala?  What can you tell me about her?  I don’t know where she comes from, who her people are, or anything about her, really.  She tells me one thing, then contradicts it with something else.  I can never tell when she’s lying to try to get me to do something, or telling the truth.” 

Rimpau let go of him and reached up with one hand, stroking it through his hair, as his mother used to do when he was a boy.  Her voice was sad as she answered, “You will have your answers soon enough, Danny.  The Crown of Janus never lies.” 

“You know about that?”  He was surprised again.  “You don’t approve of stealing, but it’s okay as long as it’s done off-world?” 

“I was the one who persuaded Vala to seek it,” Rimpau admitted.  “It is part of her destiny, Daniel, and also of yours.  You will both need what it offers to be prepared for what is to come.” 

She stepped back, floating away from him into the depths of the cave.  

He couldn’t make his feet move to follow her. 

“Now you must awaken,” she sighed, and her voice was the wind, ruffling his hair, making his clothes flap around him.  “Choose the past, Daniel.  It is how you understand.” 

He opened his eyes, the dream fresh in his mind, vivid and perfect in every detail.  Daniel sat up on his bed, his tunic and boots discarded on the floor, but he was still dressed in his leggings beneath the fur pelts. Aside from a faintly disoriented sensation, he had no hangover, and for that he was thankful.  

Reluctantly, he put his bare feet on the cold floor and hurried to his bathroom.  When he was done there, he washed, dressed quickly and threw his cloak around himself, taking another look around the cell.  The vines were everywhere, thoroughly twined in his bed, forming a cushiony mat beneath the furs on which he slept.   

“Good morning, Rimpau,” he murmured as he dropped the furs back into place, wondering if he had completely lost his mind, or if the drink he’d had the previous night had made him hallucinate. 

No answer came to his greeting, and he chuckled at himself, hurrying off to see what Mazaheri was serving for breakfast, and how soon Vala wanted to get this show on the road.  He wanted to fulfill his bargain and get home as quickly as possible, and to do that, he’d need information.  To be properly prepared, Vala had better provide him with some sort of reference library, because he couldn’t possibly remember everything he needed to get the job done.  She was going to have to find him reference books. 

That, he thought, would be a most enjoyable thing to tell her, because the books he needed were in his office at the SGC, and he had no way to get them. 

He was going to enjoy watching her figure that one out. 

“You won’t need your books,” Vala insisted yet again.  “You’re fluent in Goa’uld.  There’s no mystery here.  I’ve heard descriptions of the place from those who’ve been there.  It’s a big, deserted old temple.  We just have to find this crown and get back to Rimpau, so I can sell it.” 

She tugged on his arm, trying to lead him up the winding street, toward the mouth of the cave that he now knew housed this planet’s stargate.   

He resisted, planting his feet firmly on the flagstones.  “I need to do research, Vala,” he snarled back. “I always study before missions to try to be prepared for whatever might be waiting for us when we get there.  There hasn’t been any preparation for this.  We don’t even know if the ‘gate on the other side is still working.” 

“It is, and you’re going to have to trust me on that,” she argued. “Now, come on!”  She jerked on his arm to get him started. 

“You get me killed, and I promise I’ll haunt you forever,” he growled, jerking his arm free of her grasp and stomping along beside her.  “What do you know about this place?  Whose temple is it?” 

“I thought that would be obvious,” she returned, cocking a dark eyebrow at him. “Crown of Janus.  Temple of Janus.  You do know who he was, don’t you?” 

Daniel sighed. “Etruscan and Roman god of doorways, entrances, gates, and beginnings.  That’s what makes me nervous about this trip, Vala.  If he’s the ‘god of gates,’ that would include stargates, by default.  Does that mean the ‘gate at his temple is special, maybe rigged differently?  If we go mucking around in his temple, there’s no telling what we might set off. I need to study up on him.  I need my books.  Not being prepared could get us trapped or dead, and  I’m not looking forward to that, I have to tell you.”  He hesitated, casting her a sideways glance.  “In spite of what Rimpau said.” 

Vala didn’t stop walking, nodding as if she had expected this, amusement in her sapphire eyes.  “So, you had the dream last night?” 

“The dream?” 

She nodded.  “Everyone has it, their first time here.  It’s where Rimpau lays down the rules and shows people what will happen if they cheat, steal, or kill while they’re here.”  She shuddered. “Not a pretty death, I must say.” 

He frowned.  “I didn’t see any of that.” 

She turned toward him, one hand on his chest to stop him as she stepped in front of him, dark brows drawing together in unhappy surprise.  “You didn’t?  What did she tell you?” 

Daniel tipped his head back, gazing down his nose at her in suspicion.  “She hinted that you weren’t as bad as I think you are.” 

Vala smiled, puffing up with pride, dropping her hands to her hips.  “Yes.  She likes me.  What else?” 

Clearing his throat, Daniel glanced away, suddenly uncomfortable.  “She said it was my destiny to find the crown for you.  She called me your hunter.” 

Her head cocked, and her smile lifted higher on one side. “I rather like that.  My hunter.  Come along, then, Hunter.  We have treasure to sniff out.”  She started off again, reaching back to grasp the sleeve of his tunic and haul him along the uphill path.  “If she’s told you you’re supposed to be doing this, then you can consider it written in stone.  Rimpau is never wrong about these things.” 

As they approached the mouth of the cave, Daniel glanced to the left at the slope where Kitsos and the bartender lived.  The mountainside looked different from his dream, the landscape around the front of the house now filled with small rocks.  The pitched roof of the house was flattened now, and as Daniel watched, he saw the flat roof push outward, extending over the front entrance in a smooth, curved protrusion in the exact shape of the balcony he had designed in his dream. 

He stood still, watching in amazement as stone walls began to rise into place, and the cliff face began to dimple and form into steps leading up to what would be Daniel’s front door. 

“What are you looking at, Daniel?” Vala inquired, gazing off toward the slowly forming construction.  “Oh.  Rimpau is building someone a new home.  I wonder whose it is?” 

“Mine,” he answered breathlessly, hardly able to believe his eyes.  Rimpau wasn’t exactly building the dwelling place as much as she was growing it out of her surface. 

Daniel looked away, directing his gaze into the tunnel, glowing blue-green in the depths of the cave.  His mind was numb, unable to fully comprehend the idea of what he’d just seen.  All thought processes screeched to a halt as he walked into the cave, staring straight ahead, stopping beside the throne set behind the DHD, facing the stargate.  

He glanced into the chair nervously, a little relieved to find it empty. 

Vala rushed up to him.  “What do you mean, that’s your house?” she demanded.  “We’re staying with Mazaheri.” 

“Apparently Rimpau wants me up there with Kitsos and Constant.”   

Vala’s eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest.  “Did you ask for your own place?” 

“No.”  Daniel shook his head.  “She told me I’d need a place for my library, where I can relax and rest between these heists you’ve scheduled for me.”  He grinned at her, his faculties clicking back on as the awe of Rimpau’s gift lost a little of its hold on him.  “Which means, you owe me books, and lots of them.” 

He waggled his eyebrows at her, then watched her step up to the DHD and dial their destination, taking care to memorize the glyphs and the order in which she pressed them.  The ‘gate activated, the event horizon stabilized, and she glared at him as she fell into step beside him, walking into the shimmering surface and out on another world. 

Daniel stood perfectly still, his mouth hanging open, eyes wide and searching all around the huge structure.  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he breathed in wonder.   

Even Vala was a little startled, motionless beside him as she surveyed the temple as well. 

The section of floor where they stood was on the lowest level of a temple that appeared to go on in all directions, as far as the eye could see.  Terraces of stone rose all around them, each supporting tall Roman columns holding up individual sections of roof, some touching other roofs, others with spaces between to allow sunlight to penetrate.  The temple was built of mostly white stone, and all around the columns bright red vines curled and twisted round and round.  In patches of sunlight, pale purple and white blossoms hung in bunches like wisteria. 

Slanting beams of golden sunlight cut through the gloom, brightly illuminating the interior in places.  To the right, a ladder led up to a platform straight above them, suspended from the ceiling.  That would give an excellent view of the temple complex around the stargate, so Daniel started to climb up for a look. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Vala asked him.  She pointed to a mosaic design on the floor, set beneath the stargate’s base and extending in a slow curve in a colorful red vine graphic.  “This is the path to the crown.” 

“How do you know that?” he asked over his shoulder, mounting the rungs. 

“Others have been here before us, Daniel,” she challenged.  “They’ve all said—“ 

“Did they make it to the crown?” he shot back. 

“Well, no…” 

“Then we’re doing this my way.”  He climbed all the way to the top, looking down on what he could see of the complex.  The mosaic vine trailed away in what looked like a big figure-eight, with the stargate sitting on the crossing point of the loops.  Parts of the mosaic disappeared for small spaces as the levels changed and passed through doorways, but overall, it appeared that Vala’s suggestion had some merit.  The design had a purpose; he just wasn’t sure yet if it was trail or trap. 

Glancing around, he scanned for any writing that might help him, thinking as he turned in a circle, trying to recall everything he knew about Janus from Earth mythology.  “Beginnings and endings,” he mused softly, reciting the litany of provenance for this particular ancient deity, “gates, doorways, entrances.  Beloved of Cardea, goddess of thresholds and door-pivots.  Husband of Jana, queen of secrets.  Father of the Twelve, god of the new year.” 

He glanced down at Vala below him, standing near the DHD, arms crossed and impatiently tapping her foot.  She started to wander, stepping up off the first terrace on which the stargate sat, onto a square with no mosaic vines.  The moment both feet were on the new level, it began to move, smoothly and silently, rising upward into the air. 

Startled, Vala leaped back onto the stargate platform and glanced up at Daniel with worried eyes.  The platform stopped moving as soon as she dismounted it.  “They never told me about that,” she called breathlessly to him. 

Daniel’s eyes widened as he gazed around them, his heart skipping a beat.  “Fuck me!” he breathed in shock. 

Vala’s misstep seemed to have an effect on the whole place, every terrace rising or sinking except for the viewing platform on which he stood, and those that bore the mosaic. 

He didn’t know how far the terraces would go, maybe crushing whoever stood on them against the ceilings or dropping down into God-knew-what dark terrors below them. 

“Try another one,” he suggested, needing proof for his theory, “but if it moves, get right back where you are.” 

“You try it,” she snapped. 

She was right; it was too dangerous.  

“Hold on, I’ll be right down.”  He hurried back down the ladder to the stargate platform and towed her over to the nearest terrace.  “Look, I’m gonna hold onto your hands in case it drops suddenly, so I can pull you back.  You’re lighter on your feet than I am, so you have to be the one to try this, Vala.” 

“Fuck you.”  She crossed her arms tightly over her black leather bustier, not about to budge. 

He put his hands on his hips.  “Okay, then you get to haul my ass back here if the floor drops out from under me.  Would you like that better, since I weigh about eighty pounds more than you do?” 

Her glare could have killed a more faint-hearted soul.  She stalked over to another section of the building and turned to face him.  He held out his hands; she latched onto his wrists with a death grip of her own, and stepped backward onto the slightly higher level. 

It dropped quickly, disappearing into the black depths below them, and Daniel felt Vala’s full weight yank on his shoulders, nearly toppling them both over the edge.  He jerked backward, falling on his butt, legs splayed out on either side of Vala’s shoulders.  Leaning back, he managed to draw her upward on her belly to the steady, solid base beneath them. 

“Okay,” he huffed, slightly breathless from the exertion.  “That pretty much verifies that we stay on the path.”  He glanced around them. 

“Thank you,” she growled irritably, pushing up to hands and knees, and then to her feet.  “Brilliant deduction, Daniel.  Remind me again why I brought you along.” 

“Shut up,” he groused back.  “This isn’t over yet.” 

He looked down at the vine mosaic, remembering the view from on top.  “The number eight has to be significant,” he murmured, thinking out loud. He shook his head.  Pieces were not coming together.  He hated being blind like this, depending only on what he already knew, without time for advance preparation. 

“Eight?” Vala asked, dusting herself off.  It was warm in the room, so she pushed her cloak back from her shoulders and took it off, leaving it in a neatly folded pile on top of the DHD.  “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“That’s what the design on the floor makes,” Daniel told her. “Two loops under the stargate.  The number eight.” 

She shrugged.  “Let’s just go, Daniel. Follow the path or go back to Rimpau empty-handed; your choice.  Otherwise, we could just be stuck here forever by your damned indecision.” 

Forever. 

“Of course!” he crowed, throwing his hands up into the air in triumph. “Infinity!  It’s not an eight; it’s an infinity symbol.”  He frowned, his brows pulling down over his eyes.  “Which makes no sense either, because the symbol for infinity has no beginning or end, and if Janus is the god of beginnings and endings…”  He scratched at his face in thought, still puzzling over that notion. 

Vala took his hand and headed for the next platform with the vines.  Cautiously, she stepped onto it, and it remained firmly in place.  After a moment, she let go of him and walked forward hesitantly.  The level didn’t move. 

Daniel followed her, walking from terrace to terrace, moving further away from the stargate until they came to a circular doorway set into a wall. 

“This looks like a stargate,” Daniel observed, looking all around it, checking out the carvings on the wall that supported the doorway. There must have been hundreds of small symbols carved into the surface of the pale grayish stone circle set into the matching wall, but Daniel didn’t see any way to access them, no dialer to enter in a specific address. 

“It’s a doorway, Daniel,” Vala corrected dryly.  She started through it. 

He grabbed her arm.  “Wait,” he ordered, his hand sliding down her arm to her wrist.  His fingers circled around her delicate bones, and when he had a good grip, he nodded his assent for her to proceed. 

Suddenly she didn’t look so confident.  Carefully, she eased through the doorway until she stood on the other side, save for her wrist and hand, still safe in Daniel’s possession.  As soon as she had emerged, a fine snowfall began to flutter down from the ceiling. 

Daniel looked through the opening into the next area and spied suspicious lumps, covered by the same white powder.  He’d seen something like this before. When he realized what they were, he pulled Vala back through the doorway. The snowfall stopped as soon as she was gone.  

“We can’t go through there,” he told her. 

“Why not?” she demanded, brushing away the flakes that were clinging to her clothes. 

“Because that’s not snow,” he said, pinching up some of it between his fingertips.  “It’s volcanic ash, Vala.  You breathe it in, and it turns to cement in your lungs. You’ll suffocate within minutes. It’s a horrible, painful, scary death.” 

She paled and nodded, brushing the stuff out of her hair.  “All right, then. We can’t go this way.  Do we go back through the stargate and follow the path in the other direction?” 

“Give me a minute,” he told her, turning to the inscriptions on the wall around the doorway. 

A couple of hours later, he heard an annoying rhythmic tapping, and figured it was Vala’s impatience going off again.  For the umpteenth time, he started to snarl at her to be quiet, but glanced at her first and did a double-take.  She was dancing.  No music was playing, but she moved as if she could hear it playing in her head.  Her eyes were closed, and she seemed lost in it, her body moving with the fluid grace of a bird in flight.  She was beautiful, and his breath caught as he watched her. 

For a moment, he forgot what he’d been doing, and turned to stare at her. 

When she caught him looking, she stopped instantly, her cheeks coloring.  She walked toward him, guilt and embarrassment written all over her. She didn’t make eye contact, but looked instead at the journal he’d brought with him, where he’d made his notes. 

“Did you find something?” she asked, her voice reedy with tension. 

“Yes, I.  Actually.”  He was still so distracted by what he’d just seen, he could hardly think.   

He glanced back at his notes, and eventually found the thread he’d been following in the inscriptions.  He cleared his throat, gesturing toward the circular doorframe.  “Janus was the god of doorways, gates, and entrances,” he reiterated to her.  “This isn’t a stargate, but it does look like one.  That’s because it’s also a doorway to more than one destination, just like a stargate is.”  

He turned to face her.  “Do you know what a quantum mirror is?” 

“No, Daniel.”  She fluttered her eyelashes at him in imitation of a flirtatious schoolgirl.  “What is it?”  She asked with obvious mock interest. 

“We’ve only found one in all our travels,” he explained, “but I think this is a similar device.  You see, there’s this theory out there that each reality gives rise to an almost infinite number of other realities.  For every decision you make, there are options.  Each of those options has its own offshoot, its own timeline that’s created, because the outcome of everything after that choice changes.  I don’t explain it as well as Sam, but a quantum mirror is a device that enables the user to explore all the different alternative realities that might have been, had different choices been made.  I’ve been through one of those.” 

“And this doorway is a quantum thingy?” 

“Not exactly. It seems to be a path through a limited selection of different possible rooms on the other side, all existing as possibility until the connection is made to make it a reality.  I’m sure Sam would be drooling all over it by now.” 

Vala’s initial sarcasm faded as she listened.  “So how do we find the right room that will give us safe passage? Assuming there is one.” 

He grinned a little.  “Still working on that.  It’ll take me some time to figure out, but I think I can do it here.” 

Her disappointment was palpable.  “How long?’ 

Daniel shrugged, looking down his nose at her.  “I don’t know. Could be in the next five minutes; could be a week. Archaeology is not a science for the impatient.” 

“That’s an understatement.”  She sat down on the mosaic and slipped the backpack off that she’d been carrying.  “I’m hungry, so I’m going to take a break.  You just keep working, Daniel.” 

He shook his head and turned back to the inscriptions.  His stomach growled as soon as he smelled food, and without asking, a small plate of hard bread, cheese, and fruit was handed over to him, along with a mug of tea.  He took the refreshment a few bites at a time, eating on his feet while he worked. 

When he was ready, he chose one of the symbols and pressed on it directly.  The scene on the other side of the doorway changed immediately, the ash-covered lumps disappearing.  The room appeared clean and safe, but Daniel wasn’t a hundred percent sure he’d chosen correctly.  It was either the circle symbol or the infinity symbol, and this was a heads-or-tails choice. 

Holding onto Vala’s hand, he stepped through the opening first this time. 

Nothing happened. 

After a couple of minutes, Vala followed him through and they continued along the curve. 

Daniel realized they were descending, doubling back until they would be passing directly beneath the stargate.  That, he thought, was the most likely place for the Crown of Janus to be kept. 

Their progress was slow, but as they came to each doorway, Daniel figured out the key and got them through safely.  By the time they reached the last entrance, Vala was holding his hand, reluctant to let him go.  They approached a solid wall with a pyramid-shaped opening, sealed with what appeared to be thick metal doors. 

An inscription was written in ancient Latin across both panels.   

Daniel studied it, his lips moving as he read it to himself. 

“Out loud,” Vala prompted him.  “I want to know what it says, too.” 

“It talks about the god, Janus.  If I’m reading this right, it seems that a Goa’uld symbiote chose a man with two heads as a host, because his people already worshipped him.” 

“A man with two heads?” she scoffed.  “Impossible.” 

“No, it’s not.  Modern medical science has determined that other similar births on Earth are the result of incomplete separation of identical twins during the formation process in utero.”  Daniel peered at the writing, wanting to make sure he got the translation right.  “The Goa’uld could only implant itself into one brain, so the other was always beyond its control.  The two beings often argued, leaving the people confused and frightened.  The Goa’uld eventually sought another host, and he became the god, Cronus.” 

Daniel glanced down at the kor’mak bracelet around his wrist, a product of Cronus’ technology. He looked back at Vala.  “So we have him to thank for these.  Swell.” 

Vala looked rather guilty.  “About these things,” she began, then stopped and shook her head.  “When we get back to Rimpau, I’ll take them off.  I’m sorry, Daniel.  I just couldn’t afford to lose you.  You’re more valuable than you know.” 

He flexed a bitter smile at her.  “Small comfort,” he assured her, “but I’ll be glad to be rid of it.  You keep me on a short tether, and I don’t like it.” 

“I don’t blame you,” she returned quietly, then turned her attention back to the door.  “So what else is there?  Anything to help us open this thing?” 

Daniel nodded, reading off the rest of it.  “Apparently, Janus learned a great deal about technology from the Goa’uld and built the Crown, after the symbiote went to another host. It’s supposed to be a device that allows the wearer to look into the future and the past.  It can only be worn by ‘two who are one.’ ” 

“A host?” asked Vala.  “I can’t imagine a former host would build such a powerful thing that only the Goa’uld can use.  That doesn’t make sense.” 

“Maybe someone who has two heads,” Daniel pondered aloud, “or maybe two people who are otherwise connected, maybe with something like this.”  He glanced down at his wrist and the alien device that joined him to Vala, patting the bracelet for emphasis. 

“Well, none of that will do us any good unless we get inside this chamber,” Vala stated, ever the queen of the obvious.  

Taking her elbow, Daniel led her up to the door.  He put his fingers on it and nodded toward the door, indicating her to follow suit.  “I guess we’ll see how powerful the kor’mak is, huh?” 

Vala’s free hand settled against the metal door.  An instant later, the double panels whisked open.  The room on the other side was dark, save for a gilded, padded bench set on a small dais emblazoned with the infinity symbol.  Suspended about five feet above the bench was a device made of what appeared to be a wreath of golden leaves, intertwined with those red vines that seemed to be everywhere.  

“That’s it?” asked Vala, stepping into the room and moving toward it. 

Daniel followed her, reluctant to let go of her hand, afraid the room might have sensors capable of detecting them as individual people if they separated.  He studied the device as they approached, and saw that it was suspended on a golden rod disappearing upward into the darkness.  A gentle tug on it showed that it was not meant to be detached; at least not easily. 

Vala stepped up onto the bench and reached for it. 

The dream he’d had of Rimpau surfaced suddenly, as if in warning, and he tugged on her wrist. “No, wait,” Daniel told her, his gaze fixed on the golden wreaths.  “I don’t think we’re supposed to take it with us. We’re supposed to use it. That’s what Rimpau told me in my dream.” 

“It’s got to be worth a fortune, Daniel,” she argued.  “Who wouldn’t pay everything they own for a look at the future?  I might be able to cross everything else off my list with just this little trinket alone.  Wouldn’t you like that, being able to get rid of me after just one job?” 

“I’ll admit, it’s tempting, but I’m positive we’re not supposed to steal it.”  Saying it out loud had reinforced his intuition.  “Come on.  Sit down.” 

This time, she didn’t argue.  She stepped off the bench without letting go of him. 

He backed up, taking a seat on the bench, but got right up again.  “Wait, I have to make sure we do this right,” he told her, studying the setup from a few paces back. 

“Whatever are you talking about, Daniel? Do you want me to sit down or not?” 

He made a shushing motion at her, one finger across his lips.  “Janus had two heads,” Daniel mused aloud, his finger slipping down to touch his chin thoughtfully.  “One looked forward, the other looked back; one to the future, the other to the past.”  He eyed the device, trying to figure out which was which.  “Rimpau specifically told me I should choose to view the past.” 

He turned his head to the left.  Whoever sat beneath that section of the crowd would look into blackness.  Looking right, whoever sat on that part of the bench would face the open doorway through which they had just entered.  “That’s the past,” he stated certainly and moved onto the dais, taking a seat facing that direction.  “You sit on the other side, Vala, but whatever happens, don’t let go of me.  We have to stay connected here.” 

He heard her sigh as she took her seat behind him, back to back.  “All right.  Now what?” Vala asked, a trace of irritation in her voice. 

The moment they were both settled, the soft hum of machinery sounded and the crown began to lower, settling lightly on their brows, the cold metal band warming quickly with their body heat.  Daniel tried to glance upward as the whirr of gears and motors hummed again, withdrawing the supporting rod and leaving the crown completely free on their heads.  He meant to reach for it, drag it off and hurry Vala away before the door closed, but a sharp pain stabbed down through the top of his head, making him gasp, paralyzing him – then everything faded to black. 

He awoke on the bench, lying on his left side.  Vala’s warmth against his lower back assured him she was still there, but was either sitting up or leaning the other direction.  He glanced upward and saw that the crown was now back in place, joined to the rod once more and well out of reach. 

His brain felt as if it were throbbing inside his skull.  Putting his hands to his pounding head, he sat up and turned as best he could to check on his companion.  “You okay?” he whispered, grimacing. 

Vala was sitting up, elbows on her knees, head bent forward, her face hidden by the curtain of her long hair.  She nodded, but didn’t reply right away.  He heard her sniff and answer softly, “Yes.  I’m all right, Daniel.  You?” 

“Got a nail in my head,” he quipped, remembering Jack’s well-after-the-fact description of another alien-technology-influenced headache he’d once endured. 

“Yeah, there’s that, too,” Vala agreed.  She slid carefully off the bench and came around to the other side.  “Come on.  It’s time to go.” 

Daniel glanced at her and saw that her eyes were red and bloodshot, as if she’d been crying.  “What’s the matter?” 

Her gaze moved ruefully toward the crown.  “We don’t take it with us,” she told him firmly.  “You were right about that.  And the damn thing works.” 

“What did you see, Vala?” he demanded, more than a little worried by her obvious grief and regret.  He rose and straightened his clothes, holding her gaze with his, demanding the truth. 

Her eyes filled and, sniffing, she backed away from him. Vala lifted her chin, a look of defiance on her face, but that wasn’t what was in her eyes. “Come on, Daniel. We got what we came for. Time to go back to Rimpau.” 

“How far into the future did you see?” He brightened, an idea hitting him. “Hey, if you know where to find the treasures you want, maybe you don’t need me anymore.” 

She laughed a little, bitterly.  “The Crown of Janus doesn’t show the future,” she bit out harshly,  “it shows your future, Daniel.  I just watched you die.” 

He felt his stomach drop into the soles of his boots. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Not anytime soon, I hope?” 

“Do you really want to know?”  She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest.  Body language indicated that she didn’t want to chitchat about this subject. 

He shook his head.  “I’d prefer to die a very old man after a long, full life,” he told her honestly, “but I guess I’d rather you didn’t tell me. Unless it’s coming in the next five minutes or so.” 

She shook her head.  “Not for quite a while,” she promised.  “Years and years.” 

Relieved, he started for the door they’d used earlier, but Vala caught his arm and pointed the other direction, into the darkness.  “That way,” she assured him.  Taking his hand, she led him with a sure step and pressed a hidden panel.  The previously blank wall opened up to reveal the remaining loop of the mosaic, leading back up to the stargate. 

They returned to the platform without incident, Vala leading the way and solving every puzzle without Daniel’s assistance.  She dialed Rimpau, and while they were waiting for the ‘gate to spin up, she asked him, “Just how many times have you died, anyway?  Because I believe I counted quite a bit more than the usual one that most mortals are allowed; at least, without the use of a sarcophagus.” 

Daniel grinned.  “I’ve been very lucky in that respect.”  That got him thinking though. “If you saw my future, then shouldn’t I have seen your past?” 

Vala shrugged.  “I don’t know, Daniel. I haven’t a clue how that thing works, or is supposed to work, other than what I’ve already experienced.”  She sounded cross, impatient, maybe more than a little angry. 

The wormhole stabilized, and she started toward it, putting on her cloak as she walked beside her companion.  “So you didn’t see anything of my past?”  Vala eyed him warily. 

He shook his head.  “Just passed out when that thing turned on.  Maybe it needs some kind of trigger to get it started.” 

“Then how do you explain my instantly being privy to the vision of your demise?” she demanded. 

They prepared to step through the event horizon, and Daniel shrugged with one shoulder.  “I don’t—“ 

Lightning flashed against the dusky sky, and in the courtyard a woman was dancing.  She was lithe and dark, exotically beautiful; the picture of grace.  In the shadows of the doorway, a man in uniform was watching, entranced. 

Finally, driven by desire, he showed himself to her. 

She stopped in a swirl of black hair and clinging red silk, staring at him, mouth open, panting from the exercise. 

He approached her, and she waited for him. 

“Morena,” he whispered, taking her in his arms.  “There is none more beautiful than you.  My heart aches when I watch you move.” 

Morena quirked a half-smile, her eyes filled with secrets.  “You’d have me, Kodam?” she asked, her voice sultry and deep, her gaze teasing, promising nothing. 

“If you don’t want me, I’ll be a broken man,” he assured her, bending his dark head toward her lips, hesitating at the last moment, waiting for her answer. 

“Who wouldn’t want the captain of the guard of the Gahdin?” she returned, tossing her head to fling a lock of dark hair over her shoulder. 

He straightened, looking down at her smug smile.  “You,” he answered huskily.  “You aren’t easily impressed, Morena.  You’ve already turned down many who wanted you.  I fear I may soon join their ranks.”  With a sigh, Kodam let her slip from his grasp.   

He dropped to both knees and bowed his head.  “I can tell you only that I offer you an honest, loyal heart, my protection, and my life, as proof of my love for you.  More than that is beyond me.” 

The dancer cupped his chin in her hand and lifted his face so she could see him.  “That’s all I’ve ever wanted of a man,” she told him in a gentle whisper, “so I am yours.  Rise, Kodam, and take your prize.” 

Surprise flitted across his darkly handsome face.  “You – you want me?” He stood up in a hurry.  “You don’t want to wait for marriage?” 

“You’re a man of honor,” she reminded him.  “I trust you to keep your word.” 

Daniel stepped out of the stargate into the cave on Rimpau, this vision fully formed in his mind.  He stumbled as he walked, unable to see anything but the couple in their bedroom, vigorously making love, each crying out as they found their release.  Just as suddenly as it began, it was over. 

When his vision cleared, he saw Vala in front of him, alarm vivid in her expression. 

“Are you all right?” she asked him, putting a hand out to steady him. 

“Uh.”  He struggled to gather his wits, vaguely aware of the wormhole closing down behind them.  “I think.”  He cleared his throat.  “What were your parents’ names?” 

Vala hesitated.  “Kodam and Morena.  Why?  What did you see?” 

He felt his face heating up and looked past her, unable to meet her eyes.  He started walking, and she fell in step with him.  “I think I just saw them on the night you were conceived.” 

After a beat, she made a horrified little noise and turned her face away. 

She veered off, walked up to the nearest wall and muttered to the nearest cluster of white vines, “Rimpau, what the hell have you done to me?”  Her complexion turned rather rosy.   

“Did she answer?” asked Daniel. 

Vala just shook her head and walked out of the cave, moving quickly, apparently intent on leaving him behind.  She was embarrassed.  So was Daniel.  Spying on other people’s intimate moments was not exactly entertainment, as far as he was concerned. 

“Beginnings and endings,” he reminded himself.  That was the provenance of Janus.  Vala had seen his end; he had observed her beginning.  Eventually, they might bear witness to each other’s whole lives. 

He hoped not.  There were pieces of his past he didn’t want to share, especially not with Vala Mal Doran. He imagined she probably felt pretty much the same way about him having a front row seat to her life.  He thought there was probably a lot about her that he just simply didn’t want to know – how many people she had cheated or stolen from, the shady deals she’d done, the men she’d slept with to coax them into some underhanded scheme.   

There was a lot he didn’t know about her and didn’t care to learn, but there were also some things he did want to know.  Maybe he’d learn the truth about who she really was, what had happened to her people, and why she had been chosen to host the Goa’uld, Quetesh – or if even that was a lie. 

In time, he hoped he would know the answer to the mystery that was Vala.  The Crown of Janus might have given him a window into her life, but he didn’t know how to work that power.  If the visions just happened at random or in response to triggers, he’d just have to wait to find things out a little at a time.  If he could manage to locate specific incidents and call them up, then he might be able to get his answers faster, and be able to learn to distinguish her moments of honesty from the load of bullshit she usually tried to heap upon him. 

He let her pull ahead and strolled out of the cave into the late afternoon sunshine, casting a glance up the slope toward his new digs.  They looked complete from the outside, so he suggested they go up and take a look.  He was hungry, though, and was prepared to make the visit brief, since he still had no income with which to look after himself, depending on Vala for everything. 

As he passed in front of Kitsos and Constant’s home, he noted that all the rocks he’d seen littering the ground that morning were gone.  The smell of food wafting out from the couple’s open front door made his mouth water, but he went past it, not wanting to disturb his new neighbors, and plodded wearily up the steps to the front landing.  Vala veered off and paid a call on his new neighbors instead, giving Daniel some space to take a look at his new home alone. 

The door opened to his touch, and he was stunned by how beautiful the place was inside, the walls an earthy brown stucco in appearance, laced with Rimpau’s white sensory vines.  Buttressed arches supported the vaulted ceilings, rising way up from the floor.  Tall windows let in a lot of light in the front rooms, but the rooms in the rear had none, built as they were into the sheltering depths of the mountain.   

Furniture sprang up in appropriate places from the floor, massive pieces already set with soft cushions in beautiful fabrics.  Curtains in lush brocades separated inside from outside, pulled open and tied back with silken, tasseled ropes.   

He wandered into his bedroom and found a massive round bed commanding the center of the room.  Finely woven sheets in pale gold spilled off the sides of the bed and pooled up around its base on the floor.  Thick velvet comforters in shades of navy and black were piled on top of those, and over everything, a heavy pelt of white fur and three large pillows completed the ensemble and ensured he would be comfortably warm at night. 

Stunned by the masculine beauty and elegance of this newly created building, he next wandered into the library and saw that the shelves were not empty, as he’d expected them to be.  Vala couldn’t have put the books there; she’d been with him all day.  Perhaps Mazaheri had done it.  But how would she know what books he might want? 

He strolled over to take a look and saw that most of them were hand-lettered, illuminated manuscripts, rather than printed books.  Most looked rather old, but beautifully preserved.  The authors of these volumes were unfamiliar to him; to determine how useful they might be in his research, he’d need time to examine and study each one. 

Daniel was pleased to note that there were no reference books by Budge in the collection. 

He set two of the volumes he’d glanced through back on the shelf and opened the first one. 

It was written in Egyptian hieroglyphs, but didn’t appear to have come from Earth.  A quick translation of the title page showed it was an encyclopedia of all the Goa’uld gods, their provenance, and the worlds that made up their territories as System Lords.  That, he thought, would be a valuable book, indeed. 

As he was returning it to the shelf and reaching for another, he noticed the back wall of the bookcase looked a little odd.  It had a transparent sheen in one spot, and he thought he saw writing.  He squinted at it, rubbed his tired eyes beneath his glasses, and peered at it again. 

It was writing.  His eyes widened as he watched the letters becoming clearer, the rear wall of the bookcase growing thinner and thinner until it seemed to melt away.  The spine of a book appeared, complete with black text on a pale gray canvas binding.  Slowly, the book emerged from the wall, pushed gently into place, and as it exited, the wall closed up behind it. 

The books were inside the wall, and Rimpau was putting them into place for him on the shelves. 

Wondering how the books had come to be there, he put out his hand to touch the wall. 

Another vision seeped into his mind, but this one had soft edges, gently unfurling in his consciousness.   

A bearded man in an embroidered tunic stabbed another man, wrested from his grip a small, golden, bejeweled box, and turned to run away.   

A familiar, feminine voice whispered in the back of his mind, I do not tolerate those who would steal, cheat, or kill, Daniel. 

As he watched the scenario play out in his mind, white vines spat out from the ground around the thief’s feet, snaring his ankles, growing and traveling up his legs.  As he lost his balance, he screamed, dropping his booty, and fell onto his belly on the ground, but he could not escape. 

The vines surrounded him, tying him down to the earth.  Slowly, as he continued to struggle, his loud pleas for help faded, as his body sank into it and disappeared.  The ground swallowed him up, covering him, and along with him, the treasure he had stolen. 

Daniel wondered about the books again, and phrased that thought as a question.  “Why these books, Rimpau?  Were they someone’s stolen treasures?” 

An old man sat in a library very much like this one.  He sat at a desk, poring over an old map.  After a moment, he clutched at his chest, struggled against the pain for a few moments, and relaxed into death.  In the vision, people came to take his body away, but no one came for the books.  Rimpau eventually swallowed them up, keeping them safe until someone needed them again. 

It made sense.  Rimpau treasured those things as mementos of people she had enjoyed; he could feel her affection for the old fellow.   

Daniel smiled and nodded, withdrawing his hand from contact with the wall.  “Thank you, Rimpau.  I’ll take good care of your friend’s books.”  He looked up at the rows and rows of them, a library such as he had never seen before, and likely, never would again, outside the rare book room of the New York Public Library. 

He glanced around the house again.  “My new home is beautiful.  I’m honored by what you’ve done for me.  I don’t know what I might be able to do for you in return, how I might repay you for your kindness and generosity.” 

Live. 

He wasn’t sure he’d actually heard it; more that he’d sensed her reply, like something he simply knew inside him.  He closed his eyes and concentrated on that sensation. 

Live, and let me share your life, while you are here.  Tell your story to me, and I will never forget you. 

Daniel sighed.  “I don’t know how interesting the story will be, but we’ll see.  Vala’s bound to get me in trouble, given the chance.” That would be a kind of immortality, to be remembered by this ancient being. Rimpau would carry memories of him as long as she lived, and according to Vala, that would be forever. 

We shall see. 

“That we will,” he agreed.  “Thank you again.  You’re very generous.” 

Some would disagree. 

“I guess that depends on how honest we are, doesn’t it?” 

Rimpau didn’t answer. 

Daniel’s stomach rumbled.  “I’m just gonna go find Vala and see about dinner.  I’ll be back later on tonight.” 

When there was no further communication from the planet, he wandered outside and made his way back to Mazaheri’s house with Vala at