The Herbs of Healing.

Uhura despondently sat on the grass with the wolf nuzzling at her hand. McCoy hated to see her so distressed and strongly suspected that she was more attracted to the prince than she had admitted. He tried to reassure her. "We'll find Gwilym and the herbs."

McCoy was no backwoodsman but to give her some privacy he scouted around for any sign of the thief. The ground was too hard for footprints but on a bed of dead leaves by an old gnarled tree lay a translucent material that glistened softly in the moonlight. He retrieved his reduced capacity tricorder, from his backpack, and set it to scan. It told him enough. He picked up the delicate piece of discarded snakeskin and brought it over to Uhura.

She frowned. "What is it, Doctor?"

Before he could answer, the wolf howled. Uhura turned to McCoy. "Lorc says it's not ordinary snakeskin but belongs to one who is neither snake nor human but both. She is the most fearsome of creatures and lures maidens and youths to their deaths."

"She took Gwilym," McCoy said, "but what use would she have for the herbs?"

Uhura listened to the wolf then replied, "There's a snake-woman living in the forest. She is Modwenna's sister."

"Damn," McCoy said. He could still scarcely believe how he had been so utterly taken in by the witch. If another one of these temptresses was involved it would be doubly difficult to defeat them. "Can the wolf track her?" he asked.

"Yes, but he's afraid."

"Will he do it, Uhura?"

After a moment's discourse with the animal, Uhura replied, "Yes but we must leave now or else we might lose her."

McCoy swore softly. It was difficult enough travelling through this forest by day without traipsing around by night as well; in some of the more densely wooded areas it was almost pitch black. They could fall down a ditch or trip and break a leg. The dangers were far too numerous.

Uhura seemed to sense his misgivings. "We'll be careful. We won't be alone either. I'll call on the night creatures to help us."

A short time later, with an entourage of winged and four footed allies, they made their way through tangled undergrowth and down dark forest trails. A large eagle owl with enormous wise eyes and an impressive wingspan flew overhead. Uhura spoke often to their avian guide and, with Lorc in tow, followed him almost recklessly. She seemed secure in the knowledge that her animal friends would not allow them to come to harm and McCoy wished that he had her confidence.

A cloudy sky obscured the rising of the sun and the morning was grey as they reached a glade covered in a riotous display of flowers. The nocturnal creatures had been replaced by diurnal ones who scampered and flew around Uhura excitedly as she reached a gaping pit marring the floral beauty of the place. McCoy followed her. "We're not going down there," he protested.

"The rabbits will scout for us. We'll have to wait."

McCoy sighed deeply as his sceptical soul tried to absorb this. 'Rabbit scouts, owl guides! When will I wake up and find this has all been a dream?'

While waiting, they ate a small breakfast and by the time, they had finished, the animals had returned. Uhura crouched on the ground and listened to them, a wide smile spreading over her features. "Gwilym is there and so are the herbs. Let's go, Doctor McCoy."

"Is it safe, Nyota?" McCoy asked as he peered into the dark opening. "It looks narrow in there."

"Gwilym made it through," Uhura said, "and his physique is quite impressive."

McCoy laughed. The prince was certainly a prime specimen of manhood with muscles that even Jim would envy. "Okay. I understand what you're saying. If someone with that build can do it, then a skinny ole' doctor like me should manage it too."

Uhura smiled impishly. "Something like that. I'll lead the way."

McCoy could not restrain his chivalrous intervention. "No, I'll do it."

"Doctor, you don't understand rabbit speech do you?" Uhura's eyes were warm with mischief.

"Well, I guess I have to bow to the logic of the situation," McCoy conceded, then swallowed as an image of Spock came into his mind. A wave of sadness permeated him as he wondered again what had befallen his Vulcan friend and the others.

The underground journey was dark and cold. They crawled along tunnels and slid down holes until they reached a dazzling gem-encrusted grotto. They stopped short, and McCoy gasped on seeing the regal grace of the beautiful woman awaiting them. Her soft, liquid brown eyes, pert nose and full red lips were perfect. Mahogany hair fell in magnificent waves around her naked upper body but there all humanity ended in a serpent's tail that lay in thick green mottled coils upon the floor.

"Who are you?" Uhura asked.

"I am Creirwy, daughter of Arigol, ruler of serpents," the snake-woman replied in a low voice.

"Where is Gwilym?" McCoy demanded. "Why'd you kidnap him?"

A fleeting smile crossed Creirwy's face. "He pleases me. My sister said I may keep him."

"While she keeps the herbs," McCoy added.

"They are hers. Gwilym is now mine."

Uhura strode forward. "You may not have him. He has been prisoner for long enough."

Creirwy hissed. "No, he is mine."

Uhura folded her arms across her chest. "You will do as I command. I am the Queen of Beasts as foretold in the prophecy. I have jurisdiction over all animals."

McCoy could see the shock in Creirwy's lustrous eyes. He silently encouraged Uhura on. She had learned to bluff by watching that master of the art, James T Kirk. But would the other take the bait? Could the snake-woman even be considered animal? McCoy had no answers but he backed up the resourceful lieutenant and added his own words.

"I'm the Healer of the Prophecy. Modwenna has attempted to thwart destiny by her selfish actions. Would you be so foolish, Creirwy?" He coughed. 'Damn these blasted unpronounceable names!'

Uhura sang in a soft voice and dozens of animals crowded into the grotto. Many of them were not burrowing creatures and had never been underground before. He saw that realisation hit the expressive face of their adversary.

She slithered back in fear. "Lady, how have you done this?"

"The Time of the Prophecy is at hand, Creirwy. Our companions follow their quests. The Healer requires the herbs to cure the crippled bard. Gwilym has served long under your sister's enchantment. He too has his part to play in the battle to come. Help us if you value your life and your home."

Creirwy indicated the entrance to another cavern. "Gwilym is there. You may take him with you. As for the herbs - Modwenna has possession of them."

"Where is she?" McCoy asked.

Creirwy curled in on herself and, with a rapidity which took the watchers by surprise, slithered along the wall then disappeared into a fissure. McCoy and Uhura darted forward to stare down into the narrow chasm. It was as black as night with an overpowering odour of pitch rising from its murky depths. Uhura's nose wrinkled in distaste and she stepped back.

"We can't follow her down there," McCoy said, "but let's see if we can find what we came for."

He led the way to the adjoining cave and there, tied and gagged with strips of snakeskin, sat Gwilym. As Uhura released the prince, McCoy searched the chamber. He found the herbs easily enough. At the foot of a stone obelisk in a rocky alcove lay the wooden casket that held them. Carvings of fantastic animals were etched into the shiny black surface of the obelisk and McCoy recognised the fearsome manticore amongst them. As he reached out to take the chest, a sharp pain swept through his arm. He jumped back as if stung. His nerves tingled with reaction and he moved the arm stiffly, rubbing it with his other hand.

"What happened, Doctor?" a worried Uhura asked.

He turned to her. "Some kind of force field. Damn painful."

Gwilym moved to Uhura's side. "Modwenna didst place an enchantment around the obelisk. She is a powerful witch and few can break her spells."

"She's not gettin' away with this. We'll break it somehow," McCoy said.

The prince lifted Uhura's hand to his lips, kissed it with fervour, then looked down into her sparkling eyes. "Once more thou hast rescued me, Lady. I am in thy debt and dost willingly offer mine self as thy bondservant."

"Where I come from we don't have servants," Uhura replied. "I would be pleased, though, to accept you as my friend."

His face was aglow as he replied, "I wouldst be honoured, my queen."

McCoy coughed. He did not want to interfere with the courtship but there were more urgent considerations. The two immediately separated and, for a moment, McCoy smiled as he reflected that Gwilym was four hundred years older than Uhura. "Where is Modwenna?" he asked the prince.

"I know not, Lord Healer. She ensorcelled me in the forest and with Creirwy's help didst bring me hither. She placed a slumber spell upon me and I didst awaken to find myself alone and bound."

"I don't like it," Uhura said. "There's something very fishy going on. I'll send some of the animals out to search for Modwenna and her sister."

They waited until the return of a small rat. It squeaked its message then scurried away into the darkness. "What did it say?" McCoy asked, no longer concerned about how ridiculous it was for them to be asking a rodent's opinion.

"She and her kin have seen no signs of anyone. They sense evil here. We must leave."

"Not without my herbs. Any suggestions, Uhura?"

The face of the communications officer was tense with concentration. "I'm not sure if it'll work but didn't Ayrond say that we might be able to work magic here."

McCoy considered it. "We know Spock can but it's connected to the Vulcan telepathic ability."

"Yes, but some humans have a limited psi ability. What does my profile say. Doctor?"

"Uhura you may be onto something!" McCoy exclaimed. There were some human telepaths and many other species had the potential. Psi abilities could manifest themselves in different ways such as intuition, empathy or the sensation of being watched. Uhura's psi rating was a few points higher than the norm as was his own. At med school it was believed that those with above average ratings made better doctors. Would it possible to tap the power of this universe as Spock had so successfully done?

"Let's both try to aim our thoughts at the force field and imagine it dissolving," Uhura suggested.

"Easier said than done," McCoy commented but he took his place at Uhura's side and after a brief shared glance of encouragement, they both closed their eyes.

"Now, Doctor, visualise aiming a phaser blast at it," Uhura ordered.

After a few minutes of concentration, McCoy began to shake with exhaustion. Sweat poured from him and he could feel it drench his clothes. Now he could sympathise with what the Vulcan had endured. 'Have to continue. I need the herbs for Emrys.' The thought of the elf's delight in being able to sing and play his harp again and the need to know what had befallen his two closest friends stiffened his resolve. He felt himself sway. Gwilym's strong hands caught him and gave him the strength to continue. He was aware of Uhura matching, perhaps exceeding, his own effort. The young woman's courage was being tested to the limits here and had not been found wanting.

A high-pitched whine assaulted his hearing and he covered his ears in an effort to stop it deafening him. There was a crash and waves of energy battered against his body and mind. The pain was excruciating. "Uhura!" he cried on hearing her scream.

***

Uhura struggled to overcome the crushing pressure but there seemed no possibility of escaping its vice-like grip. Someone was screaming and at first she didn't realise it was herself. She tried to control her fear and slowly succeeded, only to find it replaced by visions of her friends' deaths parading before her tightly closed eyes. Kirk stabbed by the manticore's poison darts; Spock pierced in the chest by the unicorn's horn; McCoy bitten by Idris the demon-cat; Sulu's eyes plucked out by the raven; Chekov sliced open by the demons' swords; Christine drowned in the harper's pool.

'No! No!'

The images became more detailed, more violent, and bloodier. She was caught in a nightmare, and could not wake up. ' Concentrate,' she ordered herself. ' This is unreal. It's a spell woven by Modwenna to stop us taking the herbs, perhaps to keep us here until Medrikhor's forces arrive. Break it. You can do it. Think about the Enterprise. Captain Kirk is sitting on the centre seat; Mr Spock is at the science station. Everything is normal. No-one is hurt.'

An eternity passed. She could not rid herself of the horrific visions and there was no respite from the pain. She was going to die here and never see the Enterprise again.

A howl penetrated her torment. There was a sudden silence and the images disappeared. The pain subsided and she opened her eyes, weaving drunkenly for a moment until the cavern around her steadied. The obelisk had shattered and beside it lay the faithful wolf who had been their guide.

"Lorc!" Uhura hurried forward and knelt beside the blood-streaked animal. His eyes were filming over, his breathing faint as she stroked his bony head. "What did you do?" she whispered, scarcely aware of McCoy crouching beside her to examine the wolf. Lorc's voice was barely distinguishable as he tried to communicate and a few moments later he drew his final laboured breath and was still. Tears slid down Uhura's face as she continued to pet the creature's fur. "He said that his destiny has been fulfilled. I don't understand. Why did he have to die?"

"Somehow he broke the spell, Nyota," McCoy murmured. He lifted her hands and drew her to her feet. "He saved us."

A strong arm surrounded her and she looked up into Gwilym's face. The sympathy and love she saw there was too much for her overwrought nerves and she pressed her face into his chest and wept. He rocked her gently for a few seconds. "My lady, thou art the bravest person I have ever met." He kissed the top of her head. "The noble beast didst willingly give his life for thee. 'Tis said that the wolf-kind are favourites of the goddess. He has done her bidding in this."

"Then the goddess is a harsh mistress," Uhura murmured as she soaked in Gwilym's warmth and comfort until her strength returned and she was able to step back. "Thank you," she said. A smile lit up his face and warmed his vivid blue eyes.

"I have the herbs," McCoy's voice intruded.

Uhura turned to him. "We had better leave here before they find us. This was obviously a trap."

McCoy nodded. "Yes, but we've lost our guide. How will we find Emrys' hidden glade?"

Gwilym stepped forward. "I can assist ye. In my youth I didst travel extensively in this fair land."

"That was a long time ago," McCoy reminded him.

"Even then didst the Library of Learning exist. I visited it many times and didst explore the surrounding wood. We shall find the harper's glade. I give ye my pledge."

"Lead on then, Gwilym," Uhura said brokenly as she looked down at Lorc's still body. With a sigh she turned away and saw that the cave was filled with silently watching animals. She spoke to them. "All those who value freedom and truth must fight or else Evil shall totally rule the land. You will be hunted, tortured and killed by Medrikhor's servants unless he is overthrown. Join us at the great battle which is to come. Don't allow the wolf's sacrifice to be in vain. Go tell your kin that fulfilment of the prophecy is at hand."

With the sounds of their assent in her ears, Uhura led the way from the underground caverns to the surface. A pack of thin grey wolves waited for them, intently watching their emergence. Uhura stepped forward and one small she-wolf left the others and sat down at her feet.

"Who are you?" Uhura asked.

Large glowing eyes stared up at her. Lorc was our pack leader. We pledge ourselves to you, Lady, and will stand by you and yours. Allow us to be your escorts in the journey ahead.

Uhura crouched down beside the animal. "I thank you. Lorc was a true and steadfast friend. What are you called?"

Xyra is my pup name.

"Then you're still a child?"

No, Lady, I am almost grown, the she-wolf replied defensively.

Uhura smiled and stroked the soft fur. "Then Xyra, wolf-maiden, tell your pack that I would be honoured by their help."

There was shy delight from the young wolf and she licked Uhura's hand before returning to the others. Uhura explained the interchange to her curious companions and before long they were heading back to the camp to rest after their ordeal. Surrounded by the wolves they slept undisturbed.

***

McCoy kept a close watch on Uhura. The young woman was pushing herself too hard and he was concerned over her health. The spell had taken its toll on Gwilym and himself but they had both recovered faster than Uhura. McCoy suspected that something further troubled her and after they made camp the following evening he settled down beside her. "Are you okay, Nyota?" he asked.

She smiled and glanced down. "Of course I am, Doctor."

"You forget I'm your friendly country doctor. I'm always here to listen."

Uhura sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "It's the death of Lorc. The terrible visions forced on me."

McCoy nodded. "I understand. I got them as well. They were too realistic." He shuddered. "I wasn't attached to the wolf the way you were but your grief over his death is normal. You spoke with him and he was a real person to you. Remember his sacrifice with pride. He did it for you."

Uhura allowed further tears to flow. "I know, Doctor."

Xyra padded over to them, nuzzled Uhura's hand and growled softly. "She likes you," McCoy stated. "She's a lovely animal."

Uhura was silent for a moment then turned to him. "She says that your scent is a good one."

McCoy laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."

The day had been long and McCoy was soon asleep but he was rudely awakened at the dead of night by an eerie whining. He sat up quickly, sensing the movement of his companions struggling to their feet. It was dark. All that could be seen were the gleaming red eyes of their lupine guards.

"They smell danger," Uhura whispered.

"Evil doth seek us out," Gwilym stated. "I am ready to grapple with it. Ah for my trusty blade, Demonstalker. Alas the hag didst steal it from mine hand."

The muscular young man had been a warrior but surely centuries of captivity must have rusted his martial skills. McCoy hoped that the fighting instincts of the Prince of Arbara had not been completely eradicated but the possibility was there. Gwilym talked bravely enough but, as yet, had demonstrated little actual proof of his words. 'Grow up!' McCoy chided himself as he recognised the absurd jealousy he felt over the other man's physical appearance and rapport with Uhura.

The three stood close together and McCoy was reassured by the others' warmth. Surrounding them the wolves growled menacingly. "Do they know what's out there, Uhura?"

"Xyra is making little sense, Doctor. She describes them as the formless ones."

There was a gasp of fear from their companion. "The Spectres of Death! It is said that any who look into their eyes doth join their inhuman ranks."

Once McCoy would have dismissed the words as fanciful but not now. "What are they?" he asked. "If we know then perhaps we can find a way to defeat them."

Gwilym trembled. "Legends say they are souls of those who didst make pact with Medrikhor to secure riches during their lifetime. In return they didst pledge service to him for all eternity."

McCoy reached out to reassure him. "The old Faust legend," he murmured.

"Similar, anyway," Uhura commented.

"I beseech thy forgiveness for my craven behaviour. Once I didst fear nothing. Alas I am no longer Gwilym, Warrior-Prince of Arbara."

"Nonsense," Uhura rejected. "You are a hero, Gwilym. You don't need a sword to fight spectres. There must be another way. Think."

A sudden shrill chorus of inhuman cries turned McCoy's blood to ice. He closed his eyes and bit his lip until it bled, fear of the unknown terror stalking them and intensifying with each passing second. A small hand clutched his. Its touch sent waves of relief through him and he gratefully returned the pressure. A moment later he felt Gwilym's hard grip on his other hand and the fear diminished further.

"It is written in the scroll of Dynaris Arch-Mage," Gwilym said, "which I recall reading in my youth. 'A spectre hath power only over those who fearest it. Unite with thy comrades in an unbroken circle. Thinketh only of love and goodwill to all. Sendeth such thoughts even unto that which torments thee. The Spectre of Death cannot abideth love's strength.'"

"Kill it with kindness," McCoy said.

Uhura chuckled. "Seems like it, Doctor."

'Dammit, I'm a doctor not a magician,' McCoy thought as he tried to send out loving thoughts to the menace. It didn't seem to be working. The pervasive sense of evil in the air could be breathed in.

The wolves snapped at the unseen assailants. A cacophony of noise filled the small clearing as other night creatures added their voices. A sorcerous howling wind whirled around them, and a blinding light penetrated even his closed eyelids. He knew he should not open them but his scientific curiosity defeated his common sense and he peered at the gaping void that had appeared outside the circle of wolves. It hung two metres high in the air. The colours and shapes within its depth shifted continuously like a giant kaleidoscope and McCoy felt drawn to its beauty. He stepped forward. Surely nothing so lovely could be dangerous. The pattern changed again and formed a recognisable face. "Joanna?" he murmured confusedly. What was his daughter doing here?

"Nay," Gwilym said urgently, tugging at his hand. "Healer, the vision doth bewitch thee."

McCoy blinked. "What?" He felt dizzy, disorientated.

"Doctor." Uhura's tone was concerned. "Don't look. It's a trap."

A roaring pounded in McCoy's ears and increased in volume until he feared the damage it could cause to his hearing. He clung to the solidity of his companions' hands and fought the malevolence with all the warm feelings he could summon. Love for the daughter he rarely saw and for Jim who had become like a son to him. Affection for Nyota, Christine and all the crew who were also - in a sense - his children and despite himself for Spock, that irritating, super-genius who always seemed to get his back up. 'Dammit if I'm not more protective of that Vulcan than anyone else.'

"Return Spectres of Death," a menacing bass voice boomed. "You have failed. Eternal torment shall be your punishment."

Screams of terror reverberated from beyond the circle. Fear became a living entity and McCoy almost collapsed under its influence. A flash of power shot through the night then there was a sudden quiet as the evil force drained away. McCoy could feel the others shaking and in need of comfort himself he enfolded his companions in his arms. They clung together until calm then with embarrassed smiles stepped back.

"We must depart this place at once," Gwilym said. "The Evil King doth know our location. He hath many allies and wilst send them against us."

It was a logical assumption and within minutes they were heading along the winding tracks on a route to take them out of the forest.

We're travelling like the proverbial wind, McCoy mused as they stopped for an essential rest, but despite his exhaustion he did not complain. The sooner they were away from here the better.

They reached the Eastern Way and walked along its smooth surface, delighted to be away from the forest's sinister influence. A small army of animals scurried, flew or ran alongside them and McCoy soon became used to the variety who came, were given instructions by Uhura, then left to rally their kin. Gwilym now carried a stout club brought to him, at Uhura's request, by a giant eagle but no-one asked where the weapon had been found and the prince seemed content with it. They maintained their pace and it seemed like no time before they reached the crossroad. They entered the wood and after consultation with some of the animal inhabitants Uhura was able to find a familiar glade. All signs of the manticore's body had disappeared but the dead trees bore witness to the tragic events of only weeks before. McCoy caught a glimpse of the remaining dryads but no contact was made and he assumed that the lovely creatures were afraid to come near. They walked on and soon arrived at the river where the Lady Wynonna had gifted them with the magic water.

Gwilym gazed at the beautiful scene. "I wouldst cleanse myself in this wondrous river. Would the goddess permit it, my lady?"

Uhura shrugged and looked at McCoy. "How can we contact her?"

McCoy grinned a little. "Why not ask the little fishes, Nyota." She had talked to land and airborne creatures so surely it was possible to converse with those who lived in the water.

"The prophecy doesn't mention fish but I'll try."

McCoy and Gwilym stood by as Uhura knelt and made an attempt to communicate with the tiny creatures who swam in or were swept along by the fast current. After a time she stood up, shook her head and walked downstream. The men followed but the wolf pack settled down on the river bank. McCoy noted how intently Gwilym watched Uhura, ready to protect her from any menace, and he could not restrain his touch of annoyance at the prince's presumption. Uhura stopped and summoned a small group of frogs to her. They croaked noisily and with a cry of joy the young woman proceeded to inquire about Wynonna. After a lengthy discussion the frogs hopped away and Uhura turned to her companions. "They'll search for her and relay our presence to all the woodland creatures. Let's return to our wolf friends and wait."

***

They made camp for the night. Gwilym soon had expertly lit a fire and the three weary travellers rested beside its cheerful glow and ate a simple meal of fruit and water. Xyra left her pack to sit by Uhura's feet and contentedly stretched, allowing herself to be scratched behind the ears like a big dog.

Uhura watched the play of firelight on the chiselled features of the prince. She had never met a more handsome or chivalrous man in her life and her curiosity to know more about him prompted her to ask about his past. There had been no time before.

Gwilym smiled, his perfect teeth glinting in the glow of the fire. "I am the son of King Gwion of Arbara. My mother died when I was but a child. I can scarcely recall her features. I was barely more than a stripling when a demon harried the land. Many didst try to destroy it - sorcerers, warriors, and witch-women - but none were successful so my father sent word to Elvenhome. The eldritch folk rarely concern themselves with the world of humans and did not reply. In desperation Gwion took me to a secret vault beneath the royal palace of Arbara and didst show me the mighty elven blade, Demonstalker, its power lying dormant awaiting its rightful master. It had been there for many centuries, last wielded by my ancestor, Vajed Elf-Prince."

"Of course!" Uhura interrupted. "The halfling prince who fought the dragon." It was all beginning to connect now. She wondered what her missing comrades were encountering in their adventures. Were they safe? Would they bring more strands of the puzzle together?

"Aye, Lady. Many legends extol his virtues and I have oft desired to emulate his deeds. My sire didst intend to battle the demon himself but he was elderly and frail. I couldst not permit his sacrifice and didst volunteer to take his place. At first he would not permit it but his advisors persuaded him and he gave his blessing to the venture."

The young man's eyes grew moist and for a moment he was silent. Uhura blinked. Young man? He's centuries old! she reminded herself. Yet it was difficult not to take him at face value. By human reckoning he was in his early twenties. Why had he not aged? If it was due to Modwenna's enchantment then Gwilym should have accelerated into old age in the same manner as his captor had. However if his ageing had been arrested by the spell which had turned him into an animal perhaps now he would live out a normal life span.

Gwilym sat up straight and drew his legs beneath him. "Forgive me. I am heartsore at knowing I wilst never see my sire again."

Uhura leaned over and patted his wrist. "I understand. It's all right."

He nodded. "I thank thee, my lady. I shall continue with my tale. After leaving Arbara I had many adventures but at last didst reach the Plains of Mardon and encountered Medrawt Demon-Lord. After a mighty battle I pierced his throat with my blade. I didst try to call upon the sword's power but alas my eldritch blood is much diluted and I could not kill one whose evil was so mighty. He screamed in agony and before mine eyes didst change."

Uhura clenched his trembling hand between her own.. "Easy Gwilym, you don't have to tell us any more." The clear blue eyes stared fixedly ahead as if the horror he recalled was too much to bear.

"I must, Lady. For too long hath this haunted me." He looked at her and there was a vulnerability in him which roused deep instincts in her. "It is difficult to describe the demon's escape. It became as liquid and flowed away into a crevasse. Then it didst disappear. A great darkness covered the land and I became lost. When the sun didst reappear I found myself in the Forest of Fear and there encountered Modwenna. I was injured unto death but she cured me with the magic herbs. I asked her for directions to the Eastern Way and she promised to guide me once I had partaken of a repast. I was suspicious of her simpering ways. She appeared as a beauteous maiden but something in her eyes seemed ancient. Her cat watched me as if I were its prey."

"You were right to be suspicious," McCoy said. "If not for Uhura I'd have been the cat's dinner."

Gwilym's smile enhanced his male beauty. "The Lady hath the courage and beauty of a goddess."

Uhura felt the heat on her face but ignored it. "What happened then, Gwilym?"

"She didst try to tempt me to her bed. I resisted and she didst vent her spleen upon me. I was ensorcelled and remained as a stag until you, my lady, rescued me."

"Did she never return you to your human form?" McCoy asked.

"I wouldst not lie with the hag," he replied.

"I admire your principles," McCoy commented, "but another might have submitted to her wishes and perhaps found a way to escape."

Gwilym stood and paced the campsite. "I wouldst have been enslaved forever, Healer. Better to be an animal and partake of the freedom of the valley."

"What about the sword?" Uhura asked.

"Alas I do not know of its fate. Modwenna's demon took it from the cottage and didst return empty-handed. I couldst not follow as I was bespelled and unable to leave the hag's demesne."

Uhura exchanged glances with McCoy. Gwilym had suffered long but was it possible that he had a major role to play in the coming events? If, as Ayrond believed, the royal house had been wiped out then Gwilym's function was clear.

Despite Uhura's exhaustion, sleep took a long time in coming that night as she considered all that had happened. Had preparation for the fulfilment of the prophecy been made hundreds of years ago when Prince Gwilym had been ensorcelled? What did the demon-lord and the elven blade have to do with it - if anything? Her thoughts tumbled around her mind until she finally fell into a fitful slumber filled with vivid dreams.

***

Gwilym bathed in the river. He had awakened early and with an overwhelming need to cleanse himself. Although he knew that they awaited the river-goddess's permission he nevertheless could not resist and had plunged in. He sat in the shallows, splashed happily, soaked his hair and revelled in the feel of the cool water on his head and body until soft laughter alerted him to another's presence. He turned his head and came face to face with a beautiful woman whose long dark curling hair floated in the water behind her. "Who art thou?" he asked, a flush staining his skin.

Her smile was tender. "I am Wynonna, Lady of the River. Thou, handsome one, are trespassing."

Panic caused him to stand up and wade out of the water. His blush deepened as he realised his nakedness yet the female deity did not appear angry with him, but appreciative of his physique. He scrambled in a most undignified manner to the river-bank, picked up his trews and draped them over his middle. He swallowed. "I beg thy pardon, Lady, but I had need of cleansing."

Her merry laughter was pleasant to the ear but naiads could be capricious and he did not dare relax his vigilance. The sound awoke his companions. The Healer stood up, assisted the Lady Nyota to her feet and they both greeted their visitor. The goddess's garments shimmered around her tall form as she emerged from the river. Gwilym watched as Uhura and McCoy recounted their adventures and often Wynonna's gaze would rest upon him. Unobtrusively he donned his attire as the others talked and only when sure that the naiad would not punish him for his misdemeanour did he dare to join them.

"You are a fine man," Wynonna remarked. "I see few such charming sights in these dire times."

He flushed again and glanced down at the ground. Uhura's arm slipped around his waist. "Don't tease him, Lady. He has suffered the consequences of the hag's ardour. Leave him be. We need your guidance to the harper's glade. The Healer has the herbs and must fulfil this part of the prophecy."

"Exactly," McCoy agreed. "Then we must find the others."

The goddess sighed. "Very well. I know of the place however I do not have the magic to unlock the elven spell which guards it. I am barred by wards that reach even unto the underground streams that flow to the hidden pool of my sister, Caireen. It has been many years since I have seen her."

The Healer exchanged an uneasy look with the Queen then said, "Wynonna, we're worried about our friends. They're all missing. Jim and Spock - I mean, the King and Halfling - were dragged under the pool. We lost our other three companions in the mists." He scratched his head. "It's a long story."

The goddess's eyes narrowed. "Do you suggest that my sister has betrayed her kind? She is foolish and mischievous but I cannot believe she would do Evil's bidding." She drew her gossamer garments around herself. "Pray follow me."

Gwilym had never seen an elf. The prospect of meeting one of his distant kin both excited and awed him and, as he brought up the rear of the small party, his thoughts were in turmoil. The wolves travelled with them for half a day then suddenly disappeared into a dark thicket. His lady did not seemed concerned and after a short rest the four continued on their journey. The steady pace and quiet of the wood calmed him. The vigilance needed to guard the others reminded him of quests undertaken as a boy when he had learned, like any other young warrior, how to protect his people. But nothing in his long and eventful life had prepared him for the wondrous sight which greeted the group as they reached a giant tree which almost completely blotted out the light with its lush foliage. There, neighing softly were two members of a legendary species. Unicorns.

The lady of his heart clapped her dainty hands together. "Chladagh, we're so pleased to see you." She approached the unicorn and conversed with it for a time. Gwilym marvelled at that ability. To speak the animal tongue was a miraculous gift and he was filled with pride at his lady's accomplishments. One day, after the great battle against evil was over, he would speak of his hopes for their future. Now he could only watch and marvel at her.

Uhura's eyes were wet as she translated Chladagh's account of Kirk's abduction and her ignorance over the whereabouts of any of the others. "She parted from Ayrond after the ogre's attack and returned here to wait and guide us through," she added.

The Doctor nodded but did not speak. His hunched shoulders eloquently showed his unhappiness and Uhura touched his arm. He smiled reassuringly at her as they waited the few moments it took for the enchantment to be breached and, this time, hardly noticed the eerie sensation. They followed Chladagh and her prancing foal to the harper's picturesque cottage. Gwilym trailed behind them with awe plainly showing on his face and the regal figure of Wynonna brought up the rear.

"Emrys," McCoy called as they reached the open door of the small dwelling. There was no reply and the Doctor entered and looked around. Uhura followed him, taking in the disarray of the room and the smell of sickness pervading the atmosphere. They headed for the other chamber and with a sinking feeling she saw the elf, looking wasted and drawn, lying motionless on a low bed. McCoy hurried over, examined the thin form then pronounced, "He's very sick. I don't know if he'll survive."

"Modwenna said to make a brew from the herbs," Uhura reminded.

"Magic, mumbo, jumbo, " McCoy muttered as he removed the wooden casket from his pack. "Gwilym, I need a fire and hot water."

The prince returned to the outer room leaving Uhura, McCoy and Wynonna with the now half-awake elf. Emrys' once vivid eyes were dull, his white hair was limp and his skin almost translucent.

"I have the herbs. You'll soon be better," McCoy reassured. The elf's albino eyelashes closed and the pale lips quivered. "Rest now," he added.

The Doctor grumbled continuously as he measured out the herbs and prepared the brew. Uhura smiled sympathetically. McCoy always complained about the technology he used on the Enterprise and swore by the treatments of his predecessors. Now that he was forced into using a remedy from an even more ancient tradition, he was wishing for his sickbay diagnostic scanners. Uhura could almost imagine Spock's response to the Doctor's remarks. Desperately wishing for the sight of her shipmates again, she sniffed and wiped at a suddenly moist eye.

Emrys, held upright by the wide-eyed Gwilym, sipped at the hot infusion. Uhura smiled affectionately. Her stag prince was speechless in the presence of one of the elven folk, his expression clearly revealing his wonder. She watched as McCoy urged Emrys to drink the whole concoction. The elf drained the cup, his eyelids fluttered and a moment later he was asleep.

McCoy examined him then shook his head. "How do I know I haven't killed him with this stuff?"

Gwilym raised his hand. "Nay, Healer. This is the manner of the healing. It happened thus to me. After a deep repose I didst awaken and was cured of all injury."

McCoy's look was sceptical.

The night passed slowly. Wynonna and Chladagh left; the goddess to search the pool for her sister and Chladagh to rally her herd in readiness for the final conflict. The unicorn was certain that she would find Spock then be reunited with them all at the appointed time. Uhura was sad to see Chladagh and her delightful foal leave but knew it was impossible to keep them here. The prophecy was working in its mysterious way and some, like the unicorn-queen, seemed to know their part in it.

Uhura, McCoy and Gwilym took turns watching the harper but he showed no signs of discomfort and rested peacefully. As her two companions slept, Uhura sat on a bedside chair and stared out of the window at the fairytale glade outside. The pearly dawn light cast a soft glow on the Pool of Knowledge as it rippled gently in the morning breeze. A soft moan roused her and she turned to check the patient. His jade eyes were wide open and his long finely boned hands were raised as if searching for something or someone. Uhura clasped her fingers around his. "It's all right, Emrys. You're safe."

His head jerked from side to side, the movements becoming more frantic with each moment. His long white hair was tangled and Uhura could see strands being pulled out as his actions became frenzied. "Doctor," Uhura called. It was possible that the elf was having some kind of seizure. She was not a medic and had no idea of how to deal with it.

A sleepy-eyed McCoy rushed in, sized up the situation and immediately took over. Uhura watched as he quietened the patient using methods known to doctors since time immemorial. Gwilym entered the room and stood beside her; his large hand touched her shoulder and he smiled down at her. With a sigh, Uhura leaned against his chest for she was tired and his old fashioned chivalry, his concern for her welfare was very appealing.

"He seems to have settled," McCoy began, "I think he'll sleep."

Without warning the elf sat upright on the bed, his eyes staring blindly into nothingness. "No!" The word was screamed in horror.

"He can speak!" McCoy exclaimed. "The remedy has worked." He clasped Emrys' shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him down. The elf shook his head, sweat pouring from his body in rivulets, his arms flailing wildly. "Look his damaged hands are healed. I don't believe this!"

"The herbs of healing are a wondrous magic," Gwilym said. "Legends tell that in the hands of the Great Healer, they can raise one from death's foul grip."

Emrys quietened under McCoy's soothing ministrations. He lay passively, permitting his mouth to be examined and smiled slightly at the comment. "His tongue has grown back!"

"Water," the harper whispered in a voice rough with disuse.

Uhura reached for a goblet and held it to the elf's parched lips. The water was gulped down and she smiled at him, murmuring, "Not too fast now."

His thirst quenched, Emrys allowed himself to be bathed with a soft cloth, garbed in a clean robe and propped up against a mound of pillows. Uhura combed his hair and he thanked her courteously.

"How do you feel now?" she asked.

"I am cured of my afflictions, Lady, thanks to you and the Healer. Now pray tell me of your adventures since you left my abode."

As she sat on the bed and told the tale, Uhura was conscious of Gwilym standing by her side, intently watching both her and the harper's every movement. She smiled to herself knowing he was jealous of her paying attention to another man. So the male ego was just the same in this universe!

Emrys recovered quickly and McCoy could not find any reason to order him to stay in bed. The four of them went out into the brilliant sunlight and the tall elf walked over to the pool and stared into its depths. "Truly it is beautiful." He turned and stretched his arms out as if encompassing the whole of the hidden glade. "I have been a prisoner here for many years but now that time is past. I may travel Arigol again and this time there shall be none to gainsay me."

He faced them and something kindled deep within his gaze. Suddenly a spear of grey light shot eerily from his eyes. A cold shiver slithered up and down Uhura's spine and she blinked as if to dispel the sight of a dark aura that appeared to surround the elf's slim form. She had to be hallucinating. She struggled to move her limbs and found, to her horror, that she was paralysed. What was happening? What was Emrys doing? She tried to call to him, to the others who stood as still as she, but her vocal chords refused to obey her. A moment later the paralysis was gone and she reached out to touch Gwilym's arm. There was something she needed to know, a question she also wanted to ask McCoy but could not remember. She rubbed at her eyes, searched her most recent thoughts but the elusive memory had disappeared.

A dark shadow blotted out the light. She looked up and, to her amazement, saw the giant winged shape of the most famous of mythical beings - a dragon. Even more startling were the identities of the riders on the beast's back. Tears of happiness fell down her cheeks and she laughed and cried out greetings to the friends she thought never to see again. Beside her, McCoy was in a similar emotional state. Gwilym gaped at the awesome sight but he did not flinch and Uhura was pleased by his courage.

Emrys retreated to his cottage and stood trembling as the dragon descended. McCoy, ever the medic, noticed this. "Sit down, Emrys. You're just out of your sickbed." He sprinted over and helped the elf to seat himself on the grass.

The fantastic creature circled several times before it finally settled on an open space close to the pool. Its wings fluttered several times, were tightly drawn up against its scaled body, before it lowered its magnificent head to the ground and surveyed the awed watchers. Three excited people slid from its back, ran towards them and soon were enfolded in hugs. Everyone was talking at once and it was many minutes before they calmed down.

Uhura beckoned to the silent prince who stood watching them. She introduced him and he bowed civilly to Christine and Chekov, however his reaction on meeting Sulu surprised her.

Gwilym's eyes flashed with anger and he stepped forward threateningly. "Who is this knave who hath my sword?" he demanded, towering over the smaller man.

"Your sword? I won it from the demon, Rannilt," Sulu responded, standing his ground. "I used it to kill the vampire."

Gwilym's eyes widened and a flush darkened his bronzed skin. "Forgive me. Thou must be the Swordsman of the Prophecy. Thy blade once didst belong to the Royal House of Arbara. I wielded it against a demon but alas it was stolen from me by the witch who ensorcelled me."

Sulu's amazement was plain to see. "Now my rhyme makes some sense. Are you an elf?" The helmsman frowned. "But you don't have pointed ears."

As they spoke more amicably now, Uhura sighed with relief and turned to Christine with a smile. The nurse was holding the pendant she wore and was gazing intently at its ruby stone. "Christine?"

"Look how the colour changes. The last time this happened an evil creature, a harpy was close."

"There's nothing evil here is there?" Uhura asked. However she could not forget the time she had seen her captain and first officer, dragged down into the deep water. Could the gem be sensitive to whatever had done that?

Christine walked to the pool, stood there for a moment then shook her head. She turned and after changing direction several times headed straight towards the cottage. "The ruby is sensing evil. It's close, very close. Slievengyl, why is there evil in this clearing?"

The dragon hissed and Uhura understood her. Lady, that is for you to discover and to resolve.

The nurse stopped in front of the elf. Emrys huddled on hands and knees, his long hair touching the ground. His body shivered violently and he moaned piteously. "Emrys?" Christine murmured. "Not you. No, not you!"

McCoy hurried over and grabbed her arm. "The herbs have just cured him, Christine. Leave him alone. He's weak."

She gave him a startled glance. "He's not what he seems, Doctor."

The harper looked up, his green eyes shining with malignancy, and rasped, "I am Veklon the Dark King's servant. I have taken Emrys' will and shall use it to thwart you. My liege has so commanded."

He stood up, a dark familiar presence surrounding him. Uhura remembered now. This is what had happened earlier, only moments before the dragon's arrival. Perhaps Veklon had been frightened off by that very event. Time slowed as all of them were caught in the spell. Uhura tried to speak, to move, but the force holding her and the others were too powerful.

Emrys bared his teeth. It was the most vicious smile Uhura had seen in her life. They were all at the mercy of Medrikhor's sorcery and so, she realised, was the harper. Captured, tortured and maimed by the evil King, Emrys had also been implanted with some entity whose mission was to hinder perhaps even kill them and ruin the chances of the prophecy being fulfilled.

The sky darkened. The dragon roared and an echoing chorus boomed around the glade. The beating of many wings added to the cacophony. More dragons? Uhura gritted her teeth. No. I can't bear this. I can't.

There was a sudden unnatural quiet.

'Have I gone deaf?' she wondered.

A sickly sweet odour settled around her and she breathed it in. She fought knowing that Veklon's evil sorcery was the source. She must not succumb. The demon was preparing to deliver them to Medrikhor and if that happened Uhura knew they would never see home again.

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