“To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” asked Dracula, his crimson eyes gleaming in the dimness.
“I came to reason with you,” said the homed man. “To persuade you to go away and leave me to finish my business in peace.”
“You must be as crazy as you are depraved,” Colossus growled.
Belasco sighed and shook his head. “Poor, foolish Piotr. You’ve borne such a heavy burden of anger for so long, and your rancor is based on a misapprehension. You think I tortured Illyana, but the truth is more complex. As often as not, she delighted in the life I gave her. Someday, when we have the time. I’ll tell you of the exquisite pleasures we shared, pleasures of the spirit and—”
The Russian resumed his advance, “You filthy, lying—” “Sure he’s lying,” said Kitty from the cockpit. “So don’t let him get to you!”
Though trembling with rage, Piotr halted once more.
“You must know we won’t just turn around and go away,” Amanda said. Her face was very pale—Kurt suspected that something about Belasco’s projection was oppressive to her mystical perceptions, or else that she was simply afraid—but her dulcet voice was steady.
“But you’re already too late to stop me,” Belasco replied, the end of his pointed tail casually coiling, then straightening again. “The Elder Gods will return this very night.” Kurt felt a shock of dismay. “The sun will rise—assuming that it pleases them to permit it to rise—on a glorious new world. With your various talents, you could win places of honor in the new order.” He gave Nightcrawler another malignant smile. ‘ ‘I can guarantee from past experience that you at least would be happy worshipping at the altars of Hell, happier than you’ve ever been before. You have no conception of the appetites slumbering in your soul.”
“If your victory is already a fait accompli,” asked Dracula dryly, stalking closer to the apparition, “then why do you care if we come to Natchez or not?”
“I’d simply like to ease my mind,” Belasco said. The Midnight Runner bounced in the turbulence, and for an instant, the insubstantial form of the sorcerer failed to move in perfect sync with it. His red-booted feet slipped into the floor. “It would be nice, though by no means essential, to be able to concentrate on the work of high magic before me without the distraction of knowing that you’re roaming the night hunting me. In truth, Your Grace, though I made my offer of amnesty in good faith, I don’t expect your new minions to abandon the chase. There’s too much bad blood between us. Nor does the prospect of their continued opposition trouble me. They’re nothing by themselves, which you know as well as I. Indeed, it would be convenient to have them close at hand after the Dark Ones return, when I’ll have the leisure to settle old scores. But I concede there’s a chance, albeit a slim one, that you yourself could prove a bit more troublesome. Yet you and I have never been adversaries before, and I see no reason why we shouldn’t reach an accommodation now. Can’t we discuss our situation like gentlemen?’1’
Dracula glided closer to him, his ink-black cloak sweeping noiselessly down the aisle. “Very well,” he said. “Make your case.” ,
Piotr opened his mouth, obviously to blurt out a protest. Kurt whispered, “Quiet!”
“But—”
“If Dracula’s inclined to change sides, I’d rather find out now. Besides, if we let Belasco talk, we might learn something.’’
Colossus nodded grimly. “Very well.”
Kurt pivoted toward Amanda to ask her if she could trace the magic responsible for Belasco's projection back to its source. But, her eyes closed, the blonde sorceress was murmuring under her breath and making sinuous gestures with her left hand. Nightcrawler assumed that she was either already trying to find the warlock or attempting something else worthwhile, so he left her to do it undisturbed.
Meanwhile, Belasco said, “As I see it, Your Grace, we’re two of a kind. We’re both immortal. We both aspire to sit in dominion over the common run of humanity, and very sensibly so, considering the eldritch might and wisdom we possess. We even share common enemies in these wretched X-Men, for all that you’ve currently cozened them into your service. Surely we’re natural allies.”
Watching the two tall figures converse, the one a devil incarnate in scarlet and gold, the other a dead yet animate creature of shadow and bone-white pallor, for a moment Kurt couldn’t help perceiving them as Belasco did. They were true princes of evil, uncanny beings who’d broken the shackles of time, with minds subtle beyond any mortal’s understanding and powers that no mere mutant could match. They made him feel like a child eavesdropping on some profound and incomprehensible adult conversation. He struggled to push the demoralizing comparison and the uneasiness that had produced it out of his head.
“I’ve seldom had much use for allies,” Dracula said. “I much prefer vassals/*
“Perhaps that’s because hitherto, you’d never encountered your equal,” Belasco said. “Now at last you have. Join me, Count, and I promise that the Elder Gods will favor you as they do me. You and I will rule the world as their satraps.” The vampire nodded gravely. “My kingdom come at last.” “Exactly. So why not turn and slaughter the mutants and their tame witch?”
“How satisfying that would be,” Dracula said. Pivoting, he gave the members of Excalibur a diabolical smile, and Kurt felt the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end. ‘ ‘None of them could withstand me, not even the little Kitten with her ability to become a phantom. I could mesmerize her and compel her to turn solid again, just as I could force the peasant to batter his comrades to pulp, then discard his armor and bare his throat when his work was through® Nightcrawler prepared himself to lunge and attack the vampire, but then, his mantle swirling, the creature in black turned back to face Belasco. ‘ ‘But alas, now is not the time for that particular indulgence.:” The sorcerer frowned. “May I ask why not?’*
“I’ve given them my oath.”
Belasco shook his head. “I never expected such puerile sentimentality from you.”
“Which demonstrates how little you understand me. In point of fact, magician, I find your remarks presumptuous and offensive, because despite some superficial similarities in our histories, our characters are in no manner alike. For all your pretensions to majesty, you’re merely a lackey groveling at the feet of your precious Dark Ones. Whereas Dracula recognizes no power greater than himself.”
“You would,” Belasco said, “if you beheld my gods in all their grandeur.”
Dracula sneered. “I trust not.”
“Curse your blasphemy and your arrogance!” Belasco snapped. “They are our creators, our fathers and mothers in darkness. All that we are, we owe to them.”
“I dare say that’s true of you,” said the lord of the undead. “I doubt you could turn milk into butter until you knelt to accept the Elder Gods’ yoke. But I’m not beholden to any other creature of darkness. I am darkness. I’ve spat in the faces of both Jehovah and Mephisto in my time, and when I claim the rulership of the world, I’ll reign as its absolute master, not some self-proclaimed deity’s viceroy and assuredly not as coemperor with the pathetic likes of you. And even were it otherwise, you stole from me, Belasco. You dared to subvert my coven, and that insult I can never forgive.”
“So be it,” said the ghostly figure in red. The suaveness was all but gone from his voice, replaced by a throbbing note of anger. “I thought that I might have found a peer and a kindred spirit at last, but evidently I was mistaken. Spam me then, and perish in your folly and your pride.”
“It will take more than you and your masters to slay me.” His urbanity reasserting itself, Belasco smiled. “Indeed. Well, blood-drinker, we shall see. We’ve been talking together for awhile now. Long enough for me to establish a steady current of magic from my sanctuary to your airplane, a channel of power I can use to send you another visitor. It’s the least of the spawn of the Dark Ones, a minnow among whales, an entity so paltry by comparison that Agamotto’s wards of imprisonment failed to recognize it fo
r what it was and bind it. If you can cope with its attentions, then it will be time enough to consider how you might fare against its kin.”
The sorcerer’s image vanished. A split second later, the Runner lurched as if some giant had pounded it with his fist. If not for his clinging power, Kurt might well have been hurled from his feet. Piotr stumbled and snatched at one of the consoles of the ECM station to keep from falling. Dracula maintained his balance by dropping into a crouch, like a black panther ready to pounce on an adversary. He bared his fangs, and his red eyes gleamed.
The jet listed to port and plummeted, while Kitty frantically fought the controls. At last she pulled the Runner out of its dive. Nightcrawler heard the engines roaring, pushed to their limit, and simultaneously realized that the cabin had grown darker. Something black was covering the windows.
“Belasco’s monster just dropped on top of us,” said Sha-dowcat tensely, “and it seems to be about as big and heavy as the plane. It’s messing with the ailerons, and even if it wasn’t, the Runner was never meant to carry this kind of load. Smooth move, Drac. You just had to have your little chat with Belasco, didn’t you?”
“Do you honestly think he would have simply slunk away without attacking if I’d refused to speak to him?” the vampire replied scornfully. “Besides, I was trying to hypnotize him. It might have worked, even though he was only present in his astral form.”
“Can you roll the ship?” Amanda said to Kitty, “Maybe shake the creature off?”
“You must be kidding,” Kitty replied. “It’s a miracle that we’re still in the air at all.” The Runner abruptly dove again, and she fought the controls until the nose came up once more.
Though Kurt was concerned by their situation, he also realized that the dismay he’d felt previously had yielded to excitement. He’d far rather pit his team and himself against an immediate physical challenge, something that could be outwitted or outfought, than endure any more of Belasco and Dracula’s verbal sparring. He wondered fleetingly if the exhilaration with which he greeted the danger actually did reflect the streak of darkness which both the sorcerer and the vampire had claimed to discern in his spirit, then pushed the thought from his mind. Even if it was true, it scarcely mattered at the moment.
He pivoted toward Amanda. “Belasco sent the monster with magic. Can you get rid of it the same way?’ ’
“I’ll try,” the sorceress said. She rose from her seat, and the transport’s shaking instantly threatened her equilibrium.
Kurt shifted behind her and put his hands around her waist. “I’ve got you, iiebchen," he said. “Just cast your spell.” Raising her hands above her head, throwing her head back, Amanda chanted rhymed iambic couplets in a language her lover didn’t recognize. The pace accelerated as she went along. The temperature in the cabin fluctuated, stifling hot one moment and freezing cold the next. Kurt felt as if mites were crawling through his dark blue fur. A ball of silvery light bloomed in the air before Amanda, then grew brighter and brighter, until at last it exploded in a dazzling, silent flash.
Kurt turned toward the nearest window. Blackness still covered the outside.
“I’m sorry,” Amanda said. “I can’t exorcise it.” “Useless,” Dracula said, sneering.
Kurt felt Amanda tense and wince. “That’s enough of that,” he snapped at the vampire.
The fuselage began to groan and shriek.
“Oh, joy,” Kitty said. “If it can’t make us crash, it’ll break open the plane and eat us. Or whatever it is that little baby Elder Gods do to people they don’t like.”
“We could ditch,” Amanda said.
“I can’t see where I’m going,” said Shadowcat, “but I know we’re flying over a populated area. I don’t want the Runner to crash on top of somebody,”
“And I shall not run from Belasco’s pet,” Piotr said with a growl.
Dracula nodded. “Spoken like a warrior.”
“I agree,” said Kurt. “We should fight, especially since the creature may be capable of picking off at least some of us as we make our way to the ground. We’re better off tackling it as a team. Here’s how we’ll do it. Shadowcat, you keep flying.” While Kitty’s phasing power might allow her to venture outside the plane without being swept away by the slipstream, she couldn’t strike at the monster while she was intangible. Nor were her martial arts skills, devastating as they could be against many opponents, likely to be much use against such a behemoth. “Hold us as steady as possible, reduce our speed as much as you can, and put us over the Mississippi. Amanda, you stay here and keep trying to exorcise the demon,” The sorceress too would be unable to operate effectively outside the plane, and in any case, her style of magic didn’t require her to make physical contact with its targets. “Colossus, Dracula, we’re going to go introduce ourselves to the monster. Questions?” No one had any. The roof of the transport creaked and buckled inward. The former circus star favored his comrades with a daredevil grin. “Excellent. Let’s go teach our uninvited passenger some manners.”
Nightcrawler yanked open a locker, removed a parachute, and quickly buckled it on. Unlike Amanda’s magical telepor-tation, his mutant gift was constrained by certain physical laws. If he teleported while he was moving, he’d arrive at this destination still possessing the same momentum. Which meant that if he fell from a great height, teleporting wouldn’t save him.
He drew his saber with its gleaming, well-honed blade and scratched, battered brass guard, then turned toward Amanda, intending to give her a fencer’s salute and a wink. But, seated once more, her blue eyes wide and focused on phenomena he couldn’t see, the Gypsy was already crooning another spell. So he simply moved to the hatch with Piotr and Dracula, neither of whom had bothered with a chute. In his metallic form,
Colossus could endure any fall without injury, and the vampire could assume another form to reach the ground safely
Kurt would have preferred simply to teleport from the cabin onto the monster’s back. But just as he couldn’t shed momentum by using his power, he also couldn’t displace himself safely to a destination he couldn't see and didn’t know. If he tried, he might arrive with his body partly or wholly inside another object, a mishap that would maim or kill him. Thus, with the creature’s mass obscuring the windows, it was better that he use the door.
Piotr pressed the buttons mounted on the frame in the proper sequence and the hatch started to slide aside. At once a cascade of black, wetly gleaming tendrils of flesh writhed through the opening, crumpling the shifting metal panel and engulfing the two mutants and the monarch of the undead behind it.
Tentacles, some as thick as Kurt’s forearm, others no bigger around than a baby’s finger, encircled his body, binding and crushing him like an army of anacondas. With a muffled report and a puff of sulfurous smoke—leakage from the other dimension through which he displaced himself—he teleported out of the monster’s clutches, then attacked it with his saber. It was like hacking at tough rubber, but the demon’s limbs parted, splashing blobs of phosphorescent amber ichor about, filling the air with a vile, corrosive stench.
Meanwhile, his face a mask of rage, Piotr employed his prodigious strength to grab the creature’s arms, sometimes five or six at once, and tear them to pieces. Dracula, no match for the Russian in terms of raw muscular power but still many times stronger than any ordinary human, was doing essentially the same thing, while simultaneously changing shape to keep the demon from getting a solid grip on him. One moment he was the towering, white-faced man in the cloak, then a huge gray wolf with foam flying from its snapping jaws, then a black, clawing hybrid of human and bat, and then a column of pearly, swirling mist.
No matter how hard the mutants and their ally fought, more tentacles kept squirming through the opening, constantly threatening to overwhelm them. But at last Colossus ripped away a fresh knot of them, opening a breach in the curtain of flesh and revealing a fleeting glimpse of what lay on the other side. It was the opportunity Kurt had been awaiting, and h
e instantly attempted to teleport himself onto the Midnight Runner’s stubby wing, its contours all but obscured by the attacking monster’s twisting, heaving limbs.
Nightcrawler’s power worked virtually instantaneously. He never perceived the extradimensional space through which he traveled, nor did he have any sensation of motion. Rather, the world seemed to change around him. One second he was inside the cabin, and the next, atop the carpet of rippling black limbs that carpeted the wing. Huge gray clouds filled the night sky all around him, turning the universe into a cavernous vault. Flares of lightning flickered in their bellies.
At once the freezing wind tried to hurl him from his perch. Raindrops peppered him like hailstones. Crouching and thus depriving the slipstream of leverage, he gripped the unsteady surface beneath him with the adhesive power of his feet and his empty hand, simultaneously entwining the end of his tail with one of the monster’s limbs.
He no sooner anchored himself than tentacles reared up all around him, as if he were in the center of a circle of cobras. Grateful that for him, fighting in a crouch was as natural as doing so standing erect, he cut at the arms with his saber.
He hacked several of them in two, but others lashed him like whips, or looped around him with crushing strength. To escape their attentions, he teleported farther out on the wing, and at that moment, buffeted by the turbulence, the Runner bucked.
When Kurt arrived, the wing had dipped, becoming a ramp sloping down to an abyss. Since the wing was lower than he’d expected it to be, he failed to achieve a grip on it, and the slipstream and gravity conspired to send him flying into space.
Tucking, he turned the unexpected tumble into a controlled somersault, saw the edge of the wing streaking beneath him, snatched with his empty hand and feet, grabbed it, and, grunting with the strain, yanked himself back aboard. It was one of the greatest acrobatic feats he’d ever performed, and he thought it a pity that no one had seen it.
Tentacles menaced him once more. He suspected he could slash at the limbs all night without grievously hurting the demon. For all he knew, the thing might even be regrowing them. But presumably the creature had a central body containing vital organs, and that was what he needed to attack. Looking for it, he pivoted toward the long, sleek form of the Midnight Runner's fuselage, then faltered in surprise.
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