The sorcerer drew his sword and swung it over his head. Maybe it was his way of paying homage to his deities, or simply of attracting their attention. “Great ones!” he cried. “As I vowed, your hour is at hand. This is the woman who, branded with your shadows, will help me to free you from this dungeon.”
Across the landscape of flesh, various organs and protuberances pivoted or oozed in Rogue’s direction. Few of them were recognizable as eyes or ears, but they were probably sensory organs of one sort or another.
Now that the Dark Ones were peering at her, she felt their terrible strength, the overwhelming aura Belasco had spoken of, in full measure. In fact, a sudden stab of terror pierced the numbing fog in her head. Crying out, she recoiled.
Belasco laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “You’re about to be blessed as no mortal has ever been blessed before. I’d change places with you in an instant if only I could.”
For a moment, her panic abated. Then a hundred arms extended, some tentacular, some forked, some bearing misshapen hands, lamprey mouths, or stranger appendages, all reaching for her, and the fear surged back. Abruptly she didn’t care what the master said. She knew in the depths of her being that what was about to happen to her was wrong, vile, a peril that threatened her very soul, and nothing mattered but getting away.
Spinning, she leapt into the air and flew toward the mouth of the magical tunnel. Masses of flesh enveloped her like huge hands clapping together. She struggled madly, but couldn’t break free. The Elder Gods poured their alien minds into her, a tide that dissolved Rogue and Helen alike like a wave of acid. She heard Belasco laugh, and then she was gone.
Magic thrilling up her spine, singing along her nerves, Amanda silently invoked the Muses Under the Mountain: Vala, Who Dreams, Dor, Who Sees, and Ogri, Who Speaks. Tendrils of light sizzled from the Gypsy’s fingertips, merging to form a silver oval floating in the air in front of her.
Amanda stared into the mirror, commanding it to show her Belasco. For a moment, shadows swam in its depth, and then it exploded. The tinkling crash sounded exactly like real glass shattering, but the shards melted into nothingness before they reached the floor. The backlash from the unsuccessful conjuration hit her like a punch to the solar plexus. She grunted with the shock, and her knees went rubbery. Kurt sprang to her side and gripped her arm to support her.
The two of them, their comrades, and many of the federal operatives were still at the hospital. Either the facility was underutilized or it had moved out a number of its non-critical patients in expectation of the flood, but in any case, Major Jones had managed to commandeer an empty floor. The X-Men and Dracula were currently lounging about in a relatively small, open ward equipped with blue plastic curtains which could be drawn at need to enclose its dozen beds. The room smelled faintly of ammonia.
Most of her companions did their best to hide their disappointment at Amanda's latest failed divination, but she could read it in their faces even so. Only Jean, psi scanning for Belasco or Rogue herself, her forehead furrowed in concentration, failed to react. It was possible that she hadn’t even noticed.
At that moment, Amanda couldn’t stand to have her friends looking at her in all her uselessness. “I need some fresh air,” she mumbled. “Then I’ll come back and try again.” She pulled free of Kurt’s grasp and fled through the door into the hallway beyond, a stark institutional corridor with fluorescent lighting and walls painted a pale, unpleasant green.
The door opened once more. As she turned, she expected to see Dracula, but instead it was Kurt. Perhaps the vampire felt that he’d already made his case as effectively as he could, and believed it pointless to remonstrate with her any further.
“Don’t be discouraged,” said Kurt. “Everything will work out.”
She knew he was trying to help, but the remark seemed so blithely out of sync with reality that it annoyed her even so. “How?” she snapped.
“You or Jean will find Belasco. Or if you don’t, and he brings the Dark Ones through, then all of us—the X-Men, Excalibur, the Avengers, Spider-Man, and everybody else with peculiar talents and a pair of tights—will team up and chase them back to where they came from.”
Amanda shook her head. “You don’t understand. Jean and I have been scanning and scrying all day. There’s no reason for it to suddenly start working now. What’s more, there are dozens of Dark Ones, maybe hundreds, maybe thousands, and they’re gods, with all that implies. If they ever make it back to Earth, they’ll slaughter all us so-called super heroes as easily as you could stamp on a swarm of ants.”
“You assume so, but you’ve never actually seen them. Perhaps legend makes them out to be more formidable than they truly are.”
“How I wish I could believe that. But these are primordial entities, beings from the dawn of time, and every mystic knows that such creatures are more powerful than any that arose later. It took Agamotto the All-Seeing himself to cage them, and even he needed trickery and luck. The only way to
deal with them now is to keep the cage locked.” She took a deep breath. “Which is why I’d better let Dracula teach me the Darkhold magic, and pray that it’s not too late already.” Kurt glared at her. “No. I won’t permit it.”
“It’s not your decision.”
“Do you truly believe Dracula’s assurance that accepting his gift would only change you a little? Because I don’t. Remember how often meddling with dark sorcery has nearly destroyed your mother.”
“I know it will transform me thoroughly and horribly,” Amanda replied somberly. “You could say it’s going to kill my soul. But with the whole world at risk, I have to be willing to pay the price.”
“Your life belongs to you,” Kurt said, taking her hands, “and you have the right to risk it as you and I have done countless times before. But your soul belongs to God, and He forbids you to throw it away, no matter what the reason.” She smiled sadly and squeezed his thick, white-gloved fingers. “I know that’s what your faith teaches, darling, just as I know that on one level, it’s entirely true. But I’m a sorceress, even if only a puny one whose best trick is simply popping around from place to place. My view of the universe is darker and more complicated than yours. I need you to help me be brave now, and afterward—assuming we’re lucky enough to achieve an afterward—to make sure that the Amanda who will take my place doesn’t hurt anyone.”
Kurt’s features twisted in anguish. “I won’t—
The door opened, and Piotr stepped into the hall, his huge shoulders and high, gleaming head a tight fit.
Kurt rounded on him as if the Russian were the cause of all their troubles. “This is a private conversation,” the smaller man gritted.
Colossus nodded. “And I think I know what it is a conversation about. The offer that Dracula made to Amanda.” “I’m ordering you,” said Kurt, “go back inside.”
“You may be the leader of Excalibur,” replied Piotr, “but that doesn’t mean you can stop the rest of us from speaking our minds. Amanda, you know how badly I want to find Belasco. I’ve never wanted anything more. I have to find him, for Illyana’s sake.”
The sorceress nodded.
“And now we know we have to track him down before the night is out, to save the world. Still...” Piotr faltered, then scowling, evidently at his own reluctance, forged ahead. “Still, I’ve decided I agree with Kurt. I don’t want you to use the Darkhold magic.”
Kurt gaped up at their giant comrade. Amanda suspected she looked just as astonished. It was the last thing that she’d expected Piotr to say.
“You’re my friend,” Colossus said. “I can’t let you poison your spirit. What is the whole human race anyway, except for a collection of spirits? If it’s precious enough for us to fight for, then each of its parts must be precious as well. As Kurt said aboard the Runner, we must have faith in ourselves. We must believe we’ll find another answer.”
Amanda felt a knot compounded of guilt, fear, and desperation loose
n in her chest. She couldn’t quite say how Piotr had managed to convince her when her own lover couldn’t, but his words had tipped a balance inside her. “Okay,” she sighed, “you two win. No black magic. I just pray that we don’t al! live to regret it.”
Colossus gave Kurt a wry smile. “Do you still wish I’d minded my own business, tovarischT’
Nightcrawler reached up and clapped him on the shoulder. “No, mein freund, I do not.”
Logan stuck his head out into the hallway. “Break time’s over,” he growled. “I’m callin’ a council of war.”
The three members of Excalibur quickly followed him back into the ward. Wolverine strode over to Jean, still sitting more or less entranced on a stool in the nurse’s station, put his hand on her shoulder, and gave her a gentle shake. ‘ ‘Snap out of it, babe,” he said. “We need you, too.”
Phoenix blinked and ran her fingers through her tousled auburn hair. “All right. I was about ready to stop for a minute anyway.”
“You can stop for longer than that,” Logan said. “Amanda’s hoodoo and your psi scanning ain’t gettin’ us anywhere. Maybe it would if we still had a mini-Cerebro to help you zero in on Rogue, but we don’t. Our only chance is a fresh approach.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” said Scott. As was often the case, he was sitting beside Jean. “But do you have another plan, other than just hunting at random? Because that’s not likely to work in the short time w'e’ve got left.”
“Yup,” Logan said. “We got to narrow down the search area, and I’m hopin’ we can. Jeannie, you did get inside Carla’s mind, right?”
“Yes,” Phoenix said, “but as I explained, Belasco appeared there a second after I did, and hid her thoughts and memories away from me.”
“At least,” Logan persisted, “you had that first second. And even afterward, you really were still linked to her mind, weren’t you? Belasco only created the illusion that you weren’t. Otherwise you would’ve just been back inside your own skull again.” -
“Yes,” said Jean, frowning thoughtfully, obviously trying to divine where her friend was headed with this, “but how does that help us?”
“I’m guessin’,” Logan replied, “that during the time when your minds were hooked together, something must have leaked across to you, even if it’s buried in your unconscious.” He pulled the map of Natchez and the surrounding area from his belt and spread it on top of the Formica counter in front of her.
Everyone else drew closer to see what he meant to do with it. Wolverine looked at Storm and said, “No, ’Roro. 1 don’t want you to watch this—yet.”
“As you wish,” the windrider said, obediently retreating and turning her back.
“Okay,” said Logan, orienting on Phoenix once more, “you look at the map and point to Belasco’s hideout.”
Jean peered at him uncertainly. “You said it yourself. If I acquired any impressions at all from the impostor, they’re submerged so deeply—”
“Listen to your intuition,” Logan said. “Just trust your gut and give us your best guess.”
“You can do it,” Kitty said.
“All right.” Phoenix stared intently at the map for a time, then hesitantly pointed at the northeast quadrant. “Somewhere in here. Maybe.”
“Good,” Logan said. “Okay, ’Roro, now you’re up.”
The willowy black woman turned, “I think I can guess what you have in mind for me. When I was trying to quell the storm, I perceived that it was in some way unnatural, but I didn’t know that Belasco’s sorcery was responsible. I do know it now, and you’re wondering if I can sense at what point the weather-changing influence is rising into the sky.” The Canadian nodded. “Right on the money. Can you?” “I don’t know,” Ororo replied, “If the magic was anything resembling a tight beam, or my own power, I would surely have spotted it before. But I’ll try.”
She took a deep breath, threw back her head, and raised her arms. The air moaned and stirred, playing with the ends of Ororo’s hair. Outside, the rain drummed harder for a moment. Lightning flared, followed instantly by a clap of thunder loud enough to rattle the glass in the windows.
Ororo lowered her hands, walked to the counter, and indicated the central area of the northern half of the map. “Like Jean, I can’t be sure, but the source of the magic might be somewhere in here. Assuming that it is, I may be able to pin it down a little further once I’m up in the open sky.”
Nodding, Wolverine picked up a pencil and drew a circle on the map. “You say Belasco’s somewhere in here.” He sketched a second ring, an arc of which cut through the first. “Jeannie, you say he’s around here.”
“And the region where the two circles overlap,” said Scott, “is where we’re going to look.”
“Yep,” said Logan, “except that we’re not done whittling it down yet.” To Amanda’s surprise, he turned to her. “Your turn, darlin’.”
Feeling useless once more, Amanda grimaced. “You’ve already seen that I can’t locate Belasco. His defenses are too strong.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Wolverine. “The creep out-muscled you. No shame in that, considering how many centuries of practice he’s got on you. The thing is, he hasn’t taken away your savvy about how magic works, so let’s use that. Whal kind of a place would he choose for his hideout?”
“Somewhere at least a little isolated,” Amanda said, pondering, “where there wouldn’t be a lot of noise to disturb his concentration. Beyond that... ley lines!”
“Those currents of energy that supposedly run through the Earth,” said Scott.
“There’s no ‘supposedly’ about it,” Amanda replied. “Of course, Belasco’s magic primarily comes from the Dark Ones. But every sorcerer, whatever other resources he commands, occasionally draws some power from the natural environment to power his spells. And we tend to establish our sanctuaries on or at least near ley lines to make it easier.”
“Can you point out the lines in the search area?” Cyclops asked.
“Absolutely,” Amanda said, pleased to be asked at last to perform a feat that lay well within her capabilities. “It would help if I had a pendulum.”
“Here,” said Dracula, producing the gold and onyx pendant from within his funereal clothing. “You might as well use it for something.”
•She took it from his pallid hand, the power slumbering inside it tingling up her fingers. Then she drew and exhaled a long, slow breath, centering herself, poised the pendant over the map, and silently bade it reveal what she wanted to know.
Her magic guided her hand an inch farther down the map. The glittering piece of onyx abruptly swept back and forth on its chain, slashing from southwest to northeast and back again.
“You got it!” Kitty said,
“Wait,” Amanda replied. “We aren’t done yet.” The pendant ceased its vigorous, purposeful swinging, and her magic guided her hand almost to the top of the map. The black gem swept back and forth once more, this time defining a line that ran due east and west. When the motion abated, she sensed that the divination had concluded.
“Two lines,” said Scott.
“Yes,” Amanda said. She handed the pendant back to Dracula before the power inside it, singing to the magic in her own soul, could further tempt her to hang on to it. Judging from his contemptuous smile, he understood exactly what she was feeling. “If they intersected inside the search area, I’d say, look for Belasco at that spot. As it is, all I can tell you is that he may be somewhere along one or the other.”
“That’s better than we had before,” said Logan, drawing the ley lines on the map. He turned to Scott. “That was my last bright idea.”
“Then it’s time to start the actual search,” Cyclops replied.
“What about Major Jones and her people?” asked Kurt.
“Jones seems all right,” said Scott, “but she got skeptical when we started talking about the supernatural, and she never actually promised she wouldn’t detain us. She’s almost certainly been
in touch with her superiors by now, and who knows what orders they’ve given her?”
“Her superior’s Sean Morgan,” Wolverine said, “and trust me, if he wanted us detained, we’d know about it by now.”
“Fair enough,” Scott said with a nod, “but even if SAFE is willing to cooperate with us, they’d only slow us down on the trail, and I doubt that they’d be of much use against Belasco and his vampires when we do find them. So let’s sneak out of here and leave them behind.”
Logan decided he hated the pounding rain. Not because it battered and chilled him, even though it did. It had washed the city clean. As he prowled down the deserted sidewalk, past a string of antique shops, restaurants, and boutiques, he slipped into one recessed area after another, looking for a patch of pavement or a door handle that was still dry, always to no avail. Even his hypersensitive nose had yet to find a trace of scent.
Periodically he heard the others report over his GCS Unit. Generally, it was to indicate that thus far, they’d come up empty too. Occasionally, however, one of his friends said something so vague and tentative that it was almost more frustrating than when they offered nothing at all. Ororo was fairly sure that the epicenter of the weather disruption was east of the river. Looking at a seedy bar, Jean had experienced a powerful sense of deja vu, and suspected that Carla might frequently or recently have passed by the same location.
Logan could scarcely believe how quickly the minutes were ticking away, and how slowly the search was progressing— if, indeed, the seekers were truly making progress at all. He’d thought he had some good ideas back in the hospital, but maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe Jeannie. Ororo, and Amanda hadn’t had the ability to get the team pointed in the right direction after all. It wasn’t like he actually understood how their abilities worked. Maybe the X-Men were miles away from where they needed to be. Maybe the best approach would have been simply to let Phoenix and Amanda go on scanning like they were before.
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