Author's note: Thank you all so much for your fantastic reviews. You're the ones who keep me going! I'm thrilled that you like the story so far.
Chapter Five: Stormclouds
Three days after the attack on the anti-mutant meeting, storm clouds began blotting out the summer sun. A cool breeze whipped the waves into creamy, white-crested rollers that broke upon the rocky shores of the island fortress. Thunder growled with bad temper, and on occasion spears of white-hot lightning flashed down from the bruised underbellies of the thunderheads that loomed over the horizon.
The oppressive heat of the summer day began to lift, and the creatures of the island were stirred out of their torpor. Their calls echoed round the stone grottos while the shadows whispered loudly at the very peaks of the massive caverns.
Magneto stood behind the jagged crown of rocks that studded the shore, back away where the waves could not get at him. He enjoyed the current of fresh, cool air that wiped away the stagnancy of the caves, which despite the air-purifying units never were entirely free of staleness. This fresh air helped him think.
Charles was indeed keeping his eyes and ears open and alert, of this Eric was certain. The residents of New York City were on edge as well, not knowing what to make of the massacre at the anti-mutant meeting. Never before had any trouble befallen such gatherings, and no survivors were left to tell the tale. Hence, the culprits could have been anyone. Some blamed mutants, others blamed activists, and still others blamed terrorists. But Charles would know as soon as he heard about it, especially the injuries inflicted.
News, however, was tight concerning the massacre; very little information had been released, lest the crime be blamed solely on the mutant population and thus place them in unneeded danger. It was obvious to Eric that there were at least a couple of higher-ups who were covert mutants. Usually in cases such as this mutants were the first to be blamed, but things here were kept carefully neutral. It was exactly as Eric had been hoping, but it wouldn't have made much difference anyway.
All that mattered was that it got Charles' attention, and Eric had no doubt that he had succeeded.
Presently a light rain began to fall as the clouds unfurled themselves over the entire sky, raising a salty smell from the rocks, which had been crusted with spume baked beneath an angry sun. Eric looked down as the raindrops hit the sand at his feet and instantly disappeared, taken eagerly by the thirsty ground. He smiled faintly and turned to go inside, casting one last look at the restless sea behind him.
* * *
Toad was in the main cavern when the lightning struck its peak.
The sight was sudden and spectacular: there was a sharp crack, bits of rock tumbled down from high above to splash violently into the water below. The entire top of the cavern was lit up in an eerie, silver-blue glow, and for a second time seemed to stand still. Toad could see every crevice illuminated for the first time in millions of years, and as the light fell and the doves flapped away in fear, and a thick smell filled the room- metallic, sharp, and almost greasy; the smell of ozone- he smiled slowly at what he saw.
Curtains of moss hung down from the utmost peaks, black in the odd light of the thunderbolt, resembling the long and tattered hair of the witches spoken of in the stories he had often overheard in the orphanage. Small crabs swarmed upon it, feeding and completely sustained in the moist and inky darkness. The small ledges and spaces in the rock were white with bird guano, an odd contrast to the deep gray rock.
The light died then and the thunderclap shook the very island to its core, but the stones held their resolve and Toad, naturally wary of lightning, felt safe within its lush embrace. His smile stayed, and as he watched the doves flitting about, back to their homes again, he felt a surge of sadness that Jacob could not be there to witness such a sight.
This thought faded as quickly as it had come, but it left Toad more awestruck then had the lightning. He had done it. It was brief, fleeting, vague… but he had done it. He had felt something for the first time since Jacob died.
Toad went to the water's edge, where in the gloom he could just make out his reflection- his temple slightly bruised and cut where the implant had been placed, eyes dark, jaw set. He tried to smile at the hateful sight, disgusted that his face had been witness to so much needless death, but his breath caught in his throat and made him grimace. Taking a deep breath, he tried again, and this time the face in the water smiled back at him, and the angry eyes softened and the callus thinned.
Perhaps there was hope after all.