CHAPTER FOUR -- "THE DRAGON UNLEASHED"
"Well, I have to admit I'm pretty impressed."
Eric stood proudly atop the small outcropping of grey rock, and smirked. "Only 'pretty' impressed?" he demanded in response to Diana's reluctant praise. "I don't see *you* doing any better, my friend."
Shaking his head, Cyclops stepped between the two. "All right, that's enough. Congratulations, Eric. You did it." Looking out across the plateau, he frowned at the darkness-shrouded silhouette of the castle. "So, that's where we're going to find this Force of Evil, is it?" Even as far away as they still were from their destination, it was clear that the building was well-protected; countless reptilian creatures stood on guard, protecting the castle from all angles and against all possible forms of attack. It seemed a fair deduction, even from this considerable distance, that breaching the castle security was not going to be an easy task.
"Yep," said Presto. "That's the place."
Eric stretched lazily, then shielded his eyes from the suns. "Of *course* that's the place! Now I've done *my* part leading you guys here, it's up to the rest of you to figure out how to get *inside* without getting killed. I'm not going to help you with that one, because, knowing the way these things go, it's only going to end up with me up to my neck in rampaging Lizard Men. No thank you."
Wolverine growled. "Don't give me ideas, Bub..."
"Ignore him, sugar," Rogue said to Eric, elbowing Logan in the ribs. "Y'all don't need ta worry about gettin' inside. Cyclops an' me'll keep them lizard fellas busy while you guys try an' bust in. Ain't that right, Cyke?"
Scott nodded, noting with brief interest the other mutant's reflexive defensiveness towards the loud-mouthed boy. "I'm sure we'll think of *something*," he said, tapping his visor with long-accustomed affection. "But it might make sense to try and get closer before we start thinking up random attack plans." With a good-humoured frown at Wolverine, he added quickly, "*including* anything which involves throwing the Cavalier to the Lizard Men."
He paused for a moment, ignoring the cruel smile that touched Wolverine's lips, and moving to survey the landscape that lay between them and the castle. The small plateau upon which they stood eased into a gentle downward slope, which halted abruptly nearly a mile away, where the ground collapsed to form a dangerous-looking cliff, at the bottom of which lurked the aforementioned armies of patiently-waiting Lizard Men, the likes of which extended the entire distance between the base of the cliff and the mysteriously dark castle--a distance that Cyclops judged to be a further half-mile, and this fact suggested, in no uncertain terms, that the small group, even with the X-Men's mutant powers to help them, were considerably out-gunned.
"So, how exactly do you suggest we get into the castle?" asked Presto as they descended the gentle slope of the plateau, his voice made high-pitched by what Cyclops was beginning to recognise as characteristic anxiety.
Diana and Wolverine exchanged slightly dangerous grins. "Do ya have t'ask?" they said in eerily perfect unison-and Cyclops fought back laughter at the Acrobat's rather effective parody of Logan's cruel tone. "We get in by throwing the Cavalier to the Lizard Men." As he shook his head in light-hearted reprimand at their mimicry of his earlier words, Cyclops found himself wondering if the comment would have been more humorous had they *both* been joking.
"Yeah, yeah, let's all pick on the Cavalier," muttered Eric, scowling at them with undisguised contempt. "Need I remind you boneheads that we wouldn't even *be* here if it wasn't for me? You should all be *grateful*."
Wolverine roared and extended his claws. "You just never learn, do ya, Bub?" he snarled, lunging towards the Cavalier, who, in turn, squealed and stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet and consequently collapsing into an untidy heap, entirely at the mercy of the rampaging mutant. "Time ta say your prayers, Mr. Bad Attitude."
"C'mon, Logan, leave the kid alone," said Rogue, stepping quickly between them, an act that, Cyclops noted, she had performed numerous time since the two groups had split; he could not entirely decide whether her protectiveness towards the obnoxious underdog was a good or bad thing. Certainly, it kept Wolverine at bay... for the time being. "It ain't his fault he don't know when to shut up. And y'can't deny that he ain't afraid to speak his mind. That's a good thing, right?"
Wolverine shoved her roughly out of the way, but, to Scott's relief, did not proceed to attack the whimpering Cavalier. "Ya got lucky this time, Big Mouth," he snarled, retracting his claws with obvious reluctance. "But you ain't always gonna have some big, strong mutant around to protect you. Just wait 'till I get you alone..." Still growling, he turned to glare furiously at Rogue. "As fer *you*... let's jus' say that if ya know what's good for you, you'll keep out of it next time."
"Sure, Logan. Whatever ya say," she said, shaking her head with a smirk. Cyclops sighed softly, wondering for the briefest of moments whether he was the only member of the group who could still remember the aim of their mission.
"Eric," whispered Presto, as he moved to help his friend to his feet. "You might want to try and keep your thoughts to yourself from now on. I don't really want to have to be the one collecting up all the little pieces once he's finished tearing you limb from limb." And, upon making certain that the humiliated Cavalier was all right, he moved to stand by Wolverine's side, an action that struck Scott as markedly unsettling. The boy smiled around at his comrades, responding to their puzzled frowns with little more than a careless shrug.
They began walking once again, Cyclops consciously bringing up the rear as he watched with studious curiosity the interactions that were taking place between his companions and the Young Ones. It seemed that, in spite of the dangerous hostility that had developed between Wolverine and Eric, the wild mutant had also forged a deep affinity with the quiet boy, Presto; the timid, loyal way in which the young Magician clung to Logan's side was enough to suggest to Scott that the two were enjoying some sort of kinship-presumably a paternal response on the part of the latter to the former's obvious deep-set loneliness. It was this relationship in particular that worried Cyclops, even more than the mutant's obvious abhorrence towards the rude Cavalier. So too, it seemed, Presto's growing closeness with Wolverine was an equal cause of concern to Diana, who, though she held back, keeping reluctantly by Scott's side, did not once tear her eyes from her friend.
"Worried about him?" he asked.
She blinked, consciously tearing her gaze from her quiet companion. "No!" she cried sharply, then sighed. "Yes. I'm sorry. It's nothing personal, and don't take it as an insult... but yes. You see, he's so easily intimidated, and such an easy victim... he's always the one that bullies try to force into the corner. I'm not saying your friend is a bully, but..."
"But, considering the way he treats your other friend, he doesn't exactly give a promising impression," Cyclops finished for her. "It's all right. I know Wolverine's not the most endearing mutant in the world, but trust me, he wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. I know he seems pretty aggressive, even cruel... but he's not *totally* heartless."
She frowned, a little uncertain. "You sure?"
"Of course," he said, flashing a reassuring smile. "And besides, as Team Leader, I won't let him lay a hand on your friend." He gripped her shoulder, watching with a gentle smile as her rigid posture relaxed slightly.
She nodded, visibly more at ease, then focused stoically on the silhouetted castle that lay ahead. Scott followed her gaze, sighing to himself as he realised that they were beginning to draw close to the top of the cliff, still without a plan of action. In an attempt to keep his anxiety to himself, he forced his attention to break away from their ever-looming destination, turning to stare at the beautiful scenery that surrounded them on all sides: the softly-rustling green-yellow grasses, the cloudless mid-morning sky-the same sky that had been heavy with clouds less than two hours earlier--the distant snow-capped mountain peaks that lined the horizon. It was all so breathtaking, yet Scott found himself entirely unable to appreciate the natural beauty, so deeply concerned was he about the task at hand.
As he walked, allowing his mind to wander, he found himself wondering how such a simple emergency rescue mission could become so incomprehensibly complicated. He had just been following the Professor's instructions; how could things be twisted so horrifically into such an indescribable mess? Perhaps Logan was right, and they should have simply refused to listen to DungeonMaster's tales of pain and suffering; perhaps he should have simply acknowledged the Realm's terrible plight and apologised but claimed that there really was nothing they could do. Perhaps--and the more he mulled the thought over in his mind, the more it seemed utterly simplistic and totally perfect--he should have allowed Wolverine to take the entire situation into his own primitive hands; certainly *that* way, the current chaotic condition would have been completely avoided.
Groaning softly to himself, he shook his head; deep inside, he knew that, as tempting as the idea was, allowing Wolverine's animalistic sense of hot-headed rebelliousness to run rampant was *not* the way to solve his chaotic conundrum. The choice had been made, and whether he liked it or not, Scott had committed himself and his team-mates to the protection of the Realm and its inhabitants; he could no more withdraw from his pledge than he could tear himself away from his loyalty to the Professor or his love for Jean Grey. The fact was, irregardless of whether the decision was the right one, he had sworn to defeat the Force of Evil, and, in spite of the dream-like unreality of the entire bizarre situation, he would make certain that he did just that... or die in the process.
"Hey, Cyke! Y'all wanna come back from Daydream Land long enough ta help the rest of us figure out how ta get into that castle, or are y'just gonna keep walking till you fall right off that blasted cliff?"
Startled out of his reverie, Cyclops snapped sharply back to reality-or what now passed for 'reality'; focusing reluctantly on Rogue's emerald eyes, he cursed himself for allowing his mind to wander so far, and struggled to return his attention to the obstacle that lay ahead--and was suddenly a little too close for comfort. "Yes, that would be a good idea," he said thoughtfully. "And I'm open to suggestions from you and your friends--" nodding at Diana and her companions "--because you're the ones who have fought against these lizard creatures before, and presumably know how to get through them." Then, looking with forceful intent at Logan and Eric, "And, if it's not too much to ask, please avoid making suggestions that are murderous, suicidal, or just stupid."
"Screw the plan," muttered Wolverine, plain and direct as ever. "I say we go in and lambaste the jerks. They can't be that tough." As he spoke, he looked to Presto for confirmation of his assumption; Scott felt another twinge of anxiety at the mutant's almost instinctive attempt to make the nervous Wizard feel useful. Masking his own concern, he looked to Eric and Diana; the former was scowling at Logan, and the latter was chewing her lower lip as she gazed at Presto.
The Magician gulped nervously. "They're *not* that though," he replied, staring uncomfortably at the ground. "But, uhh, they're numerous. No matter how easy it is to defeat one or two of them, there's always another five or six hundred just waiting to take their place. Fighting our way through is just *not* an answer, because there's no way we can take them all on."
"So how about we narrow down the numbers?" asked Logan, licking his lips at the anticipation of bloodshed. "Let 'em think they've got us in a corner, then lash out and take 'em all down?" He extended his claws, moving towards the edge of the cliff and smiling down at the waiting masses. "They won't stand a chance against us."
Cyclops shook his head, readying himself once again to reprimand the headstrong mutant, and struggling at the same time to think of a more peaceable suggestion, but before he had the chance to complete either task, Diana broke in, and the grin on her face took them all by surprise. "That's a great idea, Wolverine!" she cried, then, in response to Scott's confused frown and Eric's panicked yelp, she went on to patiently explain, "Look, I'm assuming you guys really are as strong and powerful as you say you are. You should have no problems taking on fifteen or twenty Lizard Men in one go, but probably not too many more than that, right? Well, that's great, but we don't stand a chance, even with your super-powers against, an army of two thousand... Stop me at any point if I'm wrong, here. So, how do you think they'd react if we tried to enter the castle, *allowed ourselves* to get caught--"
"Are you *NUTS*?" cried Eric, shaking her.
"No," she replied smoothly, pushing him away. "And if you just shut up and listen, you might understand. Now, once they've captured us, it's obvious they'll want to take us to Venger before doing anything. Firstly because we're his enemies, he hates us, and therefore he'd probably want to blast us himself, and secondly because there's no way they'd kill anyone without checking that it's what His Royal Highness wants. So, like I said, we allow ourselves to get caught, and then, once they've taken us into the castle, we jump them. And, even if they do the smart thing and take our weapons away, we'll still have you guys--" motioning towards the X-Men "--with your super-powers, to make short work of them. That way, not only will we reduce the number of Lizard Men--because they won't use an entire army just to bring a handful of captives to Venger--but we'll also have gotten into the castle without letting Venger know that we're after him." She paused for breath, grinning proudly. "Well. What do you think?"
Eric opened his mouth to comment, but Wolverine stared him down. "Shut it, Wise Guy," he said in response to the Cavalier's unspoken criticism. "Sounds fine ta me, Darlin'. Long as I get to tear those lizard things limb from limb, I ain't got no complaints." He turned to Scott. "We *will* be trashin' these jerks, won't we?"
Sighing softly, Cyclops nodded with long-accustomed resignation; he knew from painful experience that when Logan asked a question like that, there was no need to answer it, as the violent-minded mutant would do as he wished no matter how his leader responded. "Are you absolutely *sure* it'll work?" he asked. "I mean, can you guarantee that they won't have more of their kind waiting for us inside the castle?" He gazed from Diana to Presto, consciously avoiding looking at Eric.
"Of course they will!" the Cavalier yelled, ignoring the fact that Cyclops had not been addressing him. "He'll have *thousands* more inside the castle! She's crazy if she thinks we'll get to Venger that way!" He crossed his arms and shook his head with certainty. "And if you think for one second that I'm going to be a part of this suicide attempt, you've got another think coming!" With an obnoxious air of rich-boy superiority, he closed his eyes, still shaking his head.
Rogue reached out to take one of his gloved hands in both of hers, eyes glinting mischievously. "Aw, c'mon, sugar. A big, strong Cavalier like you ain't afraid of a handful of walkin' salamanders, are ya?"
He blinked, then coughed self-consciously, blushing a darker shade of crimson than his wind-blown cape. "Of course not!" he cried with exaggerated defensiveness. "I'm just being *sensible*, that's all. Those twerps *obviously* don't know the *meaning* of the word, and unlike *some* people, *I* don't like rushing headfirst into trouble!"
"That's right, Eric," said Presto, rolling his eyes. "You just like to cause it." Wolverine slapped the Magician on the back, smiling cruelly, and the two of them snickered loudly, as if sharing some private joke, as opposed to the public one that the others had heard. As he frowned with renewed anxiety, Cyclops caught a brief glimpse of protectiveness on Diana's face as she covertly clenched her fists, and, to some degree more worrying, the worry and anger that tainted Eric's haughty features; even the self-centred Cavalier was beginning to worry about his impressionable companion.
Cyclops muttered under his breath, then returned his attention to the ever-present fact that they were still no closer to entering the castle. "Well, I think trying Diana's idea is better than just attempting to fight our way through those hordes of Lizard Men, with still no real way of infiltrating the castle even if we *do* manage to defeat them all. And it's slightly less risky as well, so I think it's worth taking a shot at it. Anyone disagree? ...Not including Eric." Nobody responded, not even the Cavalier, although this could have been more of a response to Logan's dangerous snarl than to Scott's soft-spoken warning. After a few moments, Cyclops nodded. "In that case, then, I say we get this over with now." He took a deep, nervous breath, and motioned towards the edge of the cliff, pausing for a moment to gaze at all five of his comrades with the pride and respect deserving of those so willing to run headfirst into such an unpredictable situation. "Let's go."
*****
Storm trembled before the enormous beast, struggling to remain calm as she felt the painful vertigo of claustrophobia enveloping her once again. Though she had never been the kind of person to back down from a confrontation--unless it could be safely and peaceably avoided--the concept of battling such a large and obviously dangerous creature within such a small and unstable environment was one that she could not deny feeling decidedly uncomfortable with.
Glancing briefly at the others, she forced herself to keep the growing panic from reaching her features; thankfully, it seemed that the others were absorbed with staring at the majestic dragon, and so had not observed her momentary loss of composure. Hank raised his bow, stepping slowly away from the approaching dragon with tangible dedication in his deep eyes. Sheila too was backing away, gripping the hood of her cloak tightly; Gambit stood in front of her, twirling a playing card in his hand as he gazed with unflappable coolness at the howling dragon. Bobby was swinging his club, preparing to strike at a moment's notice; however, Storm could see that he was not simply going to attack without affirmation from Hank. Jubilee stood beside her new friend, staring up at the creature with undisguised awe; certainly, Storm felt able to empathise with the girl's feelings. Never before had she seen such a simultaneously beautiful and deadly beast, and the sight filled her with unbridled emotion, the likes of which was checked only by the sickening terror that overwhelmed her as she became once again aware of the close proximity of the cave walls to their uneasy position.
"So, what do we do now?" cried Jubilee, turning to face Hank. "Something tells me that thing isn't about to listen to reason..." She grinned smugly, then yelped in shock as the dragon released a furious roar.
Hank raised his bow, readying an arrow. "Well, if she won't listen through choice," he said calmly, "we're going to have to *make* her listen."
Before anyone could cry out, he fired, sending a barrage of glowing yellow energy bolts searing towards the creature. Watching in horror, Storm felt an icy dread clenching around her chest, and leaned weakly against the crumbling wall, seeing in her mind's eye the entire cave crashing down around her in an endless maelstrom of noise and blood and terror. She closed her eyes, willing the images to fade, and forced herself not to succumb to her weakness.
In response to Hank's attack, Tiamat howled and reared back, seemingly more shocked by the brightness of the Ranger's searing yellow arrow than affected by its force. Hank cursed softly and prepared another flaming bolt, but as he moved to release it, Storm placed a restraining hand on his arm, unable to control her anxiety any longer. "No," she said, consciously forcing her voice to remain steady. "It is too dangerous. We must refrain from disturbing the cave, or we shall be trapped in here." As he reluctantly lowered the weapon, nodding silently, she felt her heart rate beginning to slow a little from its previous worrying pace.
"All right," he said, stepping forwards with impressive courage to approach the snarling creature. With a deep nervous breath, he held his bow loosely at his side in an attempt to portray his peaceful intent, then spoke; in spite of the deadly gleam in the dragon's eyes, the boy's face and posture held no trace of fear. Considering her own undeniable state of terror, Storm could not help admiring his bravery. "Tiamat!" he shouted, voice clear and emotionless. "We need to talk to you."
The largest of the dragon's five heads--the red one--hissed slightly, slinking forwards to make contact with the Ranger's steely gaze. "I do not speak with mortals," she hissed, and Storm had to struggle to conceal her surprise at the perfection with which the primitive creature was able to speak. Even as her mind reeled at the paradox, the dragon's remaining four heads moved, snakelike, to wrap around themselves, each one staring intently at Hank.
"You have to," Hank said. "We need your help. Without you, the entire Realm may be doomed." He cried out sharply as Tiamat reared back momentarily, before lunging forwards and releasing a blast of fire from its largest head.
Leaping forwards, pushing her discomfort aside for the duration of the emergency, Storm raised her hands. "Forces of the elements, your Mistress commands you!" she cried, struggling to ignore Bobby's awestruck yelp and Sheila's worried frown, as well as the painful disorientation of feeling the walls closing around her. "Bring the Tropical Hurricane to quench the flames!" She floated gracefully up above Hank's head, watching proudly as a tempestuous flood of rain erupted from her fingertips, crushing the approaching fire and transforming it into little more than faint clouds of harmless steam.
"Oh, wow!" cried Bobby, jumping up and down with childish enthusiasm. "A sprinkler system!" He yelped excitedly and stuck his tongue out at the dragon, who in turn screamed defiantly at this indignation. "Come on, you stupid Dragon! What're you gonna do now, huh?"
Sheila gripped his arms, holding him down with a restraining look. "Bobby, you really should have learned by now that making her mad is not the best way of convincing her to listen." She sighed in response to his aggravated grumble. "Why don't you stay out of the way and let Hank try to negotiate? Remember, the fate of the entire Realm might be resting on Tiamat's shoulders, and the *last* thing we want to do is make her even angrier... The idea is to let *Venger* do that."
"Aw, c'mon, sis!" muttered the boy, breaking away from her maternal embrace.
Grinning with characteristic Cajun charm, Gambit stepped between them. "She's right, Petit. This be no place to make jokes. Gambit reckon you'd be a whole lot safer if you keep back and leave this t'Monsieur Hank."
"Fine!" cried Bobby, pouting and sitting down at his sister's feet in an act of purely immature petulance. "But me and my club could make short work of her!" He held it up with obvious pride in an attempt to demonstrate his point. "You'll see! When she doesn't listen to you, it'll be 'help us, Bobby. Protect us from the evil dragon'. And you know what I'm gonna say--?"
"Wake up, Doofus!" blurted Jubilee, smacking him on the back of the head, and smirking as he yelled out in protest. "If you use that club in here, it'll bring the whole cave down on top of us. Your stupid dragon might be dead, but so would we!"
Bobby glared at her, but said nothing in response. Storm smiled at his enthusiasm, allowing his refreshing youthfulness to chase away her claustrophobia, albeit for only a short time; had he been born a mutant in their own chaotic world of prejudice and war, Storm knew that the boy would have made a fine addition to the X-Men. Though the same was equally true for each of his companions, it was the youngest one that Storm found herself empathising with; the depth of pain and torment in his eyes was evidence enough that he had been witness to far more cruelty and violence than any child his age had the right to, and it slashed bitterly at the mutant's empathic heart to recall her own devastating childhood, and the agony that she had been forced to experience. Gazing at the hardened bravery in the young boy's innocent eyes, she realised the true depth of the horrors that he had endured in the time spent within this dangerous Realm, and she found herself thinking that perhaps a life of simple persecution was not so terrible.
Hank shook his head, then returned his attention to the immediate problem, namely the seething dragon that still towered above them, pondering its next attack. "Tiamat," he said again, patiently. "Please listen to me. We need your help in defeating Venger." He glanced briefly back at Storm and the other X-Men, as if to ensure that he understood what they had told him, before turning back to the dragon with renewed certainty. "Apparently, he's become supremely powerful, and it looks like we might not be able to handle him by ourselves. We need your help. Please... If he's not defeated, he'll destroy the entire Realm."
"Why is this my concern?" demanded the dragon in a low hiss, and one of its heads-- coloured an impenetrable black--wrapped itself seductively around the Ranger's throat. "This Realm is not my domain. I merely sojourn here to feast. It would be no great task for me to find another world from which to draw nourishment..."
Hank gulped nervously, sustaining his gaze upon the hypnotic eyes of the cackling red head, even as the black one tightened its reptilian grip on his throat. "I, uhm..." he paused, coughing, then shot a helpless look over his shoulder.
"Gambit's turn already?" the Cajun sighed, charging one of his trademark playing cards, and hurling it towards the dragon, sparing enough time to wink suggestively at Sheila before releasing the object from his hand. "The game be Five-Card-Stud. Feeling lucky, Chere?" With a faintly arrogant air of self-assurance, he watched as the card contacted with the largest of the creature's throats, exploding noisily as it did so. When the dragon made no response to the sound or the impact, he blinked in surprise, drawing another card from his coat. "You be a tough one, eh? No problem. Gambit love a woman that plays hard-to-get."
"Please, Gambit, this is not the time to play games," Storm murmured, fighting back another wave of claustrophobia. "I do not think you are going to be able to subdue this creature through the use of minor explosives."
Jubilee stepped forwards, raising her hands with a bright grin. "How about *major* explosives, then?" she asked, releasing a stream of multi-coloured 'fireworks', which she aimed neatly at Tiamat's broad chest. The dragon growled in response to the disturbance, and its black head released Hank, even though it seemed largely unaffected by the blasts themselves.
Jubilee continued her attack for several seconds, smirking proudly at Bobby as she did so, before eventually realising that they were actually doing no damage, and giving up. Storm sighed, preparing herself mentally for another attempt, in case it became absolutely necessary.
"Listen to me," Hank tried again, tugging at his collar as he once again grew accustomed to the sensation of being able to breath. "Even if the fate of this Realm means nothing to you, don't you think that after all that you have done to him, Venger will try to take you out as well?" He took a few anxious steps backwards and waited for Tiamat to acknowledge the implications of that suggestion. "Well, don't you want to make sure that never happens? If we're going to stop him, we all need to work together. Why else would DungeonMaster think it necessary to bring these guys from their weird alien universe, just so they could help us defeat him? We need all the help we can get, and so will you, eventually."
Storm stepped forwards, extending a peaceful hand. "He is correct," she said, allowing her own verbal gentleness to soothe the internal turbulence that threatened to tear her apart. "I admit that I and my companions know little of the ways in which this world and its inhabitants function, but I can understand the urgency of the situation, and I know that unless we all co-operate with each other, and work *together*, all will perish."
"Including you," Hank finished for her, still gazing steadily at the hissing reptile. "So, even if *we* don't matter to you, you have to think of yourself. You may not care about this Realm and what happens to it, you may not care what happens to us, and you may not care what happens to Venger. But do you care about your own fate? Because I believe--" he paused, and Storm smiled as she watched him silently grapple with the painful truth of the statement "--that if you refuse to help us, you will find yourself just as doomed as everybody else."
"Liar..." hissed the dragon.
Hank held up his bow, readying it for another attack but making no attempt to strike just yet. "Just think about what you're saying for a second," he said reasonably. "You're suggesting that we lowly *mortals* would be willing to risk our lives trying to find you, stand here before you, *knowing* that we stand no chance against your wrath, just so we could tell you a couple of half-hearted lies? Now, I know you're not the highest creature on the evolutionary scale, but surely you're smarter than that! We've come here solely to warn you of your impending destruction, and to make a *mutually beneficial* suggestion of a truce. Nothing more. If you *still* think that we're lying and there's no point in listening to us, then by all means, incinerate us. It doesn't matter, because without you to help us, we're as good as dead anyway."
Tiamat released a seething chuckle. "You are spirited," she mused thoughtfully. "I still do not believe you..." She paused, and Hank held her gaze with steely determination; Storm could not keep herself from once again acknowledging the boy's incredible negotiating talents. "However, I must admit that the prospect of bloodshed tempts me." These words, as contemplatively as they were spoken, reminded Storm of Wolverine, and she smiled slightly in spite of the seriousness of the situation as the dragon shook its heads. "Very well. I agree to assist you. Be aware, though, that I do this solely for the pleasure of destroying Venger... And I do not guarantee *your* safety once he is no more."
Hank bowed graciously, Bobby cheered and exchanged high-fives with Jubilee, Sheila released an anxious sigh, and gripped Gambit's hand; in response, the Cajun grinned and winked, leaning against the cave wall and stretching lazily. Storm glanced at each of them in turn, still battling her overpowering claustrophobia, then moved to study the dragon in detail; taking into consideration Jubilee and Gambit's failure to penetrate the creature's defences, even with their mutant powers, she was finding it difficult to empathise with the grateful relief shown by Hank, or the youthful delight expressed by Bobby and Jubilee. Sheila's nervousness, however, seemed rather more founded, and, in spite of having observed that the girl seemed liable to worry at even the simplest of non-existent problems, Storm felt a painful knot clenching around her already pounding heart.
*****
"Well, I have to admit I'm pretty impressed."
Eric stood proudly atop the small outcropping of grey rock, and smirked. "Only 'pretty' impressed?" he demanded in response to Diana's reluctant praise. "I don't see *you* doing any better, my friend."
Shaking his head, Cyclops stepped between the two. "All right, that's enough. Congratulations, Eric. You did it." Looking out across the plateau, he frowned at the darkness-shrouded silhouette of the castle. "So, that's where we're going to find this Force of Evil, is it?" Even as far away as they still were from their destination, it was clear that the building was well-protected; countless reptilian creatures stood on guard, protecting the castle from all angles and against all possible forms of attack. It seemed a fair deduction, even from this considerable distance, that breaching the castle security was not going to be an easy task.
"Yep," said Presto. "That's the place."
Eric stretched lazily, then shielded his eyes from the suns. "Of *course* that's the place! Now I've done *my* part leading you guys here, it's up to the rest of you to figure out how to get *inside* without getting killed. I'm not going to help you with that one, because, knowing the way these things go, it's only going to end up with me up to my neck in rampaging Lizard Men. No thank you."
Wolverine growled. "Don't give me ideas, Bub..."
"Ignore him, sugar," Rogue said to Eric, elbowing Logan in the ribs. "Y'all don't need ta worry about gettin' inside. Cyclops an' me'll keep them lizard fellas busy while you guys try an' bust in. Ain't that right, Cyke?"
Scott nodded, noting with brief interest the other mutant's reflexive defensiveness towards the loud-mouthed boy. "I'm sure we'll think of *something*," he said, tapping his visor with long-accustomed affection. "But it might make sense to try and get closer before we start thinking up random attack plans." With a good-humoured frown at Wolverine, he added quickly, "*including* anything which involves throwing the Cavalier to the Lizard Men."
He paused for a moment, ignoring the cruel smile that touched Wolverine's lips, and moving to survey the landscape that lay between them and the castle. The small plateau upon which they stood eased into a gentle downward slope, which halted abruptly nearly a mile away, where the ground collapsed to form a dangerous-looking cliff, at the bottom of which lurked the aforementioned armies of patiently-waiting Lizard Men, the likes of which extended the entire distance between the base of the cliff and the mysteriously dark castle--a distance that Cyclops judged to be a further half-mile, and this fact suggested, in no uncertain terms, that the small group, even with the X-Men's mutant powers to help them, were considerably out-gunned.
"So, how exactly do you suggest we get into the castle?" asked Presto as they descended the gentle slope of the plateau, his voice made high-pitched by what Cyclops was beginning to recognise as characteristic anxiety.
Diana and Wolverine exchanged slightly dangerous grins. "Do ya have t'ask?" they said in eerily perfect unison-and Cyclops fought back laughter at the Acrobat's rather effective parody of Logan's cruel tone. "We get in by throwing the Cavalier to the Lizard Men." As he shook his head in light-hearted reprimand at their mimicry of his earlier words, Cyclops found himself wondering if the comment would have been more humorous had they *both* been joking.
"Yeah, yeah, let's all pick on the Cavalier," muttered Eric, scowling at them with undisguised contempt. "Need I remind you boneheads that we wouldn't even *be* here if it wasn't for me? You should all be *grateful*."
Wolverine roared and extended his claws. "You just never learn, do ya, Bub?" he snarled, lunging towards the Cavalier, who, in turn, squealed and stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet and consequently collapsing into an untidy heap, entirely at the mercy of the rampaging mutant. "Time ta say your prayers, Mr. Bad Attitude."
"C'mon, Logan, leave the kid alone," said Rogue, stepping quickly between them, an act that, Cyclops noted, she had performed numerous time since the two groups had split; he could not entirely decide whether her protectiveness towards the obnoxious underdog was a good or bad thing. Certainly, it kept Wolverine at bay... for the time being. "It ain't his fault he don't know when to shut up. And y'can't deny that he ain't afraid to speak his mind. That's a good thing, right?"
Wolverine shoved her roughly out of the way, but, to Scott's relief, did not proceed to attack the whimpering Cavalier. "Ya got lucky this time, Big Mouth," he snarled, retracting his claws with obvious reluctance. "But you ain't always gonna have some big, strong mutant around to protect you. Just wait 'till I get you alone..." Still growling, he turned to glare furiously at Rogue. "As fer *you*... let's jus' say that if ya know what's good for you, you'll keep out of it next time."
"Sure, Logan. Whatever ya say," she said, shaking her head with a smirk. Cyclops sighed softly, wondering for the briefest of moments whether he was the only member of the group who could still remember the aim of their mission.
"Eric," whispered Presto, as he moved to help his friend to his feet. "You might want to try and keep your thoughts to yourself from now on. I don't really want to have to be the one collecting up all the little pieces once he's finished tearing you limb from limb." And, upon making certain that the humiliated Cavalier was all right, he moved to stand by Wolverine's side, an action that struck Scott as markedly unsettling. The boy smiled around at his comrades, responding to their puzzled frowns with little more than a careless shrug.
They began walking once again, Cyclops consciously bringing up the rear as he watched with studious curiosity the interactions that were taking place between his companions and the Young Ones. It seemed that, in spite of the dangerous hostility that had developed between Wolverine and Eric, the wild mutant had also forged a deep affinity with the quiet boy, Presto; the timid, loyal way in which the young Magician clung to Logan's side was enough to suggest to Scott that the two were enjoying some sort of kinship-presumably a paternal response on the part of the latter to the former's obvious deep-set loneliness. It was this relationship in particular that worried Cyclops, even more than the mutant's obvious abhorrence towards the rude Cavalier. So too, it seemed, Presto's growing closeness with Wolverine was an equal cause of concern to Diana, who, though she held back, keeping reluctantly by Scott's side, did not once tear her eyes from her friend.
"Worried about him?" he asked.
She blinked, consciously tearing her gaze from her quiet companion. "No!" she cried sharply, then sighed. "Yes. I'm sorry. It's nothing personal, and don't take it as an insult... but yes. You see, he's so easily intimidated, and such an easy victim... he's always the one that bullies try to force into the corner. I'm not saying your friend is a bully, but..."
"But, considering the way he treats your other friend, he doesn't exactly give a promising impression," Cyclops finished for her. "It's all right. I know Wolverine's not the most endearing mutant in the world, but trust me, he wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. I know he seems pretty aggressive, even cruel... but he's not *totally* heartless."
She frowned, a little uncertain. "You sure?"
"Of course," he said, flashing a reassuring smile. "And besides, as Team Leader, I won't let him lay a hand on your friend." He gripped her shoulder, watching with a gentle smile as her rigid posture relaxed slightly.
She nodded, visibly more at ease, then focused stoically on the silhouetted castle that lay ahead. Scott followed her gaze, sighing to himself as he realised that they were beginning to draw close to the top of the cliff, still without a plan of action. In an attempt to keep his anxiety to himself, he forced his attention to break away from their ever-looming destination, turning to stare at the beautiful scenery that surrounded them on all sides: the softly-rustling green-yellow grasses, the cloudless mid-morning sky-the same sky that had been heavy with clouds less than two hours earlier--the distant snow-capped mountain peaks that lined the horizon. It was all so breathtaking, yet Scott found himself entirely unable to appreciate the natural beauty, so deeply concerned was he about the task at hand.
As he walked, allowing his mind to wander, he found himself wondering how such a simple emergency rescue mission could become so incomprehensibly complicated. He had just been following the Professor's instructions; how could things be twisted so horrifically into such an indescribable mess? Perhaps Logan was right, and they should have simply refused to listen to DungeonMaster's tales of pain and suffering; perhaps he should have simply acknowledged the Realm's terrible plight and apologised but claimed that there really was nothing they could do. Perhaps--and the more he mulled the thought over in his mind, the more it seemed utterly simplistic and totally perfect--he should have allowed Wolverine to take the entire situation into his own primitive hands; certainly *that* way, the current chaotic condition would have been completely avoided.
Groaning softly to himself, he shook his head; deep inside, he knew that, as tempting as the idea was, allowing Wolverine's animalistic sense of hot-headed rebelliousness to run rampant was *not* the way to solve his chaotic conundrum. The choice had been made, and whether he liked it or not, Scott had committed himself and his team-mates to the protection of the Realm and its inhabitants; he could no more withdraw from his pledge than he could tear himself away from his loyalty to the Professor or his love for Jean Grey. The fact was, irregardless of whether the decision was the right one, he had sworn to defeat the Force of Evil, and, in spite of the dream-like unreality of the entire bizarre situation, he would make certain that he did just that... or die in the process.
"Hey, Cyke! Y'all wanna come back from Daydream Land long enough ta help the rest of us figure out how ta get into that castle, or are y'just gonna keep walking till you fall right off that blasted cliff?"
Startled out of his reverie, Cyclops snapped sharply back to reality-or what now passed for 'reality'; focusing reluctantly on Rogue's emerald eyes, he cursed himself for allowing his mind to wander so far, and struggled to return his attention to the obstacle that lay ahead--and was suddenly a little too close for comfort. "Yes, that would be a good idea," he said thoughtfully. "And I'm open to suggestions from you and your friends--" nodding at Diana and her companions "--because you're the ones who have fought against these lizard creatures before, and presumably know how to get through them." Then, looking with forceful intent at Logan and Eric, "And, if it's not too much to ask, please avoid making suggestions that are murderous, suicidal, or just stupid."
"Screw the plan," muttered Wolverine, plain and direct as ever. "I say we go in and lambaste the jerks. They can't be that tough." As he spoke, he looked to Presto for confirmation of his assumption; Scott felt another twinge of anxiety at the mutant's almost instinctive attempt to make the nervous Wizard feel useful. Masking his own concern, he looked to Eric and Diana; the former was scowling at Logan, and the latter was chewing her lower lip as she gazed at Presto.
The Magician gulped nervously. "They're *not* that though," he replied, staring uncomfortably at the ground. "But, uhh, they're numerous. No matter how easy it is to defeat one or two of them, there's always another five or six hundred just waiting to take their place. Fighting our way through is just *not* an answer, because there's no way we can take them all on."
"So how about we narrow down the numbers?" asked Logan, licking his lips at the anticipation of bloodshed. "Let 'em think they've got us in a corner, then lash out and take 'em all down?" He extended his claws, moving towards the edge of the cliff and smiling down at the waiting masses. "They won't stand a chance against us."
Cyclops shook his head, readying himself once again to reprimand the headstrong mutant, and struggling at the same time to think of a more peaceable suggestion, but before he had the chance to complete either task, Diana broke in, and the grin on her face took them all by surprise. "That's a great idea, Wolverine!" she cried, then, in response to Scott's confused frown and Eric's panicked yelp, she went on to patiently explain, "Look, I'm assuming you guys really are as strong and powerful as you say you are. You should have no problems taking on fifteen or twenty Lizard Men in one go, but probably not too many more than that, right? Well, that's great, but we don't stand a chance, even with your super-powers against, an army of two thousand... Stop me at any point if I'm wrong, here. So, how do you think they'd react if we tried to enter the castle, *allowed ourselves* to get caught--"
"Are you *NUTS*?" cried Eric, shaking her.
"No," she replied smoothly, pushing him away. "And if you just shut up and listen, you might understand. Now, once they've captured us, it's obvious they'll want to take us to Venger before doing anything. Firstly because we're his enemies, he hates us, and therefore he'd probably want to blast us himself, and secondly because there's no way they'd kill anyone without checking that it's what His Royal Highness wants. So, like I said, we allow ourselves to get caught, and then, once they've taken us into the castle, we jump them. And, even if they do the smart thing and take our weapons away, we'll still have you guys--" motioning towards the X-Men "--with your super-powers, to make short work of them. That way, not only will we reduce the number of Lizard Men--because they won't use an entire army just to bring a handful of captives to Venger--but we'll also have gotten into the castle without letting Venger know that we're after him." She paused for breath, grinning proudly. "Well. What do you think?"
Eric opened his mouth to comment, but Wolverine stared him down. "Shut it, Wise Guy," he said in response to the Cavalier's unspoken criticism. "Sounds fine ta me, Darlin'. Long as I get to tear those lizard things limb from limb, I ain't got no complaints." He turned to Scott. "We *will* be trashin' these jerks, won't we?"
Sighing softly, Cyclops nodded with long-accustomed resignation; he knew from painful experience that when Logan asked a question like that, there was no need to answer it, as the violent-minded mutant would do as he wished no matter how his leader responded. "Are you absolutely *sure* it'll work?" he asked. "I mean, can you guarantee that they won't have more of their kind waiting for us inside the castle?" He gazed from Diana to Presto, consciously avoiding looking at Eric.
"Of course they will!" the Cavalier yelled, ignoring the fact that Cyclops had not been addressing him. "He'll have *thousands* more inside the castle! She's crazy if she thinks we'll get to Venger that way!" He crossed his arms and shook his head with certainty. "And if you think for one second that I'm going to be a part of this suicide attempt, you've got another think coming!" With an obnoxious air of rich-boy superiority, he closed his eyes, still shaking his head.
Rogue reached out to take one of his gloved hands in both of hers, eyes glinting mischievously. "Aw, c'mon, sugar. A big, strong Cavalier like you ain't afraid of a handful of walkin' salamanders, are ya?"
He blinked, then coughed self-consciously, blushing a darker shade of crimson than his wind-blown cape. "Of course not!" he cried with exaggerated defensiveness. "I'm just being *sensible*, that's all. Those twerps *obviously* don't know the *meaning* of the word, and unlike *some* people, *I* don't like rushing headfirst into trouble!"
"That's right, Eric," said Presto, rolling his eyes. "You just like to cause it." Wolverine slapped the Magician on the back, smiling cruelly, and the two of them snickered loudly, as if sharing some private joke, as opposed to the public one that the others had heard. As he frowned with renewed anxiety, Cyclops caught a brief glimpse of protectiveness on Diana's face as she covertly clenched her fists, and, to some degree more worrying, the worry and anger that tainted Eric's haughty features; even the self-centred Cavalier was beginning to worry about his impressionable companion.
Cyclops muttered under his breath, then returned his attention to the ever-present fact that they were still no closer to entering the castle. "Well, I think trying Diana's idea is better than just attempting to fight our way through those hordes of Lizard Men, with still no real way of infiltrating the castle even if we *do* manage to defeat them all. And it's slightly less risky as well, so I think it's worth taking a shot at it. Anyone disagree? ...Not including Eric." Nobody responded, not even the Cavalier, although this could have been more of a response to Logan's dangerous snarl than to Scott's soft-spoken warning. After a few moments, Cyclops nodded. "In that case, then, I say we get this over with now." He took a deep, nervous breath, and motioned towards the edge of the cliff, pausing for a moment to gaze at all five of his comrades with the pride and respect deserving of those so willing to run headfirst into such an unpredictable situation. "Let's go."
*****
Storm trembled before the enormous beast, struggling to remain calm as she felt the painful vertigo of claustrophobia enveloping her once again. Though she had never been the kind of person to back down from a confrontation--unless it could be safely and peaceably avoided--the concept of battling such a large and obviously dangerous creature within such a small and unstable environment was one that she could not deny feeling decidedly uncomfortable with.
Glancing briefly at the others, she forced herself to keep the growing panic from reaching her features; thankfully, it seemed that the others were absorbed with staring at the majestic dragon, and so had not observed her momentary loss of composure. Hank raised his bow, stepping slowly away from the approaching dragon with tangible dedication in his deep eyes. Sheila too was backing away, gripping the hood of her cloak tightly; Gambit stood in front of her, twirling a playing card in his hand as he gazed with unflappable coolness at the howling dragon. Bobby was swinging his club, preparing to strike at a moment's notice; however, Storm could see that he was not simply going to attack without affirmation from Hank. Jubilee stood beside her new friend, staring up at the creature with undisguised awe; certainly, Storm felt able to empathise with the girl's feelings. Never before had she seen such a simultaneously beautiful and deadly beast, and the sight filled her with unbridled emotion, the likes of which was checked only by the sickening terror that overwhelmed her as she became once again aware of the close proximity of the cave walls to their uneasy position.
"So, what do we do now?" cried Jubilee, turning to face Hank. "Something tells me that thing isn't about to listen to reason..." She grinned smugly, then yelped in shock as the dragon released a furious roar.
Hank raised his bow, readying an arrow. "Well, if she won't listen through choice," he said calmly, "we're going to have to *make* her listen."
Before anyone could cry out, he fired, sending a barrage of glowing yellow energy bolts searing towards the creature. Watching in horror, Storm felt an icy dread clenching around her chest, and leaned weakly against the crumbling wall, seeing in her mind's eye the entire cave crashing down around her in an endless maelstrom of noise and blood and terror. She closed her eyes, willing the images to fade, and forced herself not to succumb to her weakness.
In response to Hank's attack, Tiamat howled and reared back, seemingly more shocked by the brightness of the Ranger's searing yellow arrow than affected by its force. Hank cursed softly and prepared another flaming bolt, but as he moved to release it, Storm placed a restraining hand on his arm, unable to control her anxiety any longer. "No," she said, consciously forcing her voice to remain steady. "It is too dangerous. We must refrain from disturbing the cave, or we shall be trapped in here." As he reluctantly lowered the weapon, nodding silently, she felt her heart rate beginning to slow a little from its previous worrying pace.
"All right," he said, stepping forwards with impressive courage to approach the snarling creature. With a deep nervous breath, he held his bow loosely at his side in an attempt to portray his peaceful intent, then spoke; in spite of the deadly gleam in the dragon's eyes, the boy's face and posture held no trace of fear. Considering her own undeniable state of terror, Storm could not help admiring his bravery. "Tiamat!" he shouted, voice clear and emotionless. "We need to talk to you."
The largest of the dragon's five heads--the red one--hissed slightly, slinking forwards to make contact with the Ranger's steely gaze. "I do not speak with mortals," she hissed, and Storm had to struggle to conceal her surprise at the perfection with which the primitive creature was able to speak. Even as her mind reeled at the paradox, the dragon's remaining four heads moved, snakelike, to wrap around themselves, each one staring intently at Hank.
"You have to," Hank said. "We need your help. Without you, the entire Realm may be doomed." He cried out sharply as Tiamat reared back momentarily, before lunging forwards and releasing a blast of fire from its largest head.
Leaping forwards, pushing her discomfort aside for the duration of the emergency, Storm raised her hands. "Forces of the elements, your Mistress commands you!" she cried, struggling to ignore Bobby's awestruck yelp and Sheila's worried frown, as well as the painful disorientation of feeling the walls closing around her. "Bring the Tropical Hurricane to quench the flames!" She floated gracefully up above Hank's head, watching proudly as a tempestuous flood of rain erupted from her fingertips, crushing the approaching fire and transforming it into little more than faint clouds of harmless steam.
"Oh, wow!" cried Bobby, jumping up and down with childish enthusiasm. "A sprinkler system!" He yelped excitedly and stuck his tongue out at the dragon, who in turn screamed defiantly at this indignation. "Come on, you stupid Dragon! What're you gonna do now, huh?"
Sheila gripped his arms, holding him down with a restraining look. "Bobby, you really should have learned by now that making her mad is not the best way of convincing her to listen." She sighed in response to his aggravated grumble. "Why don't you stay out of the way and let Hank try to negotiate? Remember, the fate of the entire Realm might be resting on Tiamat's shoulders, and the *last* thing we want to do is make her even angrier... The idea is to let *Venger* do that."
"Aw, c'mon, sis!" muttered the boy, breaking away from her maternal embrace.
Grinning with characteristic Cajun charm, Gambit stepped between them. "She's right, Petit. This be no place to make jokes. Gambit reckon you'd be a whole lot safer if you keep back and leave this t'Monsieur Hank."
"Fine!" cried Bobby, pouting and sitting down at his sister's feet in an act of purely immature petulance. "But me and my club could make short work of her!" He held it up with obvious pride in an attempt to demonstrate his point. "You'll see! When she doesn't listen to you, it'll be 'help us, Bobby. Protect us from the evil dragon'. And you know what I'm gonna say--?"
"Wake up, Doofus!" blurted Jubilee, smacking him on the back of the head, and smirking as he yelled out in protest. "If you use that club in here, it'll bring the whole cave down on top of us. Your stupid dragon might be dead, but so would we!"
Bobby glared at her, but said nothing in response. Storm smiled at his enthusiasm, allowing his refreshing youthfulness to chase away her claustrophobia, albeit for only a short time; had he been born a mutant in their own chaotic world of prejudice and war, Storm knew that the boy would have made a fine addition to the X-Men. Though the same was equally true for each of his companions, it was the youngest one that Storm found herself empathising with; the depth of pain and torment in his eyes was evidence enough that he had been witness to far more cruelty and violence than any child his age had the right to, and it slashed bitterly at the mutant's empathic heart to recall her own devastating childhood, and the agony that she had been forced to experience. Gazing at the hardened bravery in the young boy's innocent eyes, she realised the true depth of the horrors that he had endured in the time spent within this dangerous Realm, and she found herself thinking that perhaps a life of simple persecution was not so terrible.
Hank shook his head, then returned his attention to the immediate problem, namely the seething dragon that still towered above them, pondering its next attack. "Tiamat," he said again, patiently. "Please listen to me. We need your help in defeating Venger." He glanced briefly back at Storm and the other X-Men, as if to ensure that he understood what they had told him, before turning back to the dragon with renewed certainty. "Apparently, he's become supremely powerful, and it looks like we might not be able to handle him by ourselves. We need your help. Please... If he's not defeated, he'll destroy the entire Realm."
"Why is this my concern?" demanded the dragon in a low hiss, and one of its heads-- coloured an impenetrable black--wrapped itself seductively around the Ranger's throat. "This Realm is not my domain. I merely sojourn here to feast. It would be no great task for me to find another world from which to draw nourishment..."
Hank gulped nervously, sustaining his gaze upon the hypnotic eyes of the cackling red head, even as the black one tightened its reptilian grip on his throat. "I, uhm..." he paused, coughing, then shot a helpless look over his shoulder.
"Gambit's turn already?" the Cajun sighed, charging one of his trademark playing cards, and hurling it towards the dragon, sparing enough time to wink suggestively at Sheila before releasing the object from his hand. "The game be Five-Card-Stud. Feeling lucky, Chere?" With a faintly arrogant air of self-assurance, he watched as the card contacted with the largest of the creature's throats, exploding noisily as it did so. When the dragon made no response to the sound or the impact, he blinked in surprise, drawing another card from his coat. "You be a tough one, eh? No problem. Gambit love a woman that plays hard-to-get."
"Please, Gambit, this is not the time to play games," Storm murmured, fighting back another wave of claustrophobia. "I do not think you are going to be able to subdue this creature through the use of minor explosives."
Jubilee stepped forwards, raising her hands with a bright grin. "How about *major* explosives, then?" she asked, releasing a stream of multi-coloured 'fireworks', which she aimed neatly at Tiamat's broad chest. The dragon growled in response to the disturbance, and its black head released Hank, even though it seemed largely unaffected by the blasts themselves.
Jubilee continued her attack for several seconds, smirking proudly at Bobby as she did so, before eventually realising that they were actually doing no damage, and giving up. Storm sighed, preparing herself mentally for another attempt, in case it became absolutely necessary.
"Listen to me," Hank tried again, tugging at his collar as he once again grew accustomed to the sensation of being able to breath. "Even if the fate of this Realm means nothing to you, don't you think that after all that you have done to him, Venger will try to take you out as well?" He took a few anxious steps backwards and waited for Tiamat to acknowledge the implications of that suggestion. "Well, don't you want to make sure that never happens? If we're going to stop him, we all need to work together. Why else would DungeonMaster think it necessary to bring these guys from their weird alien universe, just so they could help us defeat him? We need all the help we can get, and so will you, eventually."
Storm stepped forwards, extending a peaceful hand. "He is correct," she said, allowing her own verbal gentleness to soothe the internal turbulence that threatened to tear her apart. "I admit that I and my companions know little of the ways in which this world and its inhabitants function, but I can understand the urgency of the situation, and I know that unless we all co-operate with each other, and work *together*, all will perish."
"Including you," Hank finished for her, still gazing steadily at the hissing reptile. "So, even if *we* don't matter to you, you have to think of yourself. You may not care about this Realm and what happens to it, you may not care what happens to us, and you may not care what happens to Venger. But do you care about your own fate? Because I believe--" he paused, and Storm smiled as she watched him silently grapple with the painful truth of the statement "--that if you refuse to help us, you will find yourself just as doomed as everybody else."
"Liar..." hissed the dragon.
Hank held up his bow, readying it for another attack but making no attempt to strike just yet. "Just think about what you're saying for a second," he said reasonably. "You're suggesting that we lowly *mortals* would be willing to risk our lives trying to find you, stand here before you, *knowing* that we stand no chance against your wrath, just so we could tell you a couple of half-hearted lies? Now, I know you're not the highest creature on the evolutionary scale, but surely you're smarter than that! We've come here solely to warn you of your impending destruction, and to make a *mutually beneficial* suggestion of a truce. Nothing more. If you *still* think that we're lying and there's no point in listening to us, then by all means, incinerate us. It doesn't matter, because without you to help us, we're as good as dead anyway."
Tiamat released a seething chuckle. "You are spirited," she mused thoughtfully. "I still do not believe you..." She paused, and Hank held her gaze with steely determination; Storm could not keep herself from once again acknowledging the boy's incredible negotiating talents. "However, I must admit that the prospect of bloodshed tempts me." These words, as contemplatively as they were spoken, reminded Storm of Wolverine, and she smiled slightly in spite of the seriousness of the situation as the dragon shook its heads. "Very well. I agree to assist you. Be aware, though, that I do this solely for the pleasure of destroying Venger... And I do not guarantee *your* safety once he is no more."
Hank bowed graciously, Bobby cheered and exchanged high-fives with Jubilee, Sheila released an anxious sigh, and gripped Gambit's hand; in response, the Cajun grinned and winked, leaning against the cave wall and stretching lazily. Storm glanced at each of them in turn, still battling her overpowering claustrophobia, then moved to study the dragon in detail; taking into consideration Jubilee and Gambit's failure to penetrate the creature's defences, even with their mutant powers, she was finding it difficult to empathise with the grateful relief shown by Hank, or the youthful delight expressed by Bobby and Jubilee. Sheila's nervousness, however, seemed rather more founded, and, in spite of having observed that the girl seemed liable to worry at even the simplest of non-existent problems, Storm felt a painful knot clenching around her already pounding heart.
*****