Paper Flowers

by oldprydefan

A tale of Soulswords, Diaries, love, friendships, and connections. Kitty Pryde and Peter (Piotr) Rasputin. Ch 18 up. Rachel and Illyana's reactions to everything that's happening, the identity of that person Kitty was hugging in the graveyard.

14. A Moth To The Flame

Disclaimer: X-Men and related characters belong to Marvel, not to me. Big surprise for everyone, I'm sure. Not making any money off of this.

Warning: Dark and disturbing things ahead, and it will only get worse. At least no one dies this chapter. Maybe next time. Don't worry about current continuity. Just put it out of your mind. There now. Don't you feel better? If you must know, we depart from the regular series at around X-Men #109. And, fair warning to everyone, this chapter, and probably the next two, will be pretty long.

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Paper Flowers

Chapter 14 – A Moth To The Flame

The sun was just setting as the little ferry chugged steadily along, making it's last run of the day.

Peter Rasputin stood at the bow, staring out at the gray, rolling waves, asking himself what on earth he was doing. He should be anywhere but here. He should be in Genosha, with Logan, looking for Kitty. He should be doing something to help her, find her.

Leaving the search to someone else was killing him, tearing his heart out in little, tiny pieces. He didn't even know if she was alive. For all he knew, she could have injected herself with the Legacy serum. Right now, she could be lying somewhere, cold, alone...dead.

He forcibly shoved the thought, and it's accompanying image, from his head with a shake that sent his dark hair fluttering in the light breeze. He couldn't allow himself to think that way. Thoughts such as that would only drive him insane. Besides, he didn't truly believe that's what she'd done. Not really.

Not once he'd learned of the Soulsword, of what it had been doing to her. If nothing else, that thing would not allow her to destroy herself. It needed her, just as it had needed Illyana. The sword might destroy her spiritually, emotionally, but it would not destroy her physically. Though it might take her soul, it would not take her life. Nor would it allow her to do that herself. And he doubted, very seriously, that anyone else would be able to do it for her.

The thought was both comforting and terrifying at the same time. There were things, he knew, in their world that were far worse than death.

As he watched the horizon, he caught the first glimpse of his destination and was immediately reminded of why he was here, instead of in Genosha, or anywhere else, looking for Kitty. She had asked him to do this, to come here, and the reason was standing on the dock, waiting impatiently for his arrival.

Rhane stood there, tall and slim, long red hair billowing out behind her, arms crossed over her chest, tapping one foot on the dock, the rapid staccato mirroring her own impatience with the slow plodding of the little ferry as it drifted closer. Muir Island provided the backdrop for what would have made a lovely portrait, with the crags and hills of the island and the sprawling research complex spread out in the background, a mixture of nature and technology, and the pretty, Scots girl in the foreground, tying it all together.

From here, the damage done by Mystique's bomb was hidden from view, leaving the illusion of perfection. But then, wasn't all perfection, in the end, an illusion?

He'd called her from Edinburgh as soon as he got off the plane, not really giving her an explanation for his sudden visit, but she hadn't asked for one. She'd been happy that he was coming, eager for the company of a friend. She understood instinctively that something wasn't right, without him actually having to tell her, but she hadn't asked any questions. There would be plenty of time for that later.

The little boat finally pulled up flush with the dock and he was close enough now that he could see the impatient flash of her green eyes as she glared in the direction of the ferryman, her drawn, pale face, the obvious worry and fear etched there, as she looked anxiously toward him. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Sometime between now and when he'd called her earlier, something had changed for the worse.

Peter felt his heart clench painfully, his chest constricting so that he could barely breathe. Fear crawled up his spine and lodged itself firmly in his throat, nearly choking him.

Please, God. Not Kitty.

Grabbing his bags quickly, he flung them onto the dock, not caring how they landed, as he bounded up and out of the boat to confront his worst fears.

Hands clasped, teeth worrying compulsively at her bottom lip, she watched him, waiting for him to clear the ferry. When he did, Rhane took a step toward him, but one look at his face must have shown her something of his terror, because she halted, nearly stumbled and her face crumpled, her eyes clouding up.

They both stood there, staring at one another, her liquid green eyes resting on his face as she took another tentative step toward him, one graceful hand pressed to her lips as if to keep whatever news she had inside.

"Peter...?" Her voice trembled uncertainly and the next second, she was flying at him and he caught her as she wrapped her arms around his neck hugging him fiercely.

"Oh, thank the guid Lord ye're here. Peter, what's happened?" she asked desperately. "The phone's been ringin' constantly for the last two hours. X-Men callin' with all kindsa strange questions, but none want to give out any answers. And they're lookin' for ye. And Kitty. What's happened to her?"

Her soft, melodious voice, raw with fear, conveying so much worry and concern just in the way she said his name, was what finally broke him, broke through the shield he'd been building up around himself all day. Peter buried his face in her hair and breathed her in, this girl who was so much like a little sister to him, his whole body shaking as he fought for the control that had been slowly slipping away from him for hours.

Laying her head against his shoulder, holding onto him fiercely as she tried to tamp down a fear that was rapidly blooming into full grown panic, Rhane stroked his back with one hand, making little nonsensical soothing noises, trying to comfort him as best she could, even as she sought comfort herself. She didn't yet know the whole story, but she'd gotten various, disjointed parts of it from several different people. She knew just enough to know that it was bad.

Just how bad had yet to be determined, but seeing the state that Peter was in wasn't a good sign. Only twice before, in all the years she'd known him, had Rhane seen him this upset, seen him look this distraught. The first had been when Illyana died. The other was the night he'd nearly killed Pete Wisdom in a fit of jealousy over Kitty.

Dear Lord, she prayed silently. "dinn'a let it be as bad as I'm thinkin'. Let Kitty be all right."

She didn't know what to do, other than be here for him, as he'd always tried to be for her, so she simply held onto him until he stopped shaking like he was about to fall into pieces on the ground, even though she felt like she could very well join him. When he finally relaxed his death grip and pulled back to look down at her, she looked back up at him worriedly.

"Are ye all right, Peter? I ken somethin' terrible's goin' on. They say Mystique is dead and..."

Peter's hands tightened on her convulsively and Rhane winced as his fingers bit into her upper arm. But he didn't notice. He was staring down at her in wide eyed horror. "Mystique is dead?" His head began to spin and Peter shook his head in firm denial of the thoughts that were now popping, unbidden, into his mind. "No. No." he told himself firmly. "She could not, would not, do that...."

As his voice trailed off, Rhane looked into his dark, sad eyes, searching his face and finding only grief and pain, two emotions she was well acquainted with of late. With a prayer for strength to endure what she was afraid was coming, she laid her hands on his arms, giving them a firm squeeze to get his attention again. "Who, Peter? Did what? Please, I wish ye'd tell me what's goin' on. I dinn'a mind tellin' ye, what I'm thinkin' is scarin' me near to death."

But, instead of the answers she'd been hoping for, Peter only answered her with another question, his face almost frantic. "Rhane, please....did they say what happened to Mystique? How did she die?"

"Aye." Rhane nodded, her face suddenly shuttered, her eyes growing hard as she thought of the woman who'd murdered her mother. "Kurt said she injected herself with the Legacy cure. I wish I could say I'm sorry, but I'm not. 'Tis probably the only decent thing the woman's e'er done in her life, but I cann'a be sorry she's dead."

"You are sure? She used the serum on herself? Of her own free will?" Peter asked urgently. He had to be sure, absolutely sure, that Kitty hadn't done it. If she had, he would know she was already lost, but if not, then there was still some hope. Slim as it might be, he would take what he could get.

"Aye." Rhane confirmed, puzzled as to why he was so concerned with the death of a woman the world would no doubt be much better off without. She was much more concerned with what may have happened to the young woman who was like her own sister. "Kurt said there was security video that showed how it happened. There's no doubt that she did it herself, though I cann'a imagine why. Now, will ye please tell me what's goin' on?"

With a nod, and a heartfelt sigh of relief, Peter turned, picking up his bags. "We should go inside. It is a very long story."

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Two pots of coffee and several hours later, Rhane was reading the last page of Kitty's letter to Peter, intermittently wiping her eyes to keep the tears from falling onto the paper and blurring the words.

Peter's slow, painful retelling of the events since Moira's funeral had pierced the former were-girl's heart and it bled for both of them. What a mess they had and none of it really their fault. It seemed no matter how hard the two of them tried, no matter what they did, fate conspired against them being together.

Rhane knew how much Peter loved Kitty, and she hadn't needed to read the words she'd written to him to know that Kitty returned his feelings. In the Scot's girl's opinion, she'd never stopped, she just didn't always let herself acknowledge it.

The young woman still remembered the night, it seemed so long ago now, when she'd sat in the monitor room, watching as Kitty went into the holding cell where Peter was being kept after his attack on Pete Wisdom.

She shouldn't have eavesdropped, Rhane knew that, but she'd been so worried about Peter she couldn't help it. She hadn't wanted the rest of the team to gang up on him and make a bad situation for all of them even worse. Granted, he needed to realize what an awful thing he'd done and accept responsibility for his actions, but she couldn't hate him and she hadn't wanted the others to, either.

Even after seeing what he'd done to their new British team mate, she'd known Peter wasn't a bad person, wasn't a violent man. But he'd lost everything, his brother, his parents, his sister. Then, he'd come here, looking for Kitty, the one person he'd thought he had left, only to find he'd lost her as well.

Rhane could understand how having one stress piled atop another for so long could push a person over the edge. She'd come very close to that edge herself recently.

What Peter hadn't known was that he'd never lost Kitty. Not really. Yes, he'd hurt her, on more than one occasion, and yes, she'd been very angry and wounded by what he'd done, the way he'd pushed her away time and again. But he hadn't seen her face the night she came to talk to him, how she'd looked when she'd turned to leave. He'd never seen her forced expression of cool anger fade and the tears start as she walked out the door.

And the tears hadn't been for Pete Wisdom. They'd been for Peter, for what had happened, for what was happening, for what they should have had together but never seemed to be able to. Rhane had been the only one to see that, and she'd never told another living soul, though she'd been sorely tempted. Especially once she'd noticed that Kitty and Pete's relationship was not working out as well as it might have.

But it hadn't been her place then, and it wasn't her place now. It was so long ago, and it was over. Besides, their feelings for one another didn't seem to be in question at this point. It was everything else that was giving them problems.

Specifically, the Soulsword.

The very name made Rhane shudder with revulsion. She remembered, much more clearly than she cared to, how the sword had effected Illyana, how it had slowly stripped the young sorceress's humanity from her, leaving little more than a demon in her place.

She didn't even want to contemplate what would happen to Kitty if she gave in and accepted the sword. Lady Moira had told her stories of the last time it had happened, when Excalibur had just moved to Muir Island. How Kitty was suddenly possessed by the Soulsword and tried to kill her. Her Mum had said it was like looking at someone else wearing Kitty's body.

Rhane was torn, afraid for Kitty, wanting to help her, not knowing how to do that, and wanting to respect Kitty's wishes and let her be, so that the Soulsword couldn't endanger her friends and family. It was a vicious loop of fear, frustration, and helplessness with no real end.

As she finished the letter, folded it back up and slid it across the table to Peter, she noticed that he looked just as confused and unsure as she felt. It must be horrible for him, not being able to do anything but wait.

Reaching across the old, scarred, wooden tabletop that had been in Moira's family for several generations, Rhane laid her hand over Peters, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Tell me what ye want to do, Peter. If ye think we should go after her, then that's what we'll do. I may not have my powers anymore, but I'm still an X-Man. I can still fight with the best of them."

Peter turned his hand over, engulfing her small fingers in his much larger ones, as he gave her a wan smile. Shaking his head, he exhaled heavily, staring down at the table top as if it might give up the answers to the questions flying through his mind.

"Honestly, Rhane, I do not know what to do. I am at a loss. I want, more than anything, to go after her, but she as much as begged me not to." After a moment, he raised his head, his blue eyes nearly black with hurt and despair, as if the feelings had the power to actually change the color. "Katya told Betsy that the Soulsword was a threat to me, as well as to her, and she was afraid that it would use her to get to me...."

As his voice trailed off, Rhane blew out a frustrated breath, sending her fringe of bangs flying. "And I dinn'a ken what to tell ye. If Kitty says that ye may be in danger from the sword if ye're around her, then I would imagine she has good reason to believe so. I remember what it did to Illyana..."

Closing her eyes, Rhane dropped her head into her free hand, remembering how Peter's sister had changed so when she'd thought the X-Men, her brother included, had all been killed in Dallas. It had all happened so quickly, that none of her team mates had seen it coming and many of them, Rhane included, had been more than a little afraid of the young Russian woman and her growing darkness.

"Ye weren'a there, then, and ye didn'a see how she changed, how quickly she lost control of herself and the sword. I ken ye were horrified by what she'd become at the end, during the Inferno, but she was nearly insane by then. We watched it swallow her, day by day, minute by minute, and t'was one of the most terrifyin' things I've e'er witnessed." She lifted her head then, green eyes rimmed with tears threatening to spill once again. "I dinn'a want to see that happen to Kitty and I dinn'a want to see that happen to ye. And I dinn'a know how to protect the both of ye. Even from one another."

In any other circumstances, the thought of the slender, Scot's girl protecting him would have made Peter laugh, or at least smile, but he had nothing to smile about at the moment. And he doubted that anyone could protect either Kitty or himself from this particular threat.

"Rhane, is there anything you remember from that time, anything that Illyana might have done or said, that would give us some idea of how to fight this thing?"

The young redhead took a moment, thinking back over the time she'd known Illyana Rasputin, but she could come up with very little. She'd been such a different person then and, because of Reverend Craig and all the nonsense he'd instilled in her, Rhane had been very uncomfortable around her young sorceress team mate, thinking her to be a willing servant of evil.

As a result, she knew there were probably things she'd missed that might have given them some clues about the current situation and the former shape-shifter couldn't help but be a little angry with her younger self for that rigid, self-righteous attitude.

"No." She said at length, with a small shake of her head. "Not really. I'm sorry, Peter. I should've paid more attention to her." Dropping her eyes, she swirled her spoon around in her coffee cup, her voice very soft and ashamed. "I should've been a better friend to Illyana. All she e'er really wanted was to fit in, to have friends, to be normal." A single tear slipped from the corner of her right eye and slid down her ivory cheek and she swiped at it with her fingertips just before it dripped off her chin. "I dinn'a ken why I couldn'a see it then, as I see it now. Maybe, if I had, she would still be here, she wouldn'a have given herself o'er to the darkness..."

"And, perhaps, if I had not gone to Dallas with the other X-Men, had not agreed to let the world believe us dead, things would have been different for my sister. Or, if Katya had not been so severely injured in the Morelock Massacre and sent away, sent here, to Muir Island, leaving Illyana with neither of us to anchor her to her humanity..."

He stopped, watching his friend for a moment before reaching across the small kitchen table and tipping her face up. When she finally raised her eyes to his, Peter continued. "Rhane, you were a very good friend to Illyana, as you have been a good friend to us all. None of what happened to her was your fault. If anything, your friendship may have been the only reason she was able to hold on as long as she did. And, in the end, it was you who showed her there was a better way. If anyone was at fault, it was only myself. I am the one who is to blame. I was her brother. I should never have left her alone."

"We all make mistakes, Peter." Rhane spoke calmly, with conviction, as she relived memories she'd suppressed for so very long. Until now, she'd shied away from dealing with them. They were too frightening, too painful. And, in all honesty, she was ashamed of some of them, of her actions in those days. Perhaps it was time, though, to drag that darkness out into the light, once and for all. "And ye were not alone in that one. The rest of the X-Men agreed to it as well, because ye all felt it best at the time. Ye felt it was the right choice....."

She stopped speaking abruptly, in mid-sentence, seeming to lose herself in her own thoughts. But, a moment later, her eyes snapped back to his, considering.

"What is it, Rhane?"

"I'm not sure. It may be nothin', just somethin' I suddenly remembered." Taking a second to gather her thoughts, she tried to be as accurate as possible. "I remember, at the last, Illyana talkin' about choices. She said that her only choice was to remove the choice. To make it as though she had never existed in Limbo at all. That's when she opened the teleportation circle wide...."

Her sharp green eyes lost their focus as the young woman saw, not the present and the little kitchen in the small cabin that had been the original house on Muir Island. She was seeing the past, years ago, on the day that demons rained from the sky on Time's Square. "...so very wide. I'd ne'er seen anythin' like it before, and ne'er have since. 'Twas beautiful, and terrible, all bright, silver-white light and cold fire. And Illyana stood in the middle of it, a golden angel made of light and flames."

"It reminded me of nothin' so much as the way that Rachel used to look, after she became the Phoenix..." Brow furrowing slightly, as if working out a problem, Rhane paused, but then shook the distraction from her head and continued. "She cast the Soulsword up, through the middle of the pillar of fire, and the light t'was blindin', brighter than the sun. I couldn'a look at her, but all the while, I held her, as a wee child, in my arms. Right up until the very last. Then, I lost my grip on her and, when I got it back again, I pulled Illyana's charred armor from Limbo. Ye know what happened after that."

With a sigh, she slumped back in the straight, wooden kitchen chair and closed her eyes for a moment, but all she could see was that circle of silver fire and the Lightchylde, burning in the center. "I dinn'a know what it means, if it means anythin'."

"Nor do I." Peter's short, choked, reply was all he could manage. Though he'd been there, through Inferno, fighting N'astirh, S'ym, Sinister, the Marauders, Madelyne, Alex, all of it, he hadn't witnessed exactly what had happened to his sister. Hearing Rhane describe it, in such detail, with such awe, tore at his very soul. Despite what had been done to her, despite what she'd become, at the end, his sister had sacrificed everything that she was to make the only choice she could. The right choice.

And, was Kitty not doing much the same? Was she not willing to sacrifice everything to save the people she cared about, the people she loved? Could he ask any less of himself, no matter how it might hurt? Most importantly, was there really anything he could do to help her with her fight now, or would his presence only make things more difficult for her?

As Peter pondered his own questions, Rhane was still lost in memories, sorting through images and words she hadn't unlocked in a very long time. After a few minutes pause, she resumed speaking, turning her abstract train of thought into words in an effort to see things more clearly.

"I also remember somethin' Sam said, right afterwards. He wondered why, if Illyana had made it so she ne'er went to Limbo in the first place, did we all still remember her, as a teenager. I dinn'a give it much thought at the time, but it does seem a wee bit strange, now that I think about it."

Peter only shrugged, only half-listening to her now as he tried to sort through his own thoughts. "Limbo is a strange place, not bound by the same laws of time and space as earth. If Illyana changed something there, I do not suppose there is any guarantee that it would affect things as we would think."

Rhane nodded, but still, something pulled at her memory, making her feel as if she were missing an obvious piece of the puzzle, some connection they should have put together. But she couldn't quite grasp it, couldn't quite bring it into focus. Finally, she gave up and let it go. Perhaps it wasn't as important as she'd thought, anyway.

"I'm sorry I cann'a be more help. I feel like I should be doin' somethin' to help Kitty, but I dinn'a ken what." she exhaled heavily, eyes once more on her coffee cup. "I hope Logan and Kurt find her soon."

"I feel the same." Peter reassured her. "But, perhaps, this is something she truly has to face alone, much as I do not wish to admit it. Just as Illyana had to, ultimately, face her own demons alone." With a resigned sigh, Peter Rasputin made his decision, the only decision that he truly could make, under the circumstances. "Perhaps, the best I can do for Katya at this time is to comply with her wishes, to return to my art and my life as Peter Nicholas. And hope, pray, that one day she will be able to return to me."

Reluctantly, Rhane nodded and the two of them sat there, heads down, thoughts a continent away, feeling useless and lost. Wondering how their friends were faring tonight, and praying that the morning sun would bring good news.

And, outside, in the cold, foggy, Scottish night, evil smiled.

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Amanda Sefton tried the spell for the eighth time that day, and for the eighth time it failed spectacularly.

Cursing a blue streak in fluent, descriptive, German, the sorceress of The Winding Way, and former Queen of Limbo, plopped down in one of the two rickety chairs at the small dinette table that - along with a battered dresser, a mutilated night stand, and a sagging bed with no headboard and threadbare sheets - comprised the furniture in the small, dilapidated hotel room.

The sad thing was, this was one of the nicer hotels in Genosha. Considering the sheer size, number, and aggressive disposition of some species of the native insect population she'd encountered here so far, Amanda was sincerely glad they hadn't ended up in one of the real shitholes.

Propping her elbows on the scarred, wobbly table, she dropped her chin into her hands and continued scowling fiercely at nothing and muttering imprecations concerning the questionable parentage of the progenitor of her, currently, most troublesome spell.

She was still going strong as a soft "bamf", the obligatory sulfurous cloud, and following sharp stench of brimstone announced the arrival of her foster-brother, former lover, and current partner in chaos.

"Liebchen!" Kurt gasped dramatically, placing one three-fingered hand over his heart in mock-shock. "Such language! And from such an attractive mouth. What would Mother say?"

"She'd say 'Stuff it, Blue Boy.'" The disgruntled strawberry-blonde growled, eyes narrowed to annoyed slits and flashing blue sparks as she cut them his way.

Undaunted, Kurt strolled over, taking the second chair, turning it around backwards, and dropping down casually, arms crossed over the back as he rested his chin on his forearm and watched her with familiar, burning, golden eyes.

"Still no luck, Liebe?"

Amanda didn't bother asking with what. "Nope. I've tried every spell, every trick, I know. I can go anywhere else I want. Except Limbo. Whatever's happened, whatever reason has the Soulsword stuck to Kitty, has also sealed off Limbo. At least, I'm guessing they're connected. It seems too much to be a coincidence. I suppose it's good I got out when I did, or I'd probably be stuck there."

"I don't understand any of this." Kurt sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Could Kitty be in Limbo? Could she have somehow sealed it against intruders?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Amanda smirked lopsidedly, an expression she often adopted when annoyed with something, or someone. "I don't think so, but who knows, really. I just wish I could get back there. Just for a few damn minutes. All I want are a few books that I think might be able to help us out on this."

"Still thinking about the amulet?" But he knew she was, before he even asked the question. Ever since Peter and Betsy had mentioned the Bloodstone Amulet, Amanda had been almost obsessed by it, convinced that it held some kind of clue, a key to what was happening with Kitty and the Soulsword.

"It's just so familiar. I have this feeling that I should know what it is, what it means, but it won't come to me." She pounded one fist on the rickety table in abject frustration, sending it rocking violently. "It's like....I don't know....like, if I could just remember....." She let the sentence trail off helplessly as she turned to him, everything seeming to drain out of her at once until she just looked deflated. "It's driving me nuts."

"I can tell." he replied, matter-of-factly, earning him a slightly less withering glare than he was expecting. "What about Mother? Would she be able to help?"

"Maybe, but I can't find her. Scrying doesn't work. Locator spells don't work. If I didn't know better, I'd say she's dropped off the face of the earth."

This time, it was Kurt's turn to shrug. "You know how she is. She will show up in her own, good time."

"Fat lot of good that does us now." Her scowl was back and Amanda decided to change the subject. She was really too irritated with this brick wall she seemed to be bashing her head against to talk about it now. "What about Logan? Have you heard anything else from him? Has he gotten any information from his sources?"

"Very little." Kurt admitted. "Though one did tell him that a girl fitting Kitty's description had been seen around Magda Square once or twice. Though, in truth, it could have been almost anyone, I suppose. He is out now, talking to another of his contacts."

"Maybe, when he gets back, we can all sit down. I've been thinking..."

"A very dangerous pastime, meine lieb." Kurt cut in with a devilish grin, which always worked well for him, considering his appearance. Amanda couldn't help but grin back a little in return.

"Very funny, Fuzzy. Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted....I'd like to write some stuff down, get some details from you two and try to get some coherent order on all this, see if I can discern some type of pattern." At his sharply arched brow, the former Daytripper chuckled. "Ok, I know it's grasping at straws, but what else do we have? It's not like information, or clues, are falling on us out of the sky here."

"Good point." Kurt conceded good naturedly, enjoying the teasing by-play. It had been too long since he'd seen Amanda and he'd realized these last few days just how much he'd missed her. "Why not begin now? I can tell you what I know and what I remember from my own trips to Limbo and you can question Logan later."

"Ok." Amanda brightened slightly at the prospect of actually doing something productive. Even though Genosha was a fairly small country, and rather isolated, it still wasn't easy to track one young woman, who definitely didn't want to be found, through a country of millions, with no real clues on where to even start looking. If they didn't make some progress in their search soon they were all going to go crazy out of sheer frustration.

Standing, she went to the much-abused night stand, opened the one drawer and withdrew several rather ratty looking pieces of hotel stationary and a pen, then returned to the table, her hand holding the pen and poised to write. "So spill. Tell me whatever you remember. I want to know names, dates as best you can recall, anything that might even remotely help us understand what's going on."

With a nod, Kurt began to relate the details of the several times he'd been to Limbo, beginning with the first time, when the X-Men had gone in search of Kitty and Illyana, and ending with the time, while they were with Excalibur, that he, Kitty, and Piotr had been sucked in for Belasco's strange test.

As he spoke, Amanda wrote furiously, only interrupting occasionally in order to clarify some detail or ask for more in-depth information. Even Kurt was amazed at the amount that he remembered. When they were done, they had several handwritten pages of random facts.

Putting their heads together, they went through the raw information, trying to categorize it, looking for similarities, connections, or anything that might stand out. When that proved too slow, Kurt went to his and Logan's room and came back with the laptop they'd borrowed from the mansion.

"Let's give this a try. Perhaps, if we can enter all the key information into some kind of database it will be easier to match things up." He grinned at her suddenly, the expression both boyish and a endearing, despite the prominent fangs, making Amanda's heart do a little flip-flop. "Besides, I believe I'm beginning to go cross-eyed."

Taking the laptop from his as he sat back down, scooting his chair closer to hers, Amanda took the computer from him, opened it up and turned it on. As she scrolled through the menu of programs, looking for an adequate database to use, she glanced at him out of the corners of her eyes, a slightly wicked grin curving her lips.

"And how, exactly, would we be able to tell if you did go cross-eyed?" she asked as innocently as she possibly could, blue eyes sparkling with humor.

"Ha, ha. Very funny." Kurt replied flatly, all at once sounding very unamused as the smile left his face to be replaced by a hard, emotionless mask.

Amanda blinked at him, her own mood, which had been improving as they worked together, darkening again. It was very unlike Kurt to be so easily offended by a little harmless teasing, especially when he'd seemed to be in a rather playful mood. But when his expression remained set, she decided she'd better apologize. Apparently, things between them were even worse than she'd thought.

Before she could open her mouth, though, his tail whipped up to tickle her ribcage, a surprise attack in retaliation for her teasing.

With a squeal, Amanda jumped sideways, instinctively trying to avoid the agile appendage, and nearly fell out of her chair. She giggled, swatting at the spaded tip of his tail with one hand, as it continued to try and poke at her side, while holding tightly to the back of her chair with the other as she tried not to land on the floor. God alone only knew what was down there.

"Stop it, you louse!" Though she was trying to be serious, she couldn't help but laugh as his whip-like tail continued trying to sneak through her defenses. "I thought you were really mad at me."

Nightcrawler gave up the game, tilting his head to one side as he gazed back at her curiously. "Why would you think that, Liebe?"

The lovely sorceress shrugged, giving him a tight lipped smile. "Oh, I dunno. Maybe because I haven't even come by for a visit in the last couple of years?" She hadn't meant for it to be like that, for it to be so long, but things had just happened. Then, one day she'd looked up and years had passed.

"Ach, is that what you've been worried about?" Kurt shook his head in disbelief. "I knew you hadn't been acting yourself for the past several days, but I thought it was perhaps this situation with Kitty."

"Well, yes. That. But not just that." She smiled up into his face, studying the angular, chiseled planes, features that, if taken alone, individually, might not be considered anything special, but together were very attractive. Amanda had always thought he had a good face. A face that suited his personality. A familiar and much loved face. "I've really missed you, Kurt. Every day. I'm sorry it took this tragedy to make me realize just how much."

His thick, calloused fingers skimmed softly down her cheek as his golden eyes seemed to glow even brighter. "I've missed you as well, Liebchen, but I know how our respective responsibilities can take over our lives. I was never angry with you." Then, he was grinning again, his eyes crinkling up at the corners in that way that always made her go all soft and mushy. "Well, not much, anyway."

With a snort of mock outrage, Amanda swung at him, meaning to slap him playfully on the shoulder. Instead, she found her wrist caught in one of his strong hands as he gave her arm a gentle tug. She let him pull her toward him and he let loose his hold on her wrist as she wound her arms around his neck.

"I still love you, you know." Amanda told him quietly as she closed her eyes, pulling his head down.

"I love you, too." she heard him reply, just before his mouth met hers and she forgot everything else.

One of Kurt's hands slid around her waist as his other combed through her long, silky hair, coming to rest at the back of her head, holding her mouth to his as he took the kiss from light and soft to deep and hungry. God, how he'd missed this woman, and how glad he was, despite the circumstances, that she was finally back in his life.

Amanda tightened her arms around his neck, pressing closer, as all the months apart melted away in an instant, in one single kiss. It was as if she were suddenly home again and her heart soared. Whatever the outcome of this thing with Kitty, the young sorceress knew , in that instant, that she wouldn't be leaving Kurt again.

When they broke apart, she sighed contentedly. "Fuzzy, do you think Logan would be insulted if his current room mate abandoned him in favor of a less hairy, less masculine replacement?"

"Nein." Kurt grinned down at her wickedly. "I believe he would completely understand." Then, he arched one eyebrow, watching her speculatively. "Frauline, did you just proposition me?"

"Absolutely." she replied with all sincerity, though her azure eyes sparkled with mischief. "Whadda ya say, Kurt? Wanna shack up?"

"Ja. Sür Gut."

With a grin,she kissed him again, quickly but soundly, before turning back to the the computer. "Now, that's all settled, let's get back to work. I really want to see what I can figure out from all this."

Unable to keep the somewhat goofy smile off of his face, Kurt turned as well, leaving one arm draped over the back of her chair, as he picked up the sheaf of papers in front of him. "I'll read, you type."

Beside him, Amanda rolled her eyes dramatically. "Well, I didn't see that one coming."

**********************************************************************************************************************

Slumping back in her chair, Kitty's fingertips scrubbed roughly over her tired eyes. With a groan, she let her eyelids fall closed, giving her pupils, and her mind, a few minutes of much needed rest. If she kept pushing herself like she had been the last few days, she wasn't only going to be blind, she was going to be insane as well.

But what else was she going to do? She sure wasn't having much luck with the main reason she was here, in this hell hole.

She'd hit Genosha just in time to witness the swift and complete recovery of nearly every person infected with the Legacy virus. Granted, some of the more advanced cases were still in hospital, regaining their strength. But the majority of the victims were almost good as new overnight. They went from death's doorstep to almost perfect health in the span of a few short hours. It was absolutely astounding. And it made her heart ache for Illyana, who'd never had the chance to live long enough for this cure to do her one bit of good.

Just one more thing to add to her growing pile of "things that should have been". One more thing to let drive her a step closer to insanity. Just like all these damned diaries.

Kitty opened her eyes and looked down at the pile of books that sat on the motel room table. In all, they represented seven of Destiny's Libris Veritatus. There were copies of the one she'd found originally, the one that had come to her a short while later, and the five that she'd taken from Professor Xavier's Ready Room the morning she'd left Westchester.

Since most of the first book had already been loaded into this computer program, she was currently working on the second of the two that had come to her, but she wasn't having much luck. Much of it was in a strange, almost symbolic, language that she could have sworn she'd seen before, but couldn't remember where. And she certainly couldn't read it, nor could she find anything to compare to it on any of the language translation websites she was familiar with.

Hell, she could have translated ancient Egyptian easier than she could translate this stuff.

Some of the passages were accompanied by pictures, but they didn't really make any sense either without being able to read the words that they went with. What little she had been able to decipher so far made little or no sense, but she was trying.

The whole thing was really beginning to get under her skin. Lately, neither her memory nor her intelligence in general seemed to be functioning normally and Kitty just knew she was missing something. Some part of the whole that might make it all come together. Unfortunately, no answers seemed forthcoming.

Turning back to her laptop with a weary sigh, she looked back down once more at the open book in front of her, reading the passage written there, one of the few in any language that she could actually read.

Amidst death and the raging fire of the Hunters,

It is at last called forth in despair.

The Books must be gathered,

To their known number, add one.

The Knowledge shall guide,

An ally in Wisdom.

The Keeper awakens,

Seeking the Champion.

Kitty typed in the stanza, shaking her head. It was like trying to decipher the prophecies of Nostradamus. In fact, some of the writing bore a strong resemblance to his quatrains. But what did it mean?

The Books, that was fairly easy. She figured it was safe to assume that meant the diaries, but the next phrase had her stumped. To their known number, add one. Did that mean there was one more diary that they didn't know about? If that were true, then there would be fourteen diaries instead of thirteen. It would make sense, she supposed. Especially if the fourteenth book were an index, like a key, to the rest. But, as of right now, Kitty had no idea where the rest of the set might be. Maybe Ororo's team would actually have some luck in that department.

She had to skip the first verse entirely, because she had absolutely no idea what the Hunters might be or what would be called forth in despair. There were several words, however, that caught her attention.

It spoke of the Knowledge, the Keeper, and the Champion. All words she'd heard in her dreams, words that the Soulsword had spoken to her about. But she still had no idea what they meant, if they pertained to people, objects, or something entirely different.

It might be safe to assume that Knowledge applied to the diaries as well. That seemed to correspond to the images in her dreams, also. And, of course, she knew the image of the Soulsword. The one that had her really stumped was the bird of fire. It was, obviously, the symbol for the Phoenix force and, just as obviously, corresponded to Power, but what part could it possibly play in this scenario? And why would it play any part at all?

And that only left Justice to match to the Soulsword. Kitty was having a very hard time reconciling those two things, which brought the her whole interpretation into question again. All in all, she was left feeling as if she were going round an round in circles.

If she hadn't been sure Pete was dead, she could almost believe the part about an Ally in Wisdom might pertain to him, but there was no doubt that he was, indeed, dead. So that destroyed that theory. Perhaps it was a metaphor for the information, the wisdom, contained in the diaries, but there was no way to be sure.

As for The Keeper and The Champion, those were anybody's guess. She had a suspicion that the reference to the Keeper might in some way connect to the Bloodstone Amulet, but it was no more than a hunch. Right now, in her present state, Kitty wasn't sure she could trust her instincts as well as she might otherwise. Everything with her had seemed skewed since she got here.

Shrugging, she plugged what information she had, or could reasonably speculate on, into the database she'd designed. It would be a tedious task to enter it all into the computer, but it would be the most accurate way to look for patterns that she just wasn't capable of seeing or recognizing in her current state.

Once everything on that one particular passage was entered, she moved onto the next, but it proved just as puzzling, if not more so.

From the Tribes of the Desert,

From the Mountains and Snow,

Comes the Warrior of the Sword,

Comes the Pure and Noble Soul of Balance,

Though the trials will be many,

Fate shall reign triumphant.

The Bond, at last, is Forged.

Innocence willingly given in love,

The Keeper to the Champion.

The Voice of the Sword rings out, calling to it's Sisters.

Kitty's head was so full, it was practically buzzing. She'd lost count of how many of these things she'd typed in so far and they just kept getting more and more puzzling. Just like the others, this one had words which seemed to mean something to her.

The Warrior of the Sword. Was that her? Amanda? Illyana? Or something, or someone, else entirely different. Kitty was assuming it was speaking of the Soulsword, but it could just as easily be something else completely.

Then there were those two words again, always seeming to be linked together. The Keeper to the Champion. In her dreams, the Soulsword spoke of a Keeper and a Champion, though the Champion part was fairly recent. And she had no idea, again, if it would be a person or an object. Common sense pointed to it being a person, though common sense didn't always apply to the Diaries or the Soulsword.

So, where did that leave her? Who, or what, were the Keeper and the Champion. And what was their connection to the Soulsword, if that actually was what this was referencing. The Keeper of what? The Champion of what, or who? And, since when did the Soulsword have sisters?

Oh, boy. I must be getting really punchy. This is all starting to sound ridiculous, even to me.

Again, her vision blurred and Kitty finally gave in. She closed the book, carefully marking her place, then saved her work and turned off the computer. As always, there was the nagging feeling that she was missing something, something she should have picked up on before now, but, as always, whatever it was eluded her.

Perhaps she didn't really want to know what it was. All of this reminded her, way too much, of trying to decipher the first diary before the calling of the Twelve. And just look how successful that had been.

She'd spend hours upon hours, days upon days, barely sleeping, hardly eating, feeding info from that Diary into the main computer, trying to come up with something, some little bit of information, that would help them in the coming battle. But none of it had made any sense. Not really. Not even with Cable contributing what he knew from the future he'd grown up in. Not until it all started happening and they could put the pieces together in retrospect. There again, it resembled the prophecies of Nostrodamus. For the most part, they'd only been able to sit back and watch events unfold.

They'd managed to eek out just enough from the Diaries to give them a slight edge. In the end, they'd saved the world, but they'd lost Scott. He'd sacrificed himself to enable Nathan to destroy Apocalypse.

And with Scott gone, all chances of Rachel being born in this time line went with him. Not only was the time line she'd been thrown into destroyed with Apocalypse's death, but now, she'd never have a life here, either.

Kitty knew that, in the last few weeks, she'd probably cried enough to flood a river, but she couldn't help but shed a few more as she thought of the last time she'd seen her friend. The one thing Rachel had asked of her just before she'd entered the time stream to change places with Brian Braddock, so that he could return to his proper time, to Meggan.

Kitty, promise me you'll say "Hello".

I...I don't understand.

When I'm born, to Scott and Jean. Promise me you'll hold me in your arms...keep me safe and warm...and give me a kiss "hello".

I...promise.

Rachel had been so happy that day. They'd just returned from Jean and Scott's wedding and it was as if the normally morose, troubled young woman had a new lease on life. She'd been so full of joy, so optimistic. Then she was gone.

Just another friend Kitty would never see again. No matter which way she turned, no matter what she did, it seemed that was her fate. To be forever alone.

With a sniff, Kitty wiped her eyes, and slid her chair back from the table, glancing at the clock as she did so. She still had a few hours before she had to meet her contact.

Though it was the last thing she wanted to do right now, she knew she had to catch up on at least a little sleep. The dreams would come, of course, and the Soulsword would call to her, as it always did, but she couldn't continue as she was. Where she was going, she would need as many of her wits about her as she could muster.

Not bothering to undress, she curled up on her side on the rumpled, ragged bed and closed her eyes, mentally bracing herself for what would come next.

**********************************************************************************************************************

They'd been at their task for several hours and Kurt's eyes felt as if they were full of sand from staring at the papers as well as the laptop screen. With a yawn, he pushed back from the table, stood, and stretched, arching his back to work out the kinks from sitting in that torture device some idiot had passed off as a chair.

He looked over to find Amanda doing much the same, straightening up from her hunched position, rolling her head around and around on her neck to get the stiffness out after all that time spent in one uncomfortable position. Out of long habit, he moved behind her, massaging her shoulders to help her loosen up.

With a moan of pure ecstasy, Amanda dropped her head forward so that he could work more easily on her stiff, sore muscles with his strong hands.

"Kurt, you are a god."

"Ja. Well, one does what one can." His thick fingers worked expertly around her shoulders and neck, working on the knotted muscles he was finding there. Amanda was taking this whole situation just as hard as the rest of them. Maybe more so. She was driving herself mercilessly trying to figure this all out, when he wasn't sure that was possible.

It had taken them hours, but they'd finally gotten all the information they could come up with into the computer. Now, they had to try and analyze it all and see what they came up with. Kurt was not expecting any miracles, but he was hoping maybe it would give them a little more to go on than what they had. Which was nearly nothing.

"So, has all of this paralysis and near blindness we are currently suffering earned us anything? Has any of this random information told you anything new."

"Well," Amanda began somewhat reluctantly. "Yes. And no." Laying her head back, she glanced up at him briefly before returning her attention to the computer screen in front of her. "There are definitely a few things that stand out to me. We'll probably get more, once the search in progress has finished filtering everything, but here's what I can come up with strictly on human brainpower."

As she hit a few keys, calling up a stream of words and phrases in some sort of spreadsheet format, Kurt's hands stilled and he rested them lightly on her shoulders as his eyes locked on the information she was pointing to.

"Of course, we know with reasonable certainty which X-Men have been to Limbo. That wasn't that hard to figure. Apparently, the first team was from an alternate dimension or timeline and the lineup was exactly the same as the first team from our earth that was pulled in. Illyana, Shadowcat...though she was Sprite then, wasn't she?" She looked up to Kurt and, at his nod of affirmation, she continued.

"Anyway...Illyana, Shadowcat, or Sprite, Storm, Colossus, Wolverine. The main difference was the outcome. The first team, the one from somewhere else, was stuck in Limbo, while their Illyana escaped, presumably back to their home earth. Now, from what Betsy could tell us of her experiences in Kitty's dream, or visions, or whatever, plus what Kitty herself told her, we know, with some certainty, what happened to that team. Wolverine was killed almost immediately. Nightcrawler was corrupted by Belasco. Kitty was captured, imprisoned, and tortured...."

"Ja, ja. I remember the details, Liebe. Can we possibly skip over them this time. They made me physically ill before." Kurt shot her a pleading look and Amanda nodded. It wasn't exactly something she wanted to think about any more either, but, if they were going to stand a chance of solving this puzzle, she had no choice.

"Ok, so we know all the gory details of what happened to the first X-Men in Limbo. The second team, our team, was made up of exactly the same members, but their fates were almost the exact opposite. The rest of you made it back safely, but Illyana was stuck there for seven years, while only a few seconds passed here." Amanda stopped, rubbing at her eyes, then closing them briefly, resting them.

Though the labor they'd been involved in these last few hours hadn't been physical, it had been just as tiring, not to mention they hadn't exactly gotten anything close to a normal night's sleep since they'd gotten here a few days ago.

Eyes still closed, she leaned back, letting her head rest against Kurt's abdomen as she continued from memory. "And, of course, we know how all that eventually turned out. What I found really interesting, however, was the next two visits."

"Ah, yes. The infamous excursion with Excalibur, Dr. Doom, and the West Coast Avengers, who had to come pull our collective behinds out of the soup. Not exactly one of my favorite memories." One side of Kurt's mouth twisted in a wry grin. "Though I'm certain the story works well for comic relief."

"Well, yeah." Amanda admitted, releasing the chuckle she'd been trying to hold back since he'd haltingly told her the rather embarrassing story of how Dr. Doom had talked Kitty into drawing the sword and accompanying him into Limbo, where he promptly took control of the sword and tried to destroy the entire dimension in order to mine it for an abundant native mineral that produced unlimited energy.

Unfortunately, the process was sucking England in through Doom's portal and his control over the dimension's demon population allowed him to make short work of Excalibur when they tried to stop him. It had actually been the Lady of the Lake who had gone for the West Coast Avengers, consisting at that time of the Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, Tigra, Iron Man, Wonder Man, and She-Hulk.

She'd sent them into Limbo to rescue Kurt and the rest of Excalibur, which they did. And, together, the two teams had defeated Doom and his demons and saved England as well as Limbo. But what had interested Amanda hadn't been the battle or Doom's ability to wield the sword, which hadn't been that surprising, given his his background. It had been Rachel's actions in stopping Doom from destroying Limbo.

"But that's not the point. The point is how Rachel stopped Doom from destroying the heart of Limbo."

"What was so special about that?" Kurt asked, his brow knitting together in puzzlement. "She simply did what she would normally do by stopping the movement of the sword with her telekinesis."

"But why was she able to stop it?"

At this, Kurt looked down at her in surprise, but she still had her eyes closed, so she didn't see. "Amanda, she was the Phoenix. One of the most, if not the most, powerful forces in the universe...."

"Doesn't matter." she replied matter-of-factly before he could finish. Opening her eyes to look up at him now, she smiled slightly at the way his forehead was creased and lifted her hand to run her index finger lightly over the little lines between his eyes until they smoothed out. "Don't look so puzzled. I'm going to explain it all to you."

"Good." He nipped lightly at her finger as she lowered it and saw her eyes darken slightly, making him smile. "Please do."

"It doesn't matter how physically, or psychically, powerful Rachel, as the Phoenix, was. You told me yourself that she'd tried to remove the Soulsword form the stone it was sheathed in before Kitty drew it and she couldn't do it."

"Ja. She tried with all the power she had and could not budge it even an inch. Kitty was the only one who could pull it free." Kurt confirmed.

"So, then, how did she manage to stop it in mid stroke and, for all intents and purposes, take it away from Dr. Doom in Limbo, as well as hold that entire dimension together with simply the sheer force of her will?" Amanda asked. After a moment, she could almost see the lightbulb pop on over Kurt's head. "She should no more have been able to stop that sword in mid-stroke, especially when someone else had control of it, much less take the sword away from the wielder, than she was able to pull it from the stone it was embedded in. Kitty, maybe, but not Rachel. No matter how much raw power the Phoenix possesses, the Soulsword is a mystical object, bound by a totally different set of rules. It makes me wonder what would have happened if Rachel had actually touched it, instead of holding it with her TK."

"Are you saying that Rachel is in some way connected to Limbo as well? Or the Soulsword?" Kurt seemed to ponder this for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Amanda, but there's no evidence to support that, except for that one incident."

"No, Kurt. That's not what I'm saying at all, though it's possible." Shifting positions, she turned around in her chair so that she could talk to him head on instead of looking at him upside down. "What I'm saying is that Rachel and Kitty were connected, in almost the same way that Kitty and Illyana were connected."

Now, Kurt was truly confused. The more they talked, the more they theorized, the less clear things seemed to become. It was extremely frustrating. Rubbing his eyes, tiredly, he looked down at his foster sister.

"If that were true, shouldn't the same thing that happened with the Soulsword have happened with the Phoenix force? Shouldn't Kitty have inherited it as well, once Rachel was gone?"

"No." Amanda sighed, trying to think how she could possibly explain this complicated set of relationships and connections to someone else, when she wasn't sure she understood it herself. "And you're still assuming that the Soulsword wasn't originally meant for Kitty, which I'm becoming more and more convinced is actually the case. But, that's neither here nor there at the moment...." Arranging her thoughts in her own mind, the young sorceress continued with her theory.

"Look at the parallel's between Illyana's history and Rachel's. Illyana, trapped in Limbo, was rescued and basically raised and protected by Cat, Kitty's counterpart from another dimension, or timeline. Cat was the one who gave Illyana the knowledge and skills, the strength, both physical and mental, that she needed to defeat Belasco and return home.'

"In Rachel's time, she was basically raised, and looked after, by her world's Kate Rasputin, again Kitty's counterpart. Kate was like a second mother to her. In fact, it was Kate who was responsible for the Phoenix force bringing Rachel to this time, to save her from the Sentinel driven holocaust of that timeline."

"It was also the Phoenix force that was responsible for Kitty coming to the X-Men in the first place." Kurt supplied, having suddenly remembered that particular bit of information.

Amanda shot him a puzzled look. "What do you mean? I thought Professor Xavier was the one who found her?"

"Ja." Kurt nodded. "But it was the Phoenix, while it was posing as Jean Grey, that rescued Kitty after the Hellfire Club attacked the X-Men. Kitty's parents were furious with us for endangering their daughter. They would never have let her come with us afterwards, if the Phoenix hadn't tampered with their memories."

Amanda blinked at him, astonished. "How come I've never heard any of this before?"

Kurt simply shrugged his shoulders. "It was not something we particularly liked to talk about. And, soon after that, we were all mourning the death of Jean. Or rather the Phoenix force, but we did not realize it wasn't her at the time. Honestly, I haven't thought of that particular incident in years."

"Circles within circles. And Kitty at the heart of it all." Amanda mumbled with a sigh. "Then, we have the Books of Truth, and Irene Adler, who are also heavily connected to Kitty, as well as Illyana, though I'm not sure exactly how all that works in, either. But, don't you find it interesting, almost peculiar, that we have three young women, all of approximately the same age, all tightly interconnected, both to one another and to three different, powerful, forces? Yet, the three were rarely, if ever, all together at the same time, due to very strange and unlikely circumstances."

"I am afraid I am not following you." Kurt was beginning to feel as if he'd slipped through the looking glass and into Wonderland, where nothing made any real sense.

"In magical, and some religious, circles," Amanda explained. "the number three and five are considered special, powerful. Especially the trinity. The three. Think Christianity's Holy Trinity. Or the Three Fates from Greek Mythology. Or the nine circles of Hell, a number divisible by three. If they had all been practitioners of the mystical arts, I would say that they made up the Prophetic Trinity and everything that had happened to the three of them had been engineered to keep them separated."

"But they were not all practitioners of magic. Only Illyana. And, obviously, she is no longer a factor. Neither is Rachel. Which still leaves only Kitty and this current situation. Frankly, I am hoping that we are able to actually keep her on this plane of existence." Kurt's comment was wry, somewhat sarcastic, but underneath, was a strong current of worry and hurt. He had lost enough friends over the years. He wasn't prepared to lose another. "So, how does all this knowledge of all these connections help us?"

With a sad shake of her head, Amanda slumped in her chair. "I'm not sure. Maybe not at all. But having all the knowledge possible can't hurt either, whether we have a use for it right now or not. Besides, I'm still convinced that this mysterious Bloodstone Amulet plays some kind of pivotal role in all this. I just wish I could get a good look at it, or talk to someone who has."

"I am afraid that, if Peter could not give you a description, then that, most likely, will not be possible. The only others who could would have are Illyana, and Kitty herself...."

"And one is dead, while the other is the reason we need the information." Amanda finished with a sigh of defeat. "I know. Not very likely, huh?"

"Not at all." Kurt agreed. Weary of discussions of Limbo, Soulswords, Amulets, death, disaster and disappearances, the German X-Man decided to change the subject for a short time. Looking at his watch, he glanced back at Amanda. "I wonder what is keeping Logan. It is after 11:00 PM and I would have expected him back long before now."

"Oh, God. Is it that late? Jeez. No wonder I'm starving." She glanced up from her perusal of the computer information with a slightly worried look. "Do you think we should be worried about Logan?"

Kurt couldn't help but smile at that. "Nein. I believe the Wolverine can take care of himself quite well. I am hoping his absence means he has come upon some information about Kitty."

"From your mouth to God's ear, Fuzzy."

**********************************************************************************************************************

Kitty was up and dressing a good ten minutes before the alarm went off with a loud buzz. Quickly, she reached over and hit the off button, her nerves not quite able to handle the added annoyance.

Her stomach was still rather unsettled, as it had been for weeks and weeks now every time she woke up. She knew it was because of the dreams, because of the things she was forced to live through every night.

This time had been one of the strangest yet.

She was inside the temple. How she knew was beyond her, but she did. Just as she knew everything had fallen apart.

All around her was fire, and blood, the screams of the wounded and dying as a battle raged. She could smell the burning flesh, the coppery tang of blood hanging in the air about her. It ran over the finely veined marble floor in a crimson river. And the metallic ring of metal on metal mixed in with all the other sounds, almost drowning them out, as sword met sword, shield met armor.

Despite her instincts scrambling to the fore, screaming at her to escape, she ran toward the sounds of battle, instead of away from them. In her mind was only one purpose. She had to find him. If she could only get to him in time, they might yet be able to route this invasion and turn it to their favor.

It wasn't until an enemy soldier, if you could call the monstrosity a soldier at all, appeared in front of her that she realized she was holding a sword of her own. With hardly a thought, her instincts took over and she dispatched the interloper within seconds, cleaving his grotesque head from his shoulders, despite the fact that she was hampered by some sort of long, flowing gown.

She barely even paused in her quest as she hopped over the fallen soldier's still body and made her way toward the area where the sounds of fighting were fiercest. As fast as her feet, and clothing, would allow her, she maneuvered through columned halls, and wide, ornately decorated passageways, letting her instincts guide her to where she wanted to go.

Finally, she rounded a corner and stepped out into what was, obviously, the main chamber of the building. A vast, open, room, decorated in the center with a pentagram of inlaid silver on a gold-veined marble floor. It would have been exquisitely lovely, breathtaking, if it weren't littered with the bodies of dead and dying soldiers, while all around, dozens more continued the struggle.

Trying to ignore the horrible spectacle, her eyes scanned the room, looking for the one she'd come for, knowing that, despite the sameness of the temple soldier's armor, she would have no trouble identifying him from the crowd.

Her mind steadfastly refused to acknowledge the horror that had so suddenly erupted around her out of the peaceful, still night. It was the only thing that was keeping her sane in this living nightmare. Spread out before her as it was now, however, the evidence was becoming ever more difficult to ignore.

The enemy soldiers were like none she'd ever seen, like none she hoped to see ever again. They were shades of green, purple, red, brown, and blue, covered in scales or fur, or even slime in some cases, horns protruding from their heads in places, snouts instead of noses, fangs and claws instead of teeth and hands. Many even had hooves where their feet should have been, and not a few had long, whip-like tails with pointed tips. Her mind whispered to her that they had been invaded by the armies of Hell itself.

She didn't doubt it in the least.

At last, her eyes settled on the tallest head in the crowd, the captain of the temple guard, her Champion, the man she was promised to. The man that was to have been her husband this very day.

Never taking her eyes from him as he fought with a one of the larger soldiers in the invading army, she made her way across the massive room, letting nothing stand in her way. To her surprise, none bothered her or tried to detain her. In fact, the enemy seemed to be studiously avoiding her. For what reason, she couldn't imagine. Perhaps, as a woman, they did not feel that she presented a plausible threat. She would have been glad to prove them wrong.

The Champion dispatched his foe with all speed and efficiency, then whirled, looking for his next opponent. It was then that he spotted her coming across the floor toward him. She saw his astonishment, then his fear for her, and, at last, a kind of wide-eyed horror as he screamed something to her.

She couldn't make it out over the din of battle and she continued to make her way towards him as he came at her in a dead run. Too late, she realized he'd been trying to warn her.

A large hand, with a grip like a steel vise, closed over her arm, dragging her to the side and she looked up, eyes wide and frightened, toward the man now holding her captive, expecting to find one of the monstrous soldiers. Instead, what she saw was a man whose appearance was almost angelic.

His skin was an olive shade, long, dark hair hung past his shoulders and his build was broad and muscular. He wore no armor, only a dress tunic and leggings, such as any aristocrat of the kingdom might. But, when his dark, nearly black eyes, met hers, she knew that here was no angel. Here, perhaps, was the Devil himself.

Strangely, despite the danger she was in, despite her conviction that she was about to die, despite every nerve and instinct in her body screaming for her to run, she found herself strangely drawn to this man.

When he raised his hand, she closed her eyes, expecting a blow. Instead, he lightly caressed her cheek with his fingertips and, when she looked at him again, he was smiling slightly. His hand trailed from her cheek, down the curve of her neck, to the amulet she wore on a long, golden chain.

Then he spoke, and his voice was almost hypnotic. "Diyka. The last. Child of the Sword. I give you this chance. The battle is over and you have lost. Freely join with me, rule by my side." His words came to her slowly, as if she were hearing them from under water, and it took a moment for her overtaxed mind to comprehend what he had said.

Before she could speak, with a cry of rage unlike any she had ever heard, her Champion flung himself at the strange warrior, knocking her from his grip as the two men set into battle. For a time, it looked as though the stranger would lose, that the Captain of the Guard, her betrothed, would best him.

But, at once, it was over, as quickly as it had begun. In one, swift move, the stranger thrust his sword through his opponents armor. She watched in mute horror as the blade ran him through, saw his eyes as he dropped to the floor, and she finally got her first, good, clear look at his face. Peter's face.

With a scream torn from her very soul, she ran to him, knelt down and cradled his head in her lap. The shadow of the victorious warrior fell over her and she knew, without a doubt this time, that her time was up. She had made her choice and he would not allow her to live. Even as she could not allow herself to live. There was too much at stake.

She raised her eyes in time to see him raise his own sword, preparing for the killing blow. Quickly, before he could take her life, she spoke the words she had been taught in the case of just such an event as this, the words that consigned her soul, the soul of the man she loved, the souls of her sisters - who lay dead in another chamber - the soul of the high priestess - her teacher - and the objects this invader sought, into the Matrix, scattering them to the four winds.

When the dream had finally released her, Kitty had awoken screaming, her stomach rebelling. She'd barely made it to the bathroom in time.

This dream hadn't been anything like any of the others she'd experienced, other than the abiding theme of death and horror. But it hadn't been about any event, or any place, that she recognized. She hadn't even recognized the name she'd been called by the strangely familiar man. The man who'd killed Peter.

If she let herself, she could still see his face as he died, could still feel his blood on her hands, blood he'd shed in her defense. It had been a different version of her dream of Cat and Peter in Limbo, she realized. The horror, grief, and pain had been the same. Only the setting had been different. But it applied to her, somehow. Her, and Peter.

Even as she'd screamed in horror and grief, waking sick and covered in a cold sweat, she'd still heard the words of the Soulsword, words she'd been hearing now for days.

Remember, therefore, from whence thou art fallen.

Kitty had no idea what it all meant, what she was supposed to remember, or whether it actually meant anything at all. All she knew was, between the dreams, the Soulsword, the Diaries, and her seemingly fruitless search for her father, she was slowly, but surely, losing her mind. And she was so tired of holding on. It would actually be a relief when it was all finally over.

She slipped on her earrings, took one last look in the mirror to check her appearance, then turned to leave. Almost as an afterthought, she turned back to the battered dresser, that matched all the other battered, abused furniture in the small hotel room, and picked up the Bloodstone Amulet, slipping the long chain over her head. It fell to rest just above her breasts and she found that she didn't mind the feel of it nearly as much as she might have thought. Wearing it was almost comforting.

Checking the clock, Kitty realized that, if she didn't leave now, she was going to be late. And she didn't think her contact was exactly the patient type.

Not bothering to check how she looked again, she exited the room into the dingy hallway and headed for the stairs at a brisk walk.

Her contact's earlier call had confirmed what she'd suspected. Her father was in Hammer Bay. He'd told her to meet him and he'd give her what he believed to be the address where Carmen Pryde was staying. She couldn't afford to miss this opportunity.

If she didn't find her father soon, she never would. She could feel her control, her will, slipping, little by little, day by day. Soon, it would slip away from her and the sword would take her.

Kitty was almost looking forward to it.

**********************************************************************************************************************

The bar, like the streets around it, was crowded and noisy, with loud rock music blaring, voices raised in celebration. Even during a normal weeknight, the party continued. The Legacy Virus was cured and Genosha was nearly giddy with relief. It reminded her somewhat of New Orleans at Mardi Gras.

Only, this elation had an edge to it. It was almost frantic in it's intensity. All over Hammer Bay, probably all over the entire island nation of Genosha, people were waiting for the other shoe to drop, almost holding their breath in anticipation of Magneto's next move.

Every day since the Legacy cure took effect, Genosha's ruler had come out of his spiral- towered palace and addressed the army of citizens gathered in Magda Square. As always, his speeches were stirring, heartfelt, inspiring, rousing every mutant on the island to his cause, readying them to fight his war.

And Kitty understood, perhaps as few others really could, that this time there would, indeed, be war. It was inevitable. Erik Lensherr had been given an army, almost overnight. He was not a man to let any such opportunity pass him by. It was his dream.

She wasn't sure how quickly it might come, but she suspected it would be more quickly than anyone was prepared for. The young ninja didn't want her father, her human father, on this island when the dogs of war were loosed.

The UN was jumpy enough, from all accounts, as they looked to this small nation off the coast of Africa and waited. At the first sign of trouble, they were likely to launch a pre-emptive strike, out of fear for every human life on the planet. Magneto was, inarguably, one of the most powerful mutants - and most skilled in the use of that power - on the face of the earth. With an army of mutants nearly sixteen million strong he would be unstoppable.

The rest of the world couldn't afford to ever let him step foot off Genoshan soil. Though Erik would know this, he would not let it stop him from trying. As of now, it was only a matter of hours before they saw, first hand, what might very well be the start of World War III.

That, Kitty told herself, was why she was here tonight, in this noisy, crowded, chaotic bar, with it's shabby décor, and even shabbier clientele. This was her last resort.

She had spent the first days here looking everywhere that she thought her father could possibly be, every one of the small, out of the way, clandestine human settlements on the island. She'd called in every favor, sent out feelers to every contact, done everything but walk up to the palace and ask Magneto himself if he knew of Carmen Pryde's whereabouts. But nothing had panned out.

This man was her last contact, her last hope, to locate her father. Kitty hadn't wanted to call him. He'd been a close friend of Pete's, they worked espionage together on many occasions, and she knew the man wouldn't be particularly glad to see her. But, once, he'd promised Pete to help Kitty if she ever needed it. It broke her heart to ask this man to keep that promise, but she had no other choice.

As she walked through the door, all eyes in the room turned her way, but she paid them no attention. Nor did she notice the appreciative male glances as she moved toward the bar, the way she was being looked up and down as if she were a side of beef on display at the butchers.

It took her only a moment to scan the room and find the person she was looking for. Without detour, she made her way to the back of the dim room and slid into the shadowy booth opposite her contact.

Their eyes met, and it was no trouble for Kitty to read the shadow of hostility there, even in the vague light of the bar. He was not happy to see her, any more than she was happy to be here. After a lengthy, uncomfortable, silence, it was Kitty who finally broke the ice.

"Hello, Pitman."

For a long moment, the slim, black man said nothing, simply continued his thorough study of her from beneath coal black lashes, with eyes nearly the same color.

The girl had changed. And not for the better, in his opinion.

He'd watched her as she entered the bar, as she'd practically stalked to his table, taking in her skin tight black jeans that rode so low on her hips that she couldn't possibly be wearing any kind of underwear, the black, sleeveless, cropped t-shirt that left most of her midriff exposed and plunged to such a low v-neck that the neckline was almost a waistline. Add to that the long, wide hoop earrings, the dark, makeup, and the four inch spike heels, and Pitman had barely recognized her.

This was not the same Kitty Pryde he'd met only a three years ago at a London bar with Pete Wisdom. That girl had been friendly, almost bubbly, with an air of innocence about her, despite what he knew to be formidable experience and fighting skills with various mutant super-hero teams. He had liked that girl. At least, until she'd broken his friend's heart.

Pitman did not like this girl. Correction. This woman. For that's what she was. There was nothing girlish about the creature sitting across from him, watching him with those intelligent, golden eyes that used to hold so much warmth and laughter. There was no laughter now, no warmth, and certainly no innocence. There was a hardness to her, a weariness that he normally saw only on long time field agents that had been on one mission too many.

It made him a little sad, to see it in someone so young. But there was also....something else. Something about her that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Something that told him that things with her were not quite right, not quite as they should be, aside from the obvious. Something that told him she was dangerous, in a way he had never encountered.

Suddenly, he was in a hurry to be out of there, away from her. He was uncomfortable with her sitting across from him, so close that all she had to do was reach across the booth and grab him by the throat. It was unlike him, a seasoned field operative, to be this nervous around anyone, especially a young woman of Kitty's size, but his feelings were his feelings and he was prone to listen to them. They'd kept him alive on more than one occasion.

"'Lo, Kitty." He cleared his throat, to keep his voice from coming out in a high pitched squeak, before he continued. "You've....changed."

In the dim light, Pitman could have almost sworn he saw her eyes flash red for a moment, but then it was gone and he told himself it had to be a trick of the light. Her mouth curved into something resembling a smile, but he felt more like he was being snarled at by a jungle predator.

"We all change. That's life."

"Yeah. I suppose it is."

"What can you tell me?" she asked without further preamble. No use dragging this out and making it any more painful and uncomfortable than it already was. It was no trouble for her to tell that he didn't want to be here, especially not with her.

Reaching a hand inside his coat pocket, Pitman removed a small, folded piece of paper and slid it across the table to her. Kitty took it without looking at it, immediately slipping it into her right jean pocket.

"That's the address your father is supposed to be at two days from now. He skipped out of witness protection, you know."

"Yeah." she replied with a nod. "I know."

"He came here to help in the Legacy camps, but there're people looking for him, even now. The Yakuza does not give up. Ever."

"I understand." And she did. She'd fought the Japanese Mafia when she was fourteen years old, because of her father's involvement. Had nearly lost her soul to Ogun because of that involvement. Kitty had no illusions about what she could be up against. She had beat them then, she could beat them now, if she had to.

"Since Legacy was cured, most of the humans on the island have gone into hiding, moving from place to place every few days. They're scared."

"They should be."

Pitman nodded his agreement, but the flat tone of her voice, the cold look in her eyes, sent a chill up his spine. What the hell had happened to this girl in the last couple of years to make her like this? It was almost....unnatural.

"Yes. Anyway, I couldn't get any info on where they are now, but my sources say he's with the group that'll be at this address in approximately 48 hours. It's a basement not far from Magda Square. It's the best I could do."

"It'll be enough." It would have to be. "Thanks."

"I did it for Pete." he told her flatly, letting some of his pent up hostility, just a little, flow into the words. He couldn't help it. Pete Wisdom had been his friend and, in their line of work, real friends were hard to come by. He couldn't help but blame this young woman for his friends death, even if it wasn't fair. "With this, I've kept my promise. Don't call me again."

"Fair enough." With that, Kitty slid back out of the booth and headed for the door, leaving the MI5 agent staring after her in true puzzlement. He was almost glad his old friend wasn't alive to see that girl like this. It would've broke his heart all over again.

The crowd seemed to have actually grown, if such a thing were possible, in the few minutes since Kitty had come in. Now, the small dance floor, as well as every other bit of free floor space, seemed to be crammed with dancers.

She was having a tough time squeezing through the throng of pressed bodies and was weighing whether or not it would be prudent to just phase through them all. This was Genosha, after all, and most, if not all, of the people in this bar were mutants as well, so it shouldn't exactly freak anyone out. Still, out of habit, she hesitated to use her powers in public.

Through sheer luck and persistence, Kitty managed to squeeze her way to within a few feet of the door before coming up against her next obstacle, which happened to be another person who seemed just as boxed in as she was.

"Pardon me. I''m afraid it's a little crowded in here." she offered by way of apology as she tried to maneuver around to the side, only to be stopped by a hand dropping to her shoulder and a cultured, softly accented voice that gave her immediate pause.

"Think nothing of it, my dear. It is quite crowded here. Though, in this case, it has proven more of an advantage than a disadvantage."

Kitty's head jerked up, and she looked directly into the face from her dream, or rather her nightmare. The same face, she suddenly realized, that she'd seen on the man who'd approached her in New York the day she'd left. Why hadn't she connected them before?

Her heart leapt in fear and the world seemed to actually tilt to one side for a moment. Her mind screamed for her to run, but her legs wouldn't move, and panic welled up in her, so strong that she nearly choked on it.

He was smiling down at her, this stranger who seemed to be everywhere that she was, and all she could do was stand frozen, staring up at him.

His lips curved into a smile, though it didn't reach anywhere near his eyes, as he studied her closely, his gaze seeming to linger either on her cleavage or the amulet she wore.

"What...what are you doing here?" she asked when she finally found her voice again. "Are you following me?"

"Ah, I am afraid you've found me out." His face suddenly became deadly serious and his grip oh her shoulder tightened. Kitty knew she should get out of there, get away from him, but she couldn't. Her body wasn't obeying any of her brain's commands. Fear was overwhelming her and she was afraid that, soon, she would be reduced to screaming hysterically and falling to the floor. "I have been searching the world for you."

"What do you mean? Why? What do you want with me?" Her voice was barely a whisper as she looked deeply into his dark, almost fathomless, eyes. She felt as if she could drown in his eyes if she looked long enough.

Slowly, his left arm came around her waist, pulling her even closer against his solid frame, as his right hand left her shoulder, his fingertips grazing gently along her cheek. He kept his gaze locked with hers and, suddenly, she was back inside her dream, staring into the eyes of a warrior who both frightened and attracted her.

"Katherine. Child of the Sword. You are the last."

Almost the exact same words he'd said to her in her dreams. Around Kitty, the edges of reality seemed to blur, going soft and insubstantial. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a part of her still screamed in fear and panic, screeching at her to leave, run away while she still could, but it was far away, becoming fainter and fainter, until she could barely hear it at all.

Why should she run from this man? What possible threat could he be to her when he touched her so gently, held her so tightly?

"I don't understand...."

"You will understand in time." He stroked her hair, a motion meant to calm and soothe and she leaned into his touch. It was familiar to her, almost as if she had known it before, in another life. "I am your destiny, Katherine. Just as this..." His hand slid across the amulet hanging at her neck, his fingertips just brushing the tops of her breasts as he did so. "...is your destiny as well. Come with me, and I will give you the answers that you seek."

"Who are you?" she breathed, unable to do more than gaze into his face, to press herself closer to his body.

Within her, there was a vague sense that this wasn't right. That something was very wrong. Another face swam before her minds eye, a handsome face with thick, black hair and sapphire blue eyes, but she shook it form her consciousness. It wasn't important. Nothing was important but here, now, this man and this moment.

"Forgive me." The man inclined his head slightly. "I am Vargas."

"Vargas." Kitty repeated the name, rolled it around on her tongue, tested it. "How did you find me?"

"We are connected." he replied, as if that were all the explanation that should ever be required.

She shook her head sluggishly, feeling almost as if she'd been drugged. The air seemed thick, the sounds around them muffled, as if she were hearing them through ears stuffed with cotton. The only solid thing, the only real thing, seemed to be this man. Vargas.

"How? How could we be connected? I don't know you..."

"Ah, but you do." He interrupted her, both of his hands now resting on her hips, just above the waistband of her jeans. "Look inside yourself. You will see."

Closing her eyes, Kitty did as he asked, swaying on her feet as she did so. But everything inside her was all jumbled up, confused. Even the Soulsword was there, glowing behind her eyes, trying to speak to her, but she couldn't understand what it was saying. There was only a vague, fuzzy impression of urgency, panic, but it couldn't touch her now. She was floating on a soft cloud, soothed by the feeling of freedom that seemed to emanate from this mysterious stranger.

"Where will you take me?"

If she'd had her eyes open, Kitty would have seen a very different smile briefly light the face before her. It was a smile full of triumph, greed, and malice. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared and, when she did open her eyes, all she saw was an expression of concern and affection.

"I will take you to my home. It is far from this place, but the journey will not take us long. Once we are there, all will become clear to you and you will understand your destiny. Our destiny. For it is glorious."

Kitty could only nod in agreement. Her tongue felt thick, too thick for her to speak, and the amulet around her neck was suddenly very heavy, so heavy that it was dragging her down, down into a dark, lightless place. She struggled against it, tried to keep the darkness from claiming her, but she was too weak. The darkness was winning.

Dimly, in that part of her brain that was still functioning rationally, Kitty realized that he was leading her outside, away from the other people. And she realized that this was not a desirable thing. But she just didn't have the strength, or the willpower, to care anymore.

Besides, he'd said he was her Destiny. If he was her Destiny, then she had to go along with him. Didn't she?

They stepped through the door, away from the noise and heat of the bar and into the cool, clear night. The cold, slightly moist air against her skin had the effect of a splash of cold water on her face, clearing her senses a little. It was enough to make her hesitate, to pull back when he would have propelled her forward.

"Wait....where are we going again?" she asked groggily, trying to gather her thoughts, but they were slippery as melting jello. Every time she thought she had a firm grip on them, they poured through her fingers, leaving her disoriented and vaguely uneasy.

Had she been paying attention to her companion at that point, Kitty would have seen the flash of irritation pass over his aristocratic features before he schooled them once again into a semblance of patience and fond regard. "We are going to my home. As we agreed upon."

This time, instead of blindly following his lead, Kitty frowned, shooting him a confused look. "But...but I can't. I can't go with you."

"And, why is that, my dear?" Vargas practically purred the question, his voice pitched low, husky, seducing, as he maneuvered her into the shadows at the side of the building. With consummate ease, he steered her close to the bar's outer walls, in the deep shadows of an ornamental tree, where no one could possibly see them. In her dazed, befuddled state, Kitty didn't protest, but went along meekly.

Even when he pressed her back against the rough wood of the building, trapping her between the hard, unyielding surface and his own body, she didn't object, simply continued to study him with that odd expression, a mixture of confusion and trepidation. He pressed his advantage, molding her body to his own, letting her feel the soft curves of her own body matched to the hard, flat planes of his.

She looked only slightly more disturbed by this new development, but he didn't let that bother him. Not in the least.

This was not as he had planned. His intention had been to remove her from this area completely. Her friends were here as well, looking for her, and he didn't want to risk them getting to her before he could bind her to him totally, in a way that no amount of strength, physical or mystical, could break.

But this one would not go willingly, even in her current state. She would not simply let him lead her away, the lamb to the slaughter. Even now, her instincts worked to protect her, to keep her out of danger.

It was of no consequence. Though it would not be his preference, he could complete the binding right here, right now. If necessary, he would take her in this very spot, against this wall, like a common whore. In her present state of mind, he doubted she would object and, even if she did, it wouldn't matter. There was no one she could call to for help, no one who would even hear her, much less come to her rescue.

Yes, better to do it now, get it over with. Then, there would be no danger of his plans being thwarted. Once done, it could not be undone and he could complete the last two bloodstones at his leisure.

Kitty looked around her, taking in her present situation, her entire being in turmoil. Part of her, the part that was still somewhat aware of what was happening, was screaming at her, at the top of it's voice, for her to escape, to run. Another part of her, a part she hadn't even been aware existed, was telling her to give in, making her want to give in, to do anything this man wanted.

Trapped as she was between him and the building, she could barely move and she could clearly feel the outline of his body, pressed tightly, almost painfully, against her own. When he leaned down, put his lips against her neck, Kitty shivered.

His lips were cold, almost like ice, as they slid across her skin. Why was he so cold? Why weren't his lips warm. Warm and soft like.....

But her train of thought abruptly left her. What had she been thinking? She couldn't remember, had no idea what the thoughts were that had fled her mind. His hands were moving over her body now, touching her, caressing her, and she moaned softly, one of her arms sliding up to his hair, holding his head to her throat.

She closed her eyes and whispered softly. "Peter."

As the name passed her lips, it was as if she'd been suddenly, violently, thrown head first into an ice cold lake. Her awareness, the panic, the fear, the instinct to fight what was happening to her, it all returned in an almost overwhelming rush.

Kitty blinked, clearing her eyes even as her mind cleared and, she realized, with a sick horror, what was going on. Sickened and furious at herself for what she was allowing this man to do, Kitty pushed at him trying to shove him away, but his body was like a brick wall and he wouldn't budge.

"Stop it! Get off of me!" She growled the words as she began to struggle with him. She should have been able to easily dislodge him, but her blows seemed to affect him not in the least. He simply stood his ground, grabbed her wrists, and pinned them to the wall on either side of her head.

His eyes, when he looked at her, pinned her just as effectively as her body, fire seeming to leap from their inky depths.

"You will not fight me." he hissed, all traces of courtesy and culture gone from his voice. "This time, you will not escape. My patience is at an end. You will come to me willingly or I will take you by force. It makes no difference. But I will have you. Too long have I been denied what is rightfully mine."

Fear swamped her at what he was suggesting, but it was quickly overwhelmed by an all consuming, burning rage. How dare he! Who the hell did he think he was? This man did not know who he was messing with.

"I'm not yours. I don't know who, or what, you are, but I'll die before I let you touch me again." She spat the words at him through gritted teeth and let her body do what came naturally, intending to phase out of his grasp and beat him to within an inch of his life.

To her horror, however, her body would not obey. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn't phase. Kitty's eyes went wide and her heart leapt into her throat as she realized that she was well and truly trapped. She couldn't defend herself against this man in any way.

What the hell is he?

At her obvious surprise, Vargas laughed, the sound low and cruel. "Surely, my dear, you did not think to escape me in that manner." He lowered his head, till they were nearly nose to nose, and she could feel his ice cold breath on her face. "You should have stayed where you were. You should have stayed with your Champion and called the sword when you had the chance. Now, you are mine."

This time, there was no mistake. His eyes flared red, flames leaping from their depths, and Kitty felt something within herself stir as well. A part of her, a small part now, but growing with every passing second, wanted this man, wanted what she knew was coming, even as the part that was still essentially Kitty recoiled in horror.

But she couldn't lie to herself, however much she might want to. She knew, if she could see her own reflection at the moment, her eyes would match his, would be glowing the same hellish, flame red, a reflection of her own corruption, her own evil. How they were connected, she didn't know, but she knew they were. In that, at least, he had been truthful.

Kitty knew, without being told, that he wanted the Soulsword. He wanted something else as well. She understood that instinctively as she gazed into those crimson eyes, something that only she could give him, something only she could control. If only she knew what it was. The knowledge was at the edge of her awareness, like a half remembered dream, just out of her reach, and she couldn't quite grasp it.

Apparently, Vargas took her sudden silence, her sudden stillness, as acceptance and he pressed himself even more tightly to her as his mouth swiftly covered her. It was all Kitty could do not to gag, but she fought the reflex and bit him instead, viciously, drawing blood before he jerked away.

With an oath, he struck her across the face, hard. Kitty saw the blow coming and braced for it, letting her head move with the impact to absorb some of the force, but still it stunned her momentarily. She slumped in his grasp, would have fallen if he still hadn't been holding her up, as she waited for the world to stop spinning.

As her head lolled to one side, he released one of her wrists and his hand came up to cup her chin, fingers biting painfully into her cheek and jaw as he forced her head around once more to face him, nearly lifting her from her feet. His face was a mask of fury as blood trickled slowly down his chin from the wound in his bottom lip.

"If you do that again, if you continue to fight me, I will do things to you that will make you wish you were never born." he hissed menacingly. "I have no intention of killing you. Not now. But I will make you wish for death."

He hit her again for emphasis and Kitty felt her consciousness begin to blur, the edges of the world going gray and smoky. She was about to pass out. Fighting it with everything she had in her, Kitty began to struggle against him once more, but she knew it was useless. Whoever, whatever, this man was, she couldn't physically fight him. He seemed immune to her efforts, treating her as no more than a fly, buzzing around his head.

She felt him shake her, command her to stop fighting, but she ignored him. Then, he pulled her forward and slammed her viscously against the wall, once, twice, hard enough to rattle her teeth, and the blackness nearly engulfed her. She fought it with all her might, struggling to remain conscious, knowing what would happen to her if she blacked out.

Then, she was sliding bonelessly down the wall of the building to sit on the slightly damp ground with a jarring thud. It took her pain fogged brain a little longer than it normally would to realize that Vargas was no longer pinning her in place, no longer manhandling her, no longer speaking to her.

Kitty landed on the ground with a soft groan and managed to pry her eyes open in time to see Vargas go stumbling backwards and hear an all too familiar voice growl out from the darkness.

"Get yer god damned hands offa her." There was the familiar "snickt" as Wolverine unsheathed his claws and crouched, ready to spring at Vargas, who stood his ground regarding the newcomer coldly and completely without fear. "If ya wanna fight with somebody, bub, why don't ya give me a try."

Seeming completely at ease and unthreatened, the tall man actually smiled at Logan, though the smile was cold and hard. "So, she has not left all of her champions behind after all. Pity."

Wolverine stared at the man standing a few feet from him, arms crossed over his chest, watching him so dispassionately, and recognized him for exactly what he was. A predator, a killer. But something else as well. His scent wasn't exactly human, and neither were those red, glowing eyes.

"Yeah, well, sorry ta disappoint ya, but Kit's got more'n one of us lookin' out fer her. Ya want her, ya gotta go through me first. I oughta kill ya fer what ya already done."

Vargas laughed, the harsh, brittle sound ringing through the streets as he regarded the man before him with disdain. "You are welcome to try, little man. But you have no idea what you are dealing with. Then again, you never did."

With a growl of pure, animal rage, Logan launched himself at the stranger, intending to cut him into ribbons, claws extended and ready for use. Before he could reach him, however, Vargas seemed to simply fade into the night, as a wisp of smoke fades from sight in the open air, his voice echoing from where he had been only a second before. Wolverine's claws sliced through nothing but thin air.

"We are not finished, Katherine."

At the base of the wall, Kitty still sat where she'd landed, arms wrapped around her legs, head down, rocking back and forth. In a second, Logan was kneeling beside her, trying to look her over, assess her for injuries.

"Kit, are ya all right? Are ya hurt?" He reached out to touch her, but she flinched away from him and he dropped his hand, a sick knot of fear lodging itself in his chest. Surely, he'd gotten here in time. Surely the man hadn't had time to..... NO! He refused to even consider the possibility.

"No, Logan." she moaned, still rocking herself and keeping her face buried in her knees. "I'm not all right. He didn't hurt me, not really.....but I'm so far from all right. I don't think I'll ever be all right again."

"If he didn't hurt ya, then what's wrong?" She was obviously overwrought, but at least she didn't seem to be badly injured and Logan breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Who th' hell was he? Or maybe I oughta ask, what was he?"

Kitty shook her head violently, long chestnut hair flying around her in disarray. "His name is Vargas. He's a monster.....And so am I."

She sounded so lost, so forlorn, that it broke Logan's heart. Ignoring her protests, he sat down on the ground beside her, gathering her into his arms and trying to pull her to him. To his surprise, she jerked violently away from him. Like a shot, she was standing, putting distance between them, keeping her back to him.

"DON"T TOUCH ME!" Kitty practically screamed it out, though she was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe now. "For the love of God, Logan, get away from me. You don't know...."

"What don't I know, Kit?" he asked quietly, coming up behind her, but not trying to touch her again. She was nearly hysterical and he needed to get her calmed down, find out what had happened, why she hadn't fought or phased herself away. "That ya made a mistake? Tell me what happened. Ya know I'll understand, whatever it is. It's not yer fault that...whatever the hell he was....tried ta take advantage of ya."

She stood there for so long, so quietly, that he began to wonder if she would speak again. Finally, after a long silence, she did.

"I couldn't fight him. I couldn't even phase away." she whispered quietly, brokenly. Had it not been for his enhanced senses, he doubted he would have even heard her. "And...oh, Logan...part of me didn't even want to. Part of me wanted what he was going to do. Part of me wants to become what he is."

Her statement didn't shock him. Logan had expected something like this, though the man, or whatever that creature was, had been a surprise. It only served to confirm that she need help, that she couldn't handle this alone. "Kitty, we know what's goin' on with that damned Soulsword. Betsy told us. Come back with me. We can all fight this thing together." He tried to lay a hand on her shoulder but, again, she jerked away, still not allowing him to see her face.

"It doesn't matter anymore. You can't help me. It's too late...."

"Pun'kin, it's never too late. Not as long as ya've got friends here willin' ta help ya." This time, he laid his hand on her arm and, instead of jerking away from him, Kitty whirled to face him. And what he saw made him take an involuntary step back from her.

"Still think you can save me, old man?" Kitty asked, her voice cold now, hollow, her eyes blazing a fiery, demonic red. He could see the flames literally flickering there. "From this?" She raised on hand, indicating her eyes. "Or this?"

As she asked the last question, she closed her eyes briefly, concentrated, and the Soulsword suddenly appeared beside her, glowing a bright, brilliant white in the dim lighting of the street, casting almost a luminescent glow around Kitty herself.

"This is how close I am, Logan. It never leaves me now. It's always here, just out of sight, in my mind, in my dreams. It's here when I wake up in the morning and when I go to bed at night. All I have left to do is just reach out and take it."

Her hand came up, reaching toward the sword and Logan lunged forward, grabbing her arm before her hand could make contact.

"Kitty, I can't let ya do that." Horrified at how far this had gone, and how quickly, Wolverine tried to think of what to say, what to do, to convince her to let them help her. If she wouldn't accept some help, and soon, he knew that it would be too late. He wasn't prepared to lose her.

She didn't resist as he lowered her arm back to her side and slowly, as he watched, the Soulsword faded back into the night as if it had never been.

"I know." Dropping her head, Kitty closed her eyes again, praying for strength she knew she no longer possessed. "Neither can I. I have to hold out for two more days. Two days. That's all." She raised her head once more, looking him dead in the face, her eyes still glowing, though not as brightly now. "Then, I can just let go. I can't stop it, Logan, and nobody can stop it for me. You can't help me, though I appreciate the thought."

She took a step back from him, trying to give him at least a small smile, but the effect was ruined by the tears streaming down her face. "I learned something tonight. I learned that you can't fight fate. You can't fight your Destiny. It always wins in the end."

Before he could stop her, she turned, running away from him as swiftly as her legs would carry her. He started to follow, and she turned, calling back to him over her shoulder. "If you love me, Logan, don't follow me and don't look for me again. And, if we do happen to meet someday, down the road, I'll expect you to keep your promise."

Feeling as if he were being torn in two, Wolverine watched her disappear from sight down the long, dark street. He followed close behind her still, unwilling to let her go, but he lost her around a corner. Undoubtedly, she had phased herself into the ground, or one of the nearby buildings, but he couldn't tell which one. She left no scent when she was phased.

Unwilling to give up, the feral mutant spent the rest of the night trying to track her, trying to pick up her scent, but without any luck. He wanted to find her, wanted to force her to let them help, but, inside he knew it was no use. He'd seen what she was becoming, had known as soon as he saw the Soulsword, called up so easily, with no more than a thought on her part, that Kitty was already lost.

All that was left now was the wait.

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To all of my reviewers: I could not possibly have gotten this far without you guys. Thanks so much for your support.

Caliente: Hey, Whoa works for me :) Yes, much confusion in chapter 13, but I figured that was as it should be when you suddenly wake up to the kind of morning they were having. You've got the two girl's identities down pat. As for the Spanish guy, yes and no. Confusing, I know, but it will all become clear in time. You'll really hate him a lot by then. Not much of a Neal fan here, either and we won't be seeing him much more. As for Kurt and Amanda hooking up, well, you should have your answer in this chapter. How could I possibly keep them apart? They've been in love forever. Yes, the sibling thing is a little weird, but at least he's not a Summers. Rogue is definitely having a lot thrown at her, and it's only going to get stranger. We will definitely be seeing Remy, but probably not until chapter 16. I have a surprise in store for him and Rogue. (grins and cackles evilly.) Hadn't said until this chapter where Peter was going, but now you know. And Wolvie is a doll, isn't he? Just love him.

Kirayoshi: Well, of course. Everyone has to work for their happy ending. At least I'm not going to string them out for years and then kill one of them like Marvel did. I think everyone has pretty much figured out the two female mystery figures by now and you've definitely got them right. The villian, who you saw in this chapter is called Vargas, is going to be my sort of all purpose evil guy and he has some surprises in store for everyone before it's over. We will have the definitive answer to the question: Is it the Soulsword or the Amulet? by the end of chapter 16, but I think you can see where it's headed from what happened here. Peter is definitely going to try to move on with his life, but it won't be easy. In reality, he'll probably only have a few days before all heck rips loose again and the dead begin to rise. Or at least the presumed dead. As you saw, Logan already found Kitty once, and it wasn't pretty. But you know he's not ready to give up yet. And keep your eyes peeled in the next chapter or two for dragon sightings, hopefully in a way no one is going to expect.

Araya-Michiru: No, our Amanda doesn't really have anything much in common with the Evo Amanda, except Kurt, of course. They might have ended up with more in common if Evo hadn't been canceled, but now we'll never know. In the comics, Kurt was abandoned by his mother and raised by Margali Szardos, a gypsy circus performer. He and Amanda (whose real name is Jimaine Szardos) were raised together and they fell in love. But, when Kurt left the circus, Margali kept Jimaine from following him. She showed up years later as the stewardess Amanda Sefton and got back into Kurt's life not long after he joined the X-Men. They've been together, off and on, ever since. She's a very neat character, part stewardess, part sorceress, reluctant superhero, and with a no-nonsense attitude, love of life, and a great sense of humor. Now that we know where Peter is, is it where you thought? Genosha, as you saw from this chapter, is a sort of dark place right now and it won't get much better anytime soon. And, confuzzled is definitely a legitimate word, no matter what my spell checker says. There are some states of mind that only confuzzled can describe.

T.A. Pixiestix: Making perfect sense to me. Thanks. The confusion will lift, slowly but surely, and don't worry, I know how you feel about Kitty and the Soulsword. There are times when I want to just chuck it all, have her grab hold of it, and get on with the story, but it wouldn't be nearly as much fun then, so I try to restrain myself. Though we are coming much closer to the time for that to happen. I'm glad you didn't think chapter 13 was boring. I was sort of worried about that, what with all the dialogue, but it had to be done to move the story along and I really couldn't find any way around it. Believe me, I tried. A lot. Of everything, group dialogue is what I'm the very worst at writing. And, please, don't worry about rambling or boring me. I am the Queen of lengthy writing, in case you haven't noticed. Sorry about the cookies. I don't have any either, or I'd send you one.

*B(): Glad the little longer wait while I went into X-Treme angst mode over chapter 13 wasn't a put off. I'm glad, since you're fairly new to the X-Men comic world, that things are making sense for you. I've been kinda worried about that, considering this whole Soulsword, Legacy, Destiny, alternate dimensional fiasco encompasses about 25 years of X-Men history. I'm trying not to assume that everyone out there knows everything there is to know about X-Men history. God knows, I sure don't. I found out exactly how much I didn't know when I started this. So, if I go off the deep end with stuff you've never heard of, stop me. Please. The Essential X-Men books are great for getting a sense of all that history and, if you happen to come across any, so are the X-Men Classic comics. They're reprints of the older books from the 70's and 80's without having to mortgage your house to get them.

Lia Fail: I'm glad you liked the title for chapter 13. It was a last minute decision. I had originally picked another title for it, but then I happened to pick up my X-Men #110 (Yes mine has many tear stains too. I can barely look at the cover without bawling.) and the title just jumped out at me. I thought it would be very ironic, considering that it's Peter who's leaving the X-Men because Kitty's gone, instead of the other way around. But, I realized something as I was re-reading that comic. In the part where Kitty is remembering Illyana's death and she goes out to the pool, to find Peter sitting there in his swim trunks with a towel around his neck, there is something very wrong. They show Peter in human form. At the time, because of a head injury, he was stuck in his metal form and couldn't change back. That didn't change until the Exaclibur Fatal Attractions story line several months later. It has absolutely no bearing on this story and doesn't change the fact that One Tin Soldier... was a great issue. Just my strange, random, observation for no particular reason. I thought it was interesting. And, yes, Peter as the champion was the only person that made sense. Not only can he turn to organic steel, which repels magic, but he was the only one of the X-Men not corrupted by the demonic influences during inferno. There was also something that the demon, N'astirh, said about him during Inferno that I'll be using later. I love Amanda. We'll be seeing more of her, as you saw in this chapter. I love Logan, too. Storm, I sometimes have problems with. I love her, but it's hard to write her and keep that regal, Ororo attitude without making her too cold and bitchy. I'm trying to keep an even keel with her, so I'm glad you think it's working.

CaptJesus: You have my heartfelt sympathy regarding your ISP. The good Lord knows that AOL ain't no picnic sometimes, so I can definitely relate. I'm thrilled that you like the character portrayals. It's very important to me to stay true to that. Like you said, Marvel used to care about that, but now I think they just want more outrageous story lines, sexier costumes, and stranger mutants in order to sell books. It truly saddens me. It's definitely that there are years of back history that go with this story. I know this because my den is now covered in X-Men comics from the last 25 years or so. But, it's really been a joy so far to write this because I get revisit all my favorite comics and my favorite characters. I'm glad you're enjoying it too, and I'm really glad it's reconnected you with some of your favorites from the past. The Magik series was a favorite of mine too, as was Illyana Rasputin. I still miss her. If I've helped you, even in a small way, rediscover some of that, then the work I'm putting into this is more than worth it. As for sneaky, wellll....I have been known to be a little sneaky,so you never know what might be coming next.

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Coming Soon: We'll be in Genosha for the next two chapters or so. In chapter 15, we're going to pay an old friend, and an old enemy, a visit and things in Genosha will heat up, as war looms, Logan, Kurt, and Amanda continue their search for Kitty, and this mystery continues to unfold.

If you're reading, I'd love your review. Reviews are necessary to life.

A/N: The four or so lines of conversation between Kitty and Rachel are from Excalibur #75.