A/N; Thank-you to all the reviewers and a special thanks goes to Lita of
Jupiter for helping me with some Brazilian-Portuguese translation. There
are a number of native Amerindian words used in this chapter. The words
come from the vocabulary of various Amazonian tribes such as the Xerente,
Asurini, Bakairi, Buhagana and the Serente.
# = Telepathic contact.
Brazilian-Portuguese phrases;
A Cidade do Vulcão= The City of the Volcano
Fogo do Mau= Fire of Evil
Chapter.10.
Remy swallowed down deeply, and contrary to every feeling that was running through Ororo's mind and body at this moment, he had a grin on his lips, "It alrigh' petit." He informed her with slight breathlessness; a sense of relief palpable within his voice as he took hold of the dart firmly and yanked it out with some effort. "Urrr--ah!"
"But..." Ororo lips trembled and her copper tinted coca skin turned positively ashen.
"Fuck!---dey always dere when I need dem." He quipped as he reached into the pocket where the presumably poisoned arrow had hit, impacting so deep. As he withdrew his hand, out came the deck of cards they'd been playing with last night; a deep, dark pin-sized whole extending through into at least half of the pack.
Ororo swiftly regained her wits, swallowing the welt of saliva that was full of the taste of panic. "Leave the sheet." She told him sternly as she grabbed her bag from just inside the shelter and then pulled his out too. "We need to get out of here---and now."
"Too righ'." Remy agreed quickly with a sly glance to the side, taking his pack from her and slinging it on. He may have kept his cool veneer but his heart was racing in his chest, but that was a good thing as far as he was concerned---the thrill of action like 'Peruvian Marching Powder' to an addict. Taking only the essentials the pair rounded the tree putting themselves out of the line of fire. They crouched at its foot for a moment, again checking the immediate area about them---but nothing. Then a rustling to their left---brief but distinct and clear.
"Can you see anything?" Ororo whispered, dipping her head and leaning forwards slightly from the balls of her feet, adopting the pose of an eagle scanning for prey. This was the fight with the New York Guild all over again, except this time there was some respect for their opponents and their skills.
"Non." Remy responded equally quietly.
"We have to draw them out." She said matter-of-factly after a period of fruitless searching in complete silence; the intensity as thick as the atmosphere. "There is no way we are going to get away from here whilst we can not see our opponent."
"Oui." He answered, again monosyllabic. Moving forwards slowly he placed his hands on the ground, fingers extended vertically like a runner about to burst from the starting post. "'Ow 'bout yo' try an' conjure up a li'll mist? At best it migh' bring dem closer in---at wors' it'll cover our escape."
"I will try." Ororo stated, realising it was possibly the only option open to them here. They were clearly up against a more-or-less invisible foe that knew the forest so well that they could effectively become apart of it- --only revealing themselves if and when they wanted. Otherwise they would only have to sit and wait---picking the pair off with more darts at their leisure. Storm began to focus her mind, closing her eyes to all around her as her psionic powers came into play. She found it much easier to summon a mild mist than she'd thought; simply pulling it down from the layer it created over the top of the canopy.
Remy was always mesmerised by the sheer beauty of it, even in these circumstances, as the brittle white cloak descended gracefully to the forest floor, coating everything about it with a layer that seemed like a light frosting. He looked over to her at his side; her eyes open now, swirling with a pearl-like exquisiteness.
"Now wha'?"
"We wait." Once the mist was there her job was effectively done and her eyes regained their sapphire quality, the pale swirls receding back to the edges of her orbs. "On my mark---we make our move." All the possibilities on how they could defend themselves ran through her mental list of battle plans and strategy. They were facing indigenous tribe people here, who were only acting out of a need to defend their territories from perceived intruders---that automatically precluded any further possibility of using her powers to fend them off---even minor use. She didn't feel she had the right; they were only protecting what was theirs after all.
The distinct sound of rustling came again, flowing from several directions at once but this time a soft muttering of communication was carried to their ears on the back of it. Ororo held on for a little while longer, waiting the vital seconds before issuing the order to Remy to move. Everything around her became distilled---broken down into its requisite parts. Sound, sight and smell---all carrying their own significance, magnified tenfold in the moments before action.
"Move!" She said low and harsh as she started forwards quickly and with her movement out came several figures from the growth and mist. Dark like burnt umber, daubed with slashes of red and black about naked torsos and exposed arms. Skirts of dry, brittle reeds hung from their waists, the legs and feet beneath bare. As Remy and Ororo raced down the bank from the tree, it became obvious fairly soon that they were surrounded---all paths blocked to them. Confrontation was not desired but appeared to be unavoidable.
"What yo' t'ink we should do chère?" They had their backs to one another, moving in a mutual kind of circle as more bodies emerged from Ororo's false covering---its intent pointless on those who knew this world blind.
"We do what we must to get us out of here," she let a weak breeze clear the mist, although some remained where it was, "but we must try not to harm them...if we can avoid it."
"Yo' de boss 'Roro." Remy quipped as he reached for his unarmed Bo staff, tucked into the long pocket that ran the length of his left thigh. He wasn't at all convinced that they'd be able to exit this situation successfully without drawing at least some blood. With his customary flick and the zing of metal shooting out and clicking into place with a clack, his weapon was primed and ready for use.
Ororo surveyed the shift in the situation as more bodies emerged; the beginnings of short, curt communications bouncing around the forest floor...
"Ömö...Apuitime...tôtô...yolocan..." All of the air and distinct from their corporeal bodies; the words muttered in apprehensive but not quite fearful gasps.
The first move was theirs. A spear came in from the left, narrowly missing Storm by a hairs breadth, exploding into the mossy incline behind them with a pronounced *splut!*. Then one came in from Remy's left, leaving him to deflect it expertly with his Bo; the sharpened point of the light coloured length of wood splintering on contact.
"Casiri ie-áp...apuitime camangári diabo..." On uttering those words a soaring young tribes man made a bee-line for Ororo; his spear raised, his coffee toned face set in a veneer of consummate determination. As he neared she kicked at the spear, knocking it from its intended course but not quite out of the man's hand. She used her momentum to spin around him and deliver a hard blow to the small of his back, knocking him to the ground without too much effort.
All the time Remy had his eye on the other tribe's men, two of whom had held back from the rest coming in, perched on the lower branches of a nearby tree as they loaded their blow pipes. The older one was primed and aimed before the other; drawing in a deep breath before puffing on the end of the hollowed out straight branch held securely in both hands. The feather tailed dart was headed straight for Ororo as she rebalanced herself from deflecting her attacker. It didn't take Gambit more than a microsecond to hurl himself with a certain amount of style into its path, his staff out and ready to fend it off as he had the spear that came his way moments earlier.
But once he had done that he found the battle had come to him; one from the left, one from the right and one directly in front.
"Amore tu ömö!" One of them cried---Remy couldn't tell which. "Diadia uato ie-réa kamangari!"
Only the one at his front was armed with a spear the other two had crudely fashioned blades at their disposal. Riding himself of his cumbersome rucksack, Remy agilely took out the man with the spear first; unlike Ororo, succeeding in riding his attacker of his weapon with a well-placed strike of his foot. His only problem remained now in the two with the blades that were still advancing on him and by the time he had disposed of the spear- bearer, were practically on top of him.
*CLINK---CLASH!* Two strikes avoided with cunning skill and two deft twists of his arsenal---the sparks literally flying as the metals came into fast contact. Letting the staff spin back around with its own motion it cracked at the back of the man's head on Remy's right-hand side, hard enough to have him seeing stars but no lasting damage. That gave Remy a little leeway then to attend to his other foe, letting him step back and create some distance in which to fight. He only had a quick respite in which to glance over and see how Ororo was holding up. But as always, she was doing just fine.
Well, she was doing fine until she was taken by surprise from behind. No sooner had she slipped her pack off to give her better agility than arms with the strength of steel locked around her chest; binding her tightly. She only had a moment to strain against this attacker when a third blade- bearer rushed towards her from the mask of trees, his sword raised. Pushing her back into the chest of her captor, Ororo succeeded in launching her legs from the ground and just as the man with the sword was about to deliver his blow she caught him underneath his chin; his mouth promptly slamming shut with a snapping sound as it filled swiftly with salty blood. As he collapsed to the ground all that was left was for Storm to release herself from the arms of the other man. She did so by suddenly throwing her weight forwards, taking her attacker by surprise as he too rocked forwards with frightening force, leading the pair to literally flip over.
As they landed on the marshy floor with a muted splash in the saturated sponge of a ground, Ororo made sure that she came down on top of him as hard as she could---winding him instantly. But just to make sure as she pulled herself up from his suddenly limp hold she rammed her elbow into his ribs on the right flank of his body, leading him to issue a shocked and strangled cry. Rather unskilled and perhaps a little crude but the streets of Cairo had taught her to fight dirty when needs be.
"I t'ink it time we made a sharp exit girl---an' now!" Remy shouted as he smashed the flat of his palm into the face of the man he was currently holding at arms length. But that didn't quite stop the young man, his black irises fixed clearly and his set mouth stained with a thin trickle of scarlet from his nose, in his determination to get to the intruder. He still had his blade, with its carved arching handle, clasped in his right hand; the blue veins on its back standing out in stark relief with the tension of his grip as Gambit held it tightly at the wrist to stop him moving it.
Remy was forced to make a quick decision on what to do. He didn't want to hurt him anymore than was necessary but he was being left with little choice here. Taking his other hand onto the young man's right arm he gripped it a little way away from where his other hand was. With a deft movement he twisted his hands around in opposite directions from one another. There was a clean noise, not so much a snap as a click, quickly followed by the man's scream of agony; his face crumbling as he fell away from Remy and cradled his broken wrist to him, dropping his blade to the ground.
"Remy!" He spun around, his eyes searching fro her quickly through the green. She was stood about fifty yards away from him, blocking herself from sight at the side of a tree. "Come on---we need do them no more harm. I think there is a route down here that is clear."
"Absolument!" Remy exclaimed darkly as he started over to her, swiftly lifting up his rucksack from the floor as he passed through the sparse scatter of injured men. As he got up to where Ororo was, he spared a quick look behind him. What tribe's men were still left standing, primarily the ones with the blow-pipes, had taken it upon themselves to see to their injured brothers rather than take off after their enemy. "I don' t'ink dey gonna be followin' any time soon chère---so let's shoot it. We migh' be able t' lose dem if we quick enough."
Neither needed to be told twice as they disappeared off down an opening in the undergrowth that sloped down into a dark natural path. They had no idea where they were going or if it was putting them drastically off-course but that was the least of their concerns right now as the mournful cries of those they'd left behind receded into the background; muffled and lost amongst the sounds of the living breathing forest around them.
* * *
Many hours and many miles away...
Remy sat down on the outcrop of a boulder and unhooked his canteen. Taking the top off quickly he practically poured the cool, clear liquid down his throat; his head tipped right back to let it slip down easily. Then, without breaking the constant flow of the refreshing water he moved it from his mouth so that it dowsed over his heat flushed face and then over his hair. They had more than enough to spare as there had been another rainstorm at about three in the afternoon that had lasted for up to two hours. But they hadn't stopped in the face of it, preferring to push on, not sure as to whether the tribe that had attacked them had regrouped and picked up their trail. They may have been on their tail for most of the day for all they knew so it was safer to just keep on moving. But now they had come to a stop---partly trough physical exhaustion but mainly because they were now faced with a rather large spoke in their wheels; a sheer cliff face.
"I could at least try Remy." Ororo said as she craned her neck backwards to gaze up to the summit that could have been almost three hundred feet tall--- maybe more maybe less. Whatever it was, it was certainly a sticking point because according to their map---both of them---it didn't even exist.
"Non," Remy told her in no uncertain terms, "I can see 'ow tried yo' are girl---I don' wan' yo' t' risk it." He hopped down agilely from the rock he'd been perched on, taking another swig from his canteen as he walked over to her side. Swiftly he glanced up at where she was looking, a large patch of golden shaded, raw sienna sky showing through an oval gap at the top of the craggy light grey cliff, and the cusp of the trees behind them, before taking his eyes back down to her. The light cast down onto her upturned face, bathing smooth refined features with an aureole; face and hair glistening with the after-thought of the last rain-shower. He wanted to say something to her so much, but now didn't really seem to be the time...besides, what would he say?
"Using my powers in short blasts is enough for me to manage. I could just--- ."
"No way ho-say, 'Batgirl'." He joked, cutting across her. There was no way he was going to let her try and fight to create a wind current strong enough to elevate them both to the top---it was clear she wasn't up to it right now. Even the small amounts of manipulation she'd used in their fight against the mystery tribe had taken quite a lot out of her. She'd tried to hide it of course but Remy could see it.
"What do you suggest then?" She asked with a slight laugh, looking over at him
Remy was pulled from the daydream state he'd briefly slipped into, turning quickly from her before blue orbs fell upon him. He kept his neck stiff and unmoving as he gazed ahead of him; his eyes concentrating on the textured groves of hard and soft greys with toughs of ragged bush growing from it here and there, alcoves of birds nests dotted about too. Just from the corner he could see her face turned towards him, her gaze resolute and unaffected. He tried to shift his thoughts to the problem they now faced and ignore it. "We coul' climb."
"And if we should fall?"
"Den---an' only den---yo' coul' catch us." He said quickly, finally turning to face her and intently so.
Ororo's breath caught in her throat for a moment, her heart stilled. Never once did she break from his gaze. "Yes---if I needed to...I would always be there to catch us." A moment of stasis passed in the bright auroras from above. "And what about you?"
"I'd be dere too." Remy said firmly, his face a mask of seriousness. His right hand, the one closest to her reached up; the movement quick but not startling. It slowed only when it came close to her, held near to the skin of her cheek. Then he ran his fingers, three together, bent at the calloused knuckle above the cut of his gloves, along it; that defined bone beneath skin like satin, solid and sure. Hearts quickened at the touch, but no words spoken. None were needed...
First Ororo's eyes fell from Remy and then she stepped away, her arms wrapping about herself in a self-affirming hug. Protective. She meandered down the short dip towards the cliff face; stood before them like an unmoveable Goliath. This was too much to contemplate right now---there were things that she was beginning to feel that she couldn't admit to herself never mind Remy. Though he seemed to be suffering from the same dilemma--- that only served to make things complicated still for it meant that they couldn't ignore it, even if they'd wanted to. She was used to chaos in her life, she could deal with that, the relative simplicity of fighting for what was good and true, being an X-Man made that a certain. One could barely go through a day without it. But the other thing she suffered from--- they all suffered from---was a certain amount of emotional detachment. Get any of us on a Freudian's couch, she thought wryly, and they would have a field day. Remy was one of the few safe places for her---emotionally---but now that was all changing and she didn't know how to stop it.
"I know dis ain't de bes' time or place bu'...we can't go on avoidin' dis fo'evah 'Roro."
Storm turned back to face him. She didn't want to but his admission held such a tender defeat that she couldn't bare not to. "Not now Remy, please..."
# Storm! # The sound of the voice shook her, literally, making her stumble back with its amplified intrusion, her back against the cliff; the cultured tone rattling around her skull.
"Professor." Ororo replied calmly, out loud for Remy's benefit. "You found us then."
#Not without some difficulty, my dear.# He told her with held back irritation. #It was Jean who found you---last night. But you were sleeping.# By now Charles had extended his communication to Remy also; the Cajun clearing a way for him through his psychic defences that still remained formidably strong despite the absence of his powers. Hank had been interested in studying this particular phenomenon, as it had always been assumed that the inability of telepaths to penetrate his mind was directly linked to his bio-kinetic signature. But Remy had told him, in no uncertain terms, where he could stick his probes and test tubes. Rather unsurprisingly, Hank hadn't pushed the matter further than that.
#I am sorry that we failed to contact you Charles---but we had other things to contend with.# Ororo said apologetically, coming back up close to where Remy was stood; nonchalantly drinking from his canteen again, suddenly acting like he didn't have a care in the world.
# I appreciate that, but surely a simple telephone call could not have been beyond you.# He said, trying not to sound too stern. # The mini X-jet does have e-mail facilities, you know? #
Ororo heard Remy sigh; just seeing the shake of his head from the corner of her eye. But she didn't turn to look at him as the atmosphere just ahead of them became distorted, like holographic fuzz. After a few seconds and image of the top half of the Professor's body appeared to them; a psychic projection from thousands of miles away. "We would have contacted you," she said to the image as if he were stood right before her in the physical person, "But it is fair to say we have had are reasons for not doing so."
"No doubt connected in someway to what Remy's father has asked of you?"
"Non," Remy finally spoke up, coming forwards so that he was stood face to face with Xavier's facsimile. "It wuzn't mah Poppa---well non directly---it wuz de uddah Guild's, mon ami."
"Oh?"
"Don' worry homme---I'll 'ave 'Roro back safe an' soun' befo'e de week's out."
"There is no need for this to become confrontational Remy," Xavier warned, not happy with Gambit's tone. "We were simply concerned about your whereabouts. Jean and I became worried when our repeated searches failed to locate you."
"And we are sorry for that Charles," Ororo said, "But you know we are safe now---though I can not tell you how much longer we shall be away from the school. The task has turned out to be more involving than we had hoped."
"What task?" That wasn't the Professor's voice---it was distinctly feminine. The air at the side of Xavier's image began to blur and distort as a projection of a pretty redhead came into being.
"Hello Jean."
"Hey Ororo---what task?" She repeated.
"We've been charged to retrieve something for the Guild." Ororo replied; completely non-committal, unrevealing. She didn't want to give Charles or Remy any ammunition to pick-up where they'd left off in his office.
"Is that all you're going to give us?" Jean asked lightly, "Come on 'Ro--- since when couldn't you tell us anything? I'm your best friend, if you two are in any trouble, you know we'd be there in a heartbeat."
Ororo opened her mouth to reply, but Remy cut across her. "We be fine Jean," He told her earnestly, any left over antagonism gone now. He turned briefly to Ororo, "We may as well tell 'em," facing back to the projections of his X-colleagues, he said, "Some o' de Guild's found a map---an ol' map-- -showin' de location o' a relic they been wantin' t' git dheir hands on since fo'evah. I jus' 'appen t' be de t'ief dey wan'ed fo' de job."
"They wanted you?" Charles asked sceptically. To which Remy simply made a face and shrugged his shoulders to show that he too found it highly suspect but, he was asked to do it, so he was doing it. Just this one last time... "So, what is this relic?"
"It's called de Carcoccia---don' know much 'bout it. Jus' myths I 'eard growin' up." He admitted. "Dere 'ave been tails o' it in all de Guild's---a powerful object, but no-one seems t' know what exactly dis---power---is. An' f dey do, dey ain't been obligin' enough t' let Remy know." He gave a dry laugh, "Fo' all we know we be out 'ere in de middle of nowhere, chasin' a goddamn ghost."
"Not to mention being chased ourselves." Ororo added caustically.
"What was that?"
"Nuhddin' chère," Remy grinned, "Jus' a bit o' a run-in wit' some o' de locals."
"Locals?" Jean raised an eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest.
"It does not matter Jean," Ororo assured her, "Honestly---it was nothing of importance."
"As long as you are both okay?" The Professor inquired, looking at them both in turn. "Should you need any help---if you find yourself in dire- straits, do not hesitate to contact us. Your general co-ordinates have been programmed into Cerebra---she will be capable of picking up the psychic residue of any distress signals you put out into the atmosphere, should either of us," He gestured towards Jean, "fail to pick them up."
"Thank-you Charles." Ororo said kindly, "We appreciate it...we really do."
Charles nodded, giving one of his rare smiles, "Well, be careful...my X- Men." As the last words faded from the atmosphere so did the Professor's image; shimmering and then breaking apart into a mist-like vapour that transcended into the air.
"Good luck---the both of you." Jean offered before her likeness too vanished into the sultry atmosphere. But her communication was not gone as Ororo felt her voice resonate around her head. #What's going on 'Ro?#
Before she answered Storm glanced at Remy, ascertaining quickly that this communication was for her mind only. #What do you mean?#
Jean's laugh rattled and rolled around Ororo's skull like a marble set loose in a ceramic pot. #Don't give me that---I am psychic you know and it doesn't take a strong one to pick up on the amount of tension I'm gettin' from down there.#
#Jean, I have no idea---#
#'Ro, it's as thick as one of your fogs. Pea Soup! # Jean insisted, #I even picked up on it last night, while you were sleeping. God, I could almost taste it!#
Ororo shook her head and tried to brush it off, #Whatever you were sticking your nose into last night, my friend, was none of your concern. Besides, I still do not know what you are talking about.# The warning was friendly enough.
#Now 'Ro, sweetie, you know you're a terrible liar and I don't need to be telepathic to pick that up either---it's kind of a best friend thing.# If Jean hadn't been sure last night or during their initial contact, then she was now. She'd definitely picked up on something potent, but she couldn't put her finger on it. A waft, like perfume that lingers in a room once the wearer has gone, had crowded around the pair when she had finally located them and found them sleeping. It was like an aura almost, something that on occasion her Phoenix Force that nestled deep within her being let her witness. Every now and then she could see, smell and even taste the residue of people's emotions, if they were being emitted into the atmosphere strongly enough. That's what she saw last night; a tension that she'd never experienced between Gambit and Storm, coating the pair like a cocoon as they lay together, against each other in the suffocating dark of the forest night. But as her mind had skirted around it for a while, testing it almost like one would feel a loaf of bread for freshness, she realised it wasn't a negative aura at all as she'd first suspected. It was one...poignant. That was all she could think of to describe it. Poignant. #What's going on with you two?#
Ororo pursed her lips and tried to clear her mind of any stray thoughts that might betray her. But just as she felt her grip on them loosening, threatening to let them free for Jean to read at her leisure, Remy inadvertently came to her rescue.
"'Ro!" She span round to see him down by the cliff face, peering into something that was currently blocked from her view. "Come look at dis." He beckoned her with a wave of his hand without ever turning to face her.
#Sorry Jean---got to go.#
#But---#
#Goodbye!# She closed her mind to any psychic thought, effectively shutting Jean out, relieved that the conversation had ended. "What is it?" She asked as she made her way down to Remy, blocking out all else but the here and now.
He was crouched now, hand gripped to an outward shard of rock as he peered intently into something. Ororo crouched down at his side, placing a hand on his shoulder as she lowered down. There was a crevice in the cliff, almost of a diamond shape in appearance. She dipped down to look into it, holding tight to him to steady herself so that she didn't pitch forwards on the uneven ground. The hole was only dark close up. After the initial opening it seemed to widen out into a cave like space, but it wasn't entirely dark as it had at first seemed; radiance apparent from somewhere.
"Dere's an openin' at de uddah end," Remy moved forwards, practically sticking his head into the apparently natural slit in the solid rock, "Look, yo' can see a ligh' comin' from down dere." He pulled back, letting his hand trail down the wet, coarse surface beneath his palm. "Mebbe it's a way t'rough?"
"Perhaps." Ororo replied thoughtfully as she rocked back and stood up straight. "But the opening---it is not wide enough for us to fit through."
Remy stood up straight too, giving her a lopsided grin. "No' a problem mon chère." He told her with his familiar cocky swagger as he flipped open the button on one of the pouches on his belt. On taking out his hand he displayed a solid looking silver nugget and gave her a knowing look. Turning back to the cliff face, he said quickly, "Stand back 'Roro---dis is gon' be messy."
Ororo immediately did as he bid; watching as he pressed something on top of the small cylindrical object before setting it into the top of the crack in the grey. As soon as it was set in place Remy bolted up the short incline to join her behind the large boulder that he'd previously been sitting on--- diving the last measure as he heard the final click of the mechanism before a torrent of splintered rock burst forth with a rumbling bang. Arms wrapped over heads as a veritable shower of rock and vegetation rained down on them courtesy of Gambit's little device. Once the flow had stopped, they ventured to look back down at the cliff face. But they couldn't see much yet; the debris still clouding around it.
"Lacks a certain subtlety---but it got the job done." Ororo mimicked, much to Remy's amusement as he collapsed back against the smooth surface of the rock they'd used as shelter, laughing breathlessly.
They roused themselves to move after the last of the stray dust had settled in the dusky air, feeling the fine layer like brick residue coming to a rest on their bodies. It had worked. The opening was now twice the size as it had been previously, more than big enough to accommodate them and their gear. Ororo had swiftly gauged that the space was fairly wide; none of her old fears surfacing---the fact that an end was in sight helping to calm her nerves greatly.
"C'mon." Remy said with an excited enthusiasm as he quickly rounded the boulder, making Ororo smile quietly to herself. Such verve she hadn't witnessed in him for a long while. He may have had qualms about this quest but his passion for the chase, the discovery and seizure of a much prized object still got his blood flowing. It was something she hadn't seen in him in such a time that it was a joy to follow him as he entered the widened opening, eager to discover the mystery of its end point.
* * *
The library of the Xavier Institute, an hour or so later...
Jean came into the library and closed the large double doors behind her. It was particularly subdued in the windowless room, more so than usual after the noisy chaos out in the corridors; the end of the school day heralding the influx of countless tittering bodies into the mansion hallways. The redhead walked to the far end of Xavier's extensive archive, lit only by study lamps on the various desks, going past row after row of freestanding book cases, loaded with original editions of books on every subject one could imagine. It was an impressive collection and one that had been in the possession of the Xavier family for well over a hundred and fifty years. The yellowish glow from the screen of a slide archive machine, a row of which ran along the wall at the back of the room, drew Jean to it. They were loaded with all sorts of documents from the most well known news events to the most bazaar and obscure happenings. It had served them well in the past to have information, no matter how unsubstantiated or circumstantial on any and all myths of the world. They of all people knew fact could be stranger than any fiction.
Only one was of the archives was in operation currently, a blue figure slumped in his chair before it; an exhausted three digit hand clung to the back of his stiff neck.
"Find anything?" Jean asked as she set the ice cold bottle of Carlsberg down next to the pile of open books at the side of the slide viewing screen.
"Danke Jean." Kurt said wearily as he to his hand from hanging on his neck and picked up the cold, wet green bottle. Taking a lengthy swig, he took the frost clouded bottle away from his mouth with a suction popping noise and gave a satisfied sigh. "Ahh...nothing beats a good European beer." He smiled as he set the bottle down and swivelled to and fro in his chair as he looked at the page in front of him. "Ja, there have been some things--- but nothing...concrete. Just the usual cock-and-bull mythology---you know the sort."
Jean made a bemused sound as she squatted down at Kurt's side, placing her forearm on the arm rest of his office-style chair. "But what stories have you found Kurt? Anything may be useful---I am sure it's no more crazy than the usual crap we have to deal with." She looked up at the amiable German with a knowing smile, "Don't forget---you're talking to a woman with an inter-dimensional life force living inside her capable of giving life to or destroying entire solar systems for the hell of it."
"And I am the son of a heartless assassin and Beelzebub himself," He deadpanned and then took up his bottle again and raised it in mock toast, "Kudos to us!" They both laughed, though it was very half-hearted and short.
"Anyway, what have you got? It doesn't matter how superstitious it seems."
"Well there have been various mentions of this---Carcoccia---in accounts coming out of central South America more-or-less from the time of the Conquistadors and the Portuguese settlers." Kurt informed her as he flicked through a few slides, tapping a large indigo finger on the red button on the keyboard panel on the desk before him. Eventually, he came to the document he wanted. "It has been known by many names," He pointed at a section of the sepia coloured document up on the screen that listed them, "The 'Bala-Khalu', 'Xaanio', 'Yolocan-Uato' and the Portuguese called it 'Fogo do Mau' on hearing the rumours of its existence ---but not much else was mentioned in these archives. So," Kurt turned his chair and pulled out a thick leather bound book from the bottom of the pile of others. He lifted up the front of the binding so Jean could see its title adorned across the dull brown leather in embossed gold; 'The Legends, Rituals and Myths of South Amerindian Peoples'. "It's an old book---1925, so I thought I'd give it a shot and it came up trumps. None of the later books seemed to mention it." He pointed briefly in the direction of the discarded pile.
Kurt pushed the other books aside to lay this heftier one flat on the table as Jean stood up from her crouching position to get a proper look. Holding back her hair so it didn't fall into her vision, she leant over it, quickly scanning the yellowed page that Kurt had given emphasis to. "The Legend of the Carcoccia and the Lost City of Naroapa Impokiro." Jean read aloud before blindly reaching behind her and pulling the chair that was sat in front of the next machine towards her and sat down. She skipped a few lines and then began to read out loud once more. "...rumours of a cities existence, high above the Amazonian basin first surfaced from the forest with a band of Conquistadors in 1524. They were following the path of the Spanish navigator Vicente Yánez Pinzón as they travelled through the Portuguese territory heading for the Spanish territory of Bolivia but went dangerously off course. When they emerged months later not only did they claim to have discovered an ancient city but also carried tales of a powerful object---one that they called, the Carcoccia. It was made note of as it was reported that only five of the original three-hundred strong party came back from the forest alive..." Again she ran quickly through much of the passage, mouthing the words silently to herself. "...little detail of their account survives and latter attempts to find what the Portuguese called 'A Cidade do Vulcão' in 1834 by Lord Worcester and then by the Professor of Archaeology, José Maria Figo of the University of Rio de Janeiro, in 1903, proved fruitless. The city of Naroapa Impokiro---'Good Star' in the native tongue of the elusive Yaitata'í Indians---and its legend of an object of mythically divine force were all but forgotten by the world of archaeology, now of interest to those only who deal in the field of indigenous ritual and mythology..." Jean leant back in her chair, her face thoughtful, green eyes holding a preoccupied air.
"The only other thing I found that was really of any use was this." Kurt wheeled himself closer to the desk and began to click furiously on the red button once more, the illuminated pages flicking past faster than the eye could see until he slowed down when he neared the one he was after. "This one---in an academic journal written for the Archaeology Society of México City in 1947---apparently a Spanish-written map surfaced, in Gómez Palacio in north Mexico, supposedly showing the location of the city, but no mention of the Carcoccia." Kurt looked as lost in thought as Jean had been for a moment as he picked up his beer bottle and took a sip. "I found it of particular interest because it jogged my memory of a conversation I once had with Remy---about the history of the Guilds." He paused again, gazing at the subtly flickering screen that cast a harsh sallow light on his dark, soft fur. "He was telling me of the various chapters that resided in major cities all over the world and I know, or at least I think I do, that he mentioned a chapter somewhere in Mexico---but that it was only one through- out the entire country."
"You think it could have been in Gómez Palacio?" Jean asked, looking at the screen also, before turning back to Kurt.
"Maybe." He replied softly and then took another sip before placing the bottle back on the desk with a light bang. "I can't remember---it was a long time ago. A couple of years after he joined us. It seems...a lifetime."
"Yes." Jean nodded in quiet agreement. She leant forwards suddenly, pulling the large leather book into her lap. "Doesn't really tell us all that much about this---thing--- whatever it's supposed to be, does it?"
"Nein."
"I only wanted to find out because Ororo and Remy didn't tell us all that much," She took a deep, weary breath as she put the book back onto the desk top, "To be honest I don't think they knew enough to tell us anything even if they'd wanted to."
"You are worried?"
"Just that they don't know what they're letting themselves in for." She admitted. "They've gone into this practically blind---I just thought if we could give them a bit of info on this thing then it might help. I mean, we don't know how powerful it is or what it can do---we might have another Cyttorak crystal on our hands here."
"That's the last thing we need---a dangerous organisation with that kind of power within its grasp. Just look at Cain---although he does appear to be a genuinely reformed character these days." Kurt shook his head, thinking back to the subject, "Ack! The consequences could be disastrous---what is Storm playing at? Surely she wouldn't let them get their hands on such a thing, if indeed it even exists."
Jean sighed and held her hands out in defeat, "I don't know Kurt."
"Apart from all this, how did they seem to you? I heard Angel and some of the other students at the back of my history class muttering about how they'd heard them arguing with the Professor just before they left." He asked, "I'm not one to listen to idle mansion tittle-tattle, but I know they have both had...difficulties settling back into life at the mansion after so long away."
The memory of what she'd witnessed danced across Jean's mind but she held her tongue. Though she didn't stop the vague smile that crossed her lips in time for Kurt not to notice.
"What?"
Jean waved a dismissive hand, "They were fine---trust me." She got up from the swivel chair and went around to the back of it. "Thanks for doing this for me Kurt. I would have done it myself, but I had the Arabic class to cover."
"Oh ja!" Kurt laughed, giving her a sympathetic smile; white teeth gleaming against the dark, "I heard you were taking that class whilst Storm was--- indisposed. How is it?" He asked with playful innocence to which Jean rolled her jade eyes.
"It's a damn nightmare if you want to know the truth." She said, exasperated. "I've absorbed as much as I can, a lot of it telepathically from a student from Gaza."
"The girl with control over water currents?"
"Um-hum." Jean nodded, "But its still a struggle---the girl was reluctant to let me in. It wasn't her fault, it was just like trying to pry open a safe door with a tooth pick. I just hope she comes back soon---if only to relive me!" She laughed as she put her chair back where she'd taken it from. "Anyway, thanks again Kurt. I'll catch you later."
"Ja---see you later Jean." He watched her as she left, until she disappeared behind one of the tall cases, whereon he turned back to the desk. "Ahh Remy," He said to himself, "What have you got yourself involved with this time?" He rolled up the long sleeves of his red cotton t-shirt, closed the great leather book and gathered it up with the others, holding the heavy load close to his chest. In a dazzling series of flare-like bursts of magenta and white light accompanied by the pungent stench of sulphur he whizzed around the various spots in the library, replacing the books from where he'd found them.
* * *
A dark, dank tunnel in the Amazon...
"I swear by the Bright Lady---this is the last time I go on one of your 'extra circular' jaunts Remy LeBeau." The tunnel was a lot longer than either of them had thought, taking a lot longer to get through than at first thought. Plus it had narrowed somewhat towards the middle, necessitating that they get on their hands and knees.
Remy laughed as he crawled close behind her, moving as fast as he could through a welt of slime. "Hey, it was yaw choice chère!" He looked disgustedly at his hand; raising it in front of him when they came to a stop briefly at an awkward outcrop of rock that needed to be transcended. With a quick flick, the dark covering of viscous matter flew from his hand, splattering over the craggy wall at his side that was covered with the stuff already, as were they. "Whose idea was dis again?"
"Yours." She said, unimpressed. Taking hold of the small raised shelf in front of them, Ororo pulled herself up onto it. Remy came up behind her, the tunnel being a little bit higher at this point enabling him to stand up straight and aid her onto the ridge by pushing against the soles of her feet. Once she was safely onto the higher level, he stretched up and took hold of the wet rough edge of the ridge and then with all the strength of his upper body powered into his biceps, swung his lower body upwards, heaving it up onto the shelf in one slick movement.
"What yo' see 'Ro?" He asked as he wiped the dark sludge from his hands. Ororo was a little way further down the suddenly large tunnel, whose opening was now clear, but arched upwards, revealing only the bright evening sky from where he stood. Her form silhouetted against the it.
"Goddess..." Ororo whispered in awe as she crept closer to the edge of the opening, looking out onto something of obvious amazement.
Remy went towards her, the heat and light flooding the tunnel, making its walls gleam. "What is it girl?" He asked again, rather impatiently, when he received no answer. But he was soon dumb struck himself as he came up to Storm's side and witnessed the sight that rolled out before her.
"Mon Dieu..."
-TBC-
# = Telepathic contact.
Brazilian-Portuguese phrases;
A Cidade do Vulcão= The City of the Volcano
Fogo do Mau= Fire of Evil
Chapter.10.
Remy swallowed down deeply, and contrary to every feeling that was running through Ororo's mind and body at this moment, he had a grin on his lips, "It alrigh' petit." He informed her with slight breathlessness; a sense of relief palpable within his voice as he took hold of the dart firmly and yanked it out with some effort. "Urrr--ah!"
"But..." Ororo lips trembled and her copper tinted coca skin turned positively ashen.
"Fuck!---dey always dere when I need dem." He quipped as he reached into the pocket where the presumably poisoned arrow had hit, impacting so deep. As he withdrew his hand, out came the deck of cards they'd been playing with last night; a deep, dark pin-sized whole extending through into at least half of the pack.
Ororo swiftly regained her wits, swallowing the welt of saliva that was full of the taste of panic. "Leave the sheet." She told him sternly as she grabbed her bag from just inside the shelter and then pulled his out too. "We need to get out of here---and now."
"Too righ'." Remy agreed quickly with a sly glance to the side, taking his pack from her and slinging it on. He may have kept his cool veneer but his heart was racing in his chest, but that was a good thing as far as he was concerned---the thrill of action like 'Peruvian Marching Powder' to an addict. Taking only the essentials the pair rounded the tree putting themselves out of the line of fire. They crouched at its foot for a moment, again checking the immediate area about them---but nothing. Then a rustling to their left---brief but distinct and clear.
"Can you see anything?" Ororo whispered, dipping her head and leaning forwards slightly from the balls of her feet, adopting the pose of an eagle scanning for prey. This was the fight with the New York Guild all over again, except this time there was some respect for their opponents and their skills.
"Non." Remy responded equally quietly.
"We have to draw them out." She said matter-of-factly after a period of fruitless searching in complete silence; the intensity as thick as the atmosphere. "There is no way we are going to get away from here whilst we can not see our opponent."
"Oui." He answered, again monosyllabic. Moving forwards slowly he placed his hands on the ground, fingers extended vertically like a runner about to burst from the starting post. "'Ow 'bout yo' try an' conjure up a li'll mist? At best it migh' bring dem closer in---at wors' it'll cover our escape."
"I will try." Ororo stated, realising it was possibly the only option open to them here. They were clearly up against a more-or-less invisible foe that knew the forest so well that they could effectively become apart of it- --only revealing themselves if and when they wanted. Otherwise they would only have to sit and wait---picking the pair off with more darts at their leisure. Storm began to focus her mind, closing her eyes to all around her as her psionic powers came into play. She found it much easier to summon a mild mist than she'd thought; simply pulling it down from the layer it created over the top of the canopy.
Remy was always mesmerised by the sheer beauty of it, even in these circumstances, as the brittle white cloak descended gracefully to the forest floor, coating everything about it with a layer that seemed like a light frosting. He looked over to her at his side; her eyes open now, swirling with a pearl-like exquisiteness.
"Now wha'?"
"We wait." Once the mist was there her job was effectively done and her eyes regained their sapphire quality, the pale swirls receding back to the edges of her orbs. "On my mark---we make our move." All the possibilities on how they could defend themselves ran through her mental list of battle plans and strategy. They were facing indigenous tribe people here, who were only acting out of a need to defend their territories from perceived intruders---that automatically precluded any further possibility of using her powers to fend them off---even minor use. She didn't feel she had the right; they were only protecting what was theirs after all.
The distinct sound of rustling came again, flowing from several directions at once but this time a soft muttering of communication was carried to their ears on the back of it. Ororo held on for a little while longer, waiting the vital seconds before issuing the order to Remy to move. Everything around her became distilled---broken down into its requisite parts. Sound, sight and smell---all carrying their own significance, magnified tenfold in the moments before action.
"Move!" She said low and harsh as she started forwards quickly and with her movement out came several figures from the growth and mist. Dark like burnt umber, daubed with slashes of red and black about naked torsos and exposed arms. Skirts of dry, brittle reeds hung from their waists, the legs and feet beneath bare. As Remy and Ororo raced down the bank from the tree, it became obvious fairly soon that they were surrounded---all paths blocked to them. Confrontation was not desired but appeared to be unavoidable.
"What yo' t'ink we should do chère?" They had their backs to one another, moving in a mutual kind of circle as more bodies emerged from Ororo's false covering---its intent pointless on those who knew this world blind.
"We do what we must to get us out of here," she let a weak breeze clear the mist, although some remained where it was, "but we must try not to harm them...if we can avoid it."
"Yo' de boss 'Roro." Remy quipped as he reached for his unarmed Bo staff, tucked into the long pocket that ran the length of his left thigh. He wasn't at all convinced that they'd be able to exit this situation successfully without drawing at least some blood. With his customary flick and the zing of metal shooting out and clicking into place with a clack, his weapon was primed and ready for use.
Ororo surveyed the shift in the situation as more bodies emerged; the beginnings of short, curt communications bouncing around the forest floor...
"Ömö...Apuitime...tôtô...yolocan..." All of the air and distinct from their corporeal bodies; the words muttered in apprehensive but not quite fearful gasps.
The first move was theirs. A spear came in from the left, narrowly missing Storm by a hairs breadth, exploding into the mossy incline behind them with a pronounced *splut!*. Then one came in from Remy's left, leaving him to deflect it expertly with his Bo; the sharpened point of the light coloured length of wood splintering on contact.
"Casiri ie-áp...apuitime camangári diabo..." On uttering those words a soaring young tribes man made a bee-line for Ororo; his spear raised, his coffee toned face set in a veneer of consummate determination. As he neared she kicked at the spear, knocking it from its intended course but not quite out of the man's hand. She used her momentum to spin around him and deliver a hard blow to the small of his back, knocking him to the ground without too much effort.
All the time Remy had his eye on the other tribe's men, two of whom had held back from the rest coming in, perched on the lower branches of a nearby tree as they loaded their blow pipes. The older one was primed and aimed before the other; drawing in a deep breath before puffing on the end of the hollowed out straight branch held securely in both hands. The feather tailed dart was headed straight for Ororo as she rebalanced herself from deflecting her attacker. It didn't take Gambit more than a microsecond to hurl himself with a certain amount of style into its path, his staff out and ready to fend it off as he had the spear that came his way moments earlier.
But once he had done that he found the battle had come to him; one from the left, one from the right and one directly in front.
"Amore tu ömö!" One of them cried---Remy couldn't tell which. "Diadia uato ie-réa kamangari!"
Only the one at his front was armed with a spear the other two had crudely fashioned blades at their disposal. Riding himself of his cumbersome rucksack, Remy agilely took out the man with the spear first; unlike Ororo, succeeding in riding his attacker of his weapon with a well-placed strike of his foot. His only problem remained now in the two with the blades that were still advancing on him and by the time he had disposed of the spear- bearer, were practically on top of him.
*CLINK---CLASH!* Two strikes avoided with cunning skill and two deft twists of his arsenal---the sparks literally flying as the metals came into fast contact. Letting the staff spin back around with its own motion it cracked at the back of the man's head on Remy's right-hand side, hard enough to have him seeing stars but no lasting damage. That gave Remy a little leeway then to attend to his other foe, letting him step back and create some distance in which to fight. He only had a quick respite in which to glance over and see how Ororo was holding up. But as always, she was doing just fine.
Well, she was doing fine until she was taken by surprise from behind. No sooner had she slipped her pack off to give her better agility than arms with the strength of steel locked around her chest; binding her tightly. She only had a moment to strain against this attacker when a third blade- bearer rushed towards her from the mask of trees, his sword raised. Pushing her back into the chest of her captor, Ororo succeeded in launching her legs from the ground and just as the man with the sword was about to deliver his blow she caught him underneath his chin; his mouth promptly slamming shut with a snapping sound as it filled swiftly with salty blood. As he collapsed to the ground all that was left was for Storm to release herself from the arms of the other man. She did so by suddenly throwing her weight forwards, taking her attacker by surprise as he too rocked forwards with frightening force, leading the pair to literally flip over.
As they landed on the marshy floor with a muted splash in the saturated sponge of a ground, Ororo made sure that she came down on top of him as hard as she could---winding him instantly. But just to make sure as she pulled herself up from his suddenly limp hold she rammed her elbow into his ribs on the right flank of his body, leading him to issue a shocked and strangled cry. Rather unskilled and perhaps a little crude but the streets of Cairo had taught her to fight dirty when needs be.
"I t'ink it time we made a sharp exit girl---an' now!" Remy shouted as he smashed the flat of his palm into the face of the man he was currently holding at arms length. But that didn't quite stop the young man, his black irises fixed clearly and his set mouth stained with a thin trickle of scarlet from his nose, in his determination to get to the intruder. He still had his blade, with its carved arching handle, clasped in his right hand; the blue veins on its back standing out in stark relief with the tension of his grip as Gambit held it tightly at the wrist to stop him moving it.
Remy was forced to make a quick decision on what to do. He didn't want to hurt him anymore than was necessary but he was being left with little choice here. Taking his other hand onto the young man's right arm he gripped it a little way away from where his other hand was. With a deft movement he twisted his hands around in opposite directions from one another. There was a clean noise, not so much a snap as a click, quickly followed by the man's scream of agony; his face crumbling as he fell away from Remy and cradled his broken wrist to him, dropping his blade to the ground.
"Remy!" He spun around, his eyes searching fro her quickly through the green. She was stood about fifty yards away from him, blocking herself from sight at the side of a tree. "Come on---we need do them no more harm. I think there is a route down here that is clear."
"Absolument!" Remy exclaimed darkly as he started over to her, swiftly lifting up his rucksack from the floor as he passed through the sparse scatter of injured men. As he got up to where Ororo was, he spared a quick look behind him. What tribe's men were still left standing, primarily the ones with the blow-pipes, had taken it upon themselves to see to their injured brothers rather than take off after their enemy. "I don' t'ink dey gonna be followin' any time soon chère---so let's shoot it. We migh' be able t' lose dem if we quick enough."
Neither needed to be told twice as they disappeared off down an opening in the undergrowth that sloped down into a dark natural path. They had no idea where they were going or if it was putting them drastically off-course but that was the least of their concerns right now as the mournful cries of those they'd left behind receded into the background; muffled and lost amongst the sounds of the living breathing forest around them.
* * *
Many hours and many miles away...
Remy sat down on the outcrop of a boulder and unhooked his canteen. Taking the top off quickly he practically poured the cool, clear liquid down his throat; his head tipped right back to let it slip down easily. Then, without breaking the constant flow of the refreshing water he moved it from his mouth so that it dowsed over his heat flushed face and then over his hair. They had more than enough to spare as there had been another rainstorm at about three in the afternoon that had lasted for up to two hours. But they hadn't stopped in the face of it, preferring to push on, not sure as to whether the tribe that had attacked them had regrouped and picked up their trail. They may have been on their tail for most of the day for all they knew so it was safer to just keep on moving. But now they had come to a stop---partly trough physical exhaustion but mainly because they were now faced with a rather large spoke in their wheels; a sheer cliff face.
"I could at least try Remy." Ororo said as she craned her neck backwards to gaze up to the summit that could have been almost three hundred feet tall--- maybe more maybe less. Whatever it was, it was certainly a sticking point because according to their map---both of them---it didn't even exist.
"Non," Remy told her in no uncertain terms, "I can see 'ow tried yo' are girl---I don' wan' yo' t' risk it." He hopped down agilely from the rock he'd been perched on, taking another swig from his canteen as he walked over to her side. Swiftly he glanced up at where she was looking, a large patch of golden shaded, raw sienna sky showing through an oval gap at the top of the craggy light grey cliff, and the cusp of the trees behind them, before taking his eyes back down to her. The light cast down onto her upturned face, bathing smooth refined features with an aureole; face and hair glistening with the after-thought of the last rain-shower. He wanted to say something to her so much, but now didn't really seem to be the time...besides, what would he say?
"Using my powers in short blasts is enough for me to manage. I could just--- ."
"No way ho-say, 'Batgirl'." He joked, cutting across her. There was no way he was going to let her try and fight to create a wind current strong enough to elevate them both to the top---it was clear she wasn't up to it right now. Even the small amounts of manipulation she'd used in their fight against the mystery tribe had taken quite a lot out of her. She'd tried to hide it of course but Remy could see it.
"What do you suggest then?" She asked with a slight laugh, looking over at him
Remy was pulled from the daydream state he'd briefly slipped into, turning quickly from her before blue orbs fell upon him. He kept his neck stiff and unmoving as he gazed ahead of him; his eyes concentrating on the textured groves of hard and soft greys with toughs of ragged bush growing from it here and there, alcoves of birds nests dotted about too. Just from the corner he could see her face turned towards him, her gaze resolute and unaffected. He tried to shift his thoughts to the problem they now faced and ignore it. "We coul' climb."
"And if we should fall?"
"Den---an' only den---yo' coul' catch us." He said quickly, finally turning to face her and intently so.
Ororo's breath caught in her throat for a moment, her heart stilled. Never once did she break from his gaze. "Yes---if I needed to...I would always be there to catch us." A moment of stasis passed in the bright auroras from above. "And what about you?"
"I'd be dere too." Remy said firmly, his face a mask of seriousness. His right hand, the one closest to her reached up; the movement quick but not startling. It slowed only when it came close to her, held near to the skin of her cheek. Then he ran his fingers, three together, bent at the calloused knuckle above the cut of his gloves, along it; that defined bone beneath skin like satin, solid and sure. Hearts quickened at the touch, but no words spoken. None were needed...
First Ororo's eyes fell from Remy and then she stepped away, her arms wrapping about herself in a self-affirming hug. Protective. She meandered down the short dip towards the cliff face; stood before them like an unmoveable Goliath. This was too much to contemplate right now---there were things that she was beginning to feel that she couldn't admit to herself never mind Remy. Though he seemed to be suffering from the same dilemma--- that only served to make things complicated still for it meant that they couldn't ignore it, even if they'd wanted to. She was used to chaos in her life, she could deal with that, the relative simplicity of fighting for what was good and true, being an X-Man made that a certain. One could barely go through a day without it. But the other thing she suffered from--- they all suffered from---was a certain amount of emotional detachment. Get any of us on a Freudian's couch, she thought wryly, and they would have a field day. Remy was one of the few safe places for her---emotionally---but now that was all changing and she didn't know how to stop it.
"I know dis ain't de bes' time or place bu'...we can't go on avoidin' dis fo'evah 'Roro."
Storm turned back to face him. She didn't want to but his admission held such a tender defeat that she couldn't bare not to. "Not now Remy, please..."
# Storm! # The sound of the voice shook her, literally, making her stumble back with its amplified intrusion, her back against the cliff; the cultured tone rattling around her skull.
"Professor." Ororo replied calmly, out loud for Remy's benefit. "You found us then."
#Not without some difficulty, my dear.# He told her with held back irritation. #It was Jean who found you---last night. But you were sleeping.# By now Charles had extended his communication to Remy also; the Cajun clearing a way for him through his psychic defences that still remained formidably strong despite the absence of his powers. Hank had been interested in studying this particular phenomenon, as it had always been assumed that the inability of telepaths to penetrate his mind was directly linked to his bio-kinetic signature. But Remy had told him, in no uncertain terms, where he could stick his probes and test tubes. Rather unsurprisingly, Hank hadn't pushed the matter further than that.
#I am sorry that we failed to contact you Charles---but we had other things to contend with.# Ororo said apologetically, coming back up close to where Remy was stood; nonchalantly drinking from his canteen again, suddenly acting like he didn't have a care in the world.
# I appreciate that, but surely a simple telephone call could not have been beyond you.# He said, trying not to sound too stern. # The mini X-jet does have e-mail facilities, you know? #
Ororo heard Remy sigh; just seeing the shake of his head from the corner of her eye. But she didn't turn to look at him as the atmosphere just ahead of them became distorted, like holographic fuzz. After a few seconds and image of the top half of the Professor's body appeared to them; a psychic projection from thousands of miles away. "We would have contacted you," she said to the image as if he were stood right before her in the physical person, "But it is fair to say we have had are reasons for not doing so."
"No doubt connected in someway to what Remy's father has asked of you?"
"Non," Remy finally spoke up, coming forwards so that he was stood face to face with Xavier's facsimile. "It wuzn't mah Poppa---well non directly---it wuz de uddah Guild's, mon ami."
"Oh?"
"Don' worry homme---I'll 'ave 'Roro back safe an' soun' befo'e de week's out."
"There is no need for this to become confrontational Remy," Xavier warned, not happy with Gambit's tone. "We were simply concerned about your whereabouts. Jean and I became worried when our repeated searches failed to locate you."
"And we are sorry for that Charles," Ororo said, "But you know we are safe now---though I can not tell you how much longer we shall be away from the school. The task has turned out to be more involving than we had hoped."
"What task?" That wasn't the Professor's voice---it was distinctly feminine. The air at the side of Xavier's image began to blur and distort as a projection of a pretty redhead came into being.
"Hello Jean."
"Hey Ororo---what task?" She repeated.
"We've been charged to retrieve something for the Guild." Ororo replied; completely non-committal, unrevealing. She didn't want to give Charles or Remy any ammunition to pick-up where they'd left off in his office.
"Is that all you're going to give us?" Jean asked lightly, "Come on 'Ro--- since when couldn't you tell us anything? I'm your best friend, if you two are in any trouble, you know we'd be there in a heartbeat."
Ororo opened her mouth to reply, but Remy cut across her. "We be fine Jean," He told her earnestly, any left over antagonism gone now. He turned briefly to Ororo, "We may as well tell 'em," facing back to the projections of his X-colleagues, he said, "Some o' de Guild's found a map---an ol' map-- -showin' de location o' a relic they been wantin' t' git dheir hands on since fo'evah. I jus' 'appen t' be de t'ief dey wan'ed fo' de job."
"They wanted you?" Charles asked sceptically. To which Remy simply made a face and shrugged his shoulders to show that he too found it highly suspect but, he was asked to do it, so he was doing it. Just this one last time... "So, what is this relic?"
"It's called de Carcoccia---don' know much 'bout it. Jus' myths I 'eard growin' up." He admitted. "Dere 'ave been tails o' it in all de Guild's---a powerful object, but no-one seems t' know what exactly dis---power---is. An' f dey do, dey ain't been obligin' enough t' let Remy know." He gave a dry laugh, "Fo' all we know we be out 'ere in de middle of nowhere, chasin' a goddamn ghost."
"Not to mention being chased ourselves." Ororo added caustically.
"What was that?"
"Nuhddin' chère," Remy grinned, "Jus' a bit o' a run-in wit' some o' de locals."
"Locals?" Jean raised an eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest.
"It does not matter Jean," Ororo assured her, "Honestly---it was nothing of importance."
"As long as you are both okay?" The Professor inquired, looking at them both in turn. "Should you need any help---if you find yourself in dire- straits, do not hesitate to contact us. Your general co-ordinates have been programmed into Cerebra---she will be capable of picking up the psychic residue of any distress signals you put out into the atmosphere, should either of us," He gestured towards Jean, "fail to pick them up."
"Thank-you Charles." Ororo said kindly, "We appreciate it...we really do."
Charles nodded, giving one of his rare smiles, "Well, be careful...my X- Men." As the last words faded from the atmosphere so did the Professor's image; shimmering and then breaking apart into a mist-like vapour that transcended into the air.
"Good luck---the both of you." Jean offered before her likeness too vanished into the sultry atmosphere. But her communication was not gone as Ororo felt her voice resonate around her head. #What's going on 'Ro?#
Before she answered Storm glanced at Remy, ascertaining quickly that this communication was for her mind only. #What do you mean?#
Jean's laugh rattled and rolled around Ororo's skull like a marble set loose in a ceramic pot. #Don't give me that---I am psychic you know and it doesn't take a strong one to pick up on the amount of tension I'm gettin' from down there.#
#Jean, I have no idea---#
#'Ro, it's as thick as one of your fogs. Pea Soup! # Jean insisted, #I even picked up on it last night, while you were sleeping. God, I could almost taste it!#
Ororo shook her head and tried to brush it off, #Whatever you were sticking your nose into last night, my friend, was none of your concern. Besides, I still do not know what you are talking about.# The warning was friendly enough.
#Now 'Ro, sweetie, you know you're a terrible liar and I don't need to be telepathic to pick that up either---it's kind of a best friend thing.# If Jean hadn't been sure last night or during their initial contact, then she was now. She'd definitely picked up on something potent, but she couldn't put her finger on it. A waft, like perfume that lingers in a room once the wearer has gone, had crowded around the pair when she had finally located them and found them sleeping. It was like an aura almost, something that on occasion her Phoenix Force that nestled deep within her being let her witness. Every now and then she could see, smell and even taste the residue of people's emotions, if they were being emitted into the atmosphere strongly enough. That's what she saw last night; a tension that she'd never experienced between Gambit and Storm, coating the pair like a cocoon as they lay together, against each other in the suffocating dark of the forest night. But as her mind had skirted around it for a while, testing it almost like one would feel a loaf of bread for freshness, she realised it wasn't a negative aura at all as she'd first suspected. It was one...poignant. That was all she could think of to describe it. Poignant. #What's going on with you two?#
Ororo pursed her lips and tried to clear her mind of any stray thoughts that might betray her. But just as she felt her grip on them loosening, threatening to let them free for Jean to read at her leisure, Remy inadvertently came to her rescue.
"'Ro!" She span round to see him down by the cliff face, peering into something that was currently blocked from her view. "Come look at dis." He beckoned her with a wave of his hand without ever turning to face her.
#Sorry Jean---got to go.#
#But---#
#Goodbye!# She closed her mind to any psychic thought, effectively shutting Jean out, relieved that the conversation had ended. "What is it?" She asked as she made her way down to Remy, blocking out all else but the here and now.
He was crouched now, hand gripped to an outward shard of rock as he peered intently into something. Ororo crouched down at his side, placing a hand on his shoulder as she lowered down. There was a crevice in the cliff, almost of a diamond shape in appearance. She dipped down to look into it, holding tight to him to steady herself so that she didn't pitch forwards on the uneven ground. The hole was only dark close up. After the initial opening it seemed to widen out into a cave like space, but it wasn't entirely dark as it had at first seemed; radiance apparent from somewhere.
"Dere's an openin' at de uddah end," Remy moved forwards, practically sticking his head into the apparently natural slit in the solid rock, "Look, yo' can see a ligh' comin' from down dere." He pulled back, letting his hand trail down the wet, coarse surface beneath his palm. "Mebbe it's a way t'rough?"
"Perhaps." Ororo replied thoughtfully as she rocked back and stood up straight. "But the opening---it is not wide enough for us to fit through."
Remy stood up straight too, giving her a lopsided grin. "No' a problem mon chère." He told her with his familiar cocky swagger as he flipped open the button on one of the pouches on his belt. On taking out his hand he displayed a solid looking silver nugget and gave her a knowing look. Turning back to the cliff face, he said quickly, "Stand back 'Roro---dis is gon' be messy."
Ororo immediately did as he bid; watching as he pressed something on top of the small cylindrical object before setting it into the top of the crack in the grey. As soon as it was set in place Remy bolted up the short incline to join her behind the large boulder that he'd previously been sitting on--- diving the last measure as he heard the final click of the mechanism before a torrent of splintered rock burst forth with a rumbling bang. Arms wrapped over heads as a veritable shower of rock and vegetation rained down on them courtesy of Gambit's little device. Once the flow had stopped, they ventured to look back down at the cliff face. But they couldn't see much yet; the debris still clouding around it.
"Lacks a certain subtlety---but it got the job done." Ororo mimicked, much to Remy's amusement as he collapsed back against the smooth surface of the rock they'd used as shelter, laughing breathlessly.
They roused themselves to move after the last of the stray dust had settled in the dusky air, feeling the fine layer like brick residue coming to a rest on their bodies. It had worked. The opening was now twice the size as it had been previously, more than big enough to accommodate them and their gear. Ororo had swiftly gauged that the space was fairly wide; none of her old fears surfacing---the fact that an end was in sight helping to calm her nerves greatly.
"C'mon." Remy said with an excited enthusiasm as he quickly rounded the boulder, making Ororo smile quietly to herself. Such verve she hadn't witnessed in him for a long while. He may have had qualms about this quest but his passion for the chase, the discovery and seizure of a much prized object still got his blood flowing. It was something she hadn't seen in him in such a time that it was a joy to follow him as he entered the widened opening, eager to discover the mystery of its end point.
* * *
The library of the Xavier Institute, an hour or so later...
Jean came into the library and closed the large double doors behind her. It was particularly subdued in the windowless room, more so than usual after the noisy chaos out in the corridors; the end of the school day heralding the influx of countless tittering bodies into the mansion hallways. The redhead walked to the far end of Xavier's extensive archive, lit only by study lamps on the various desks, going past row after row of freestanding book cases, loaded with original editions of books on every subject one could imagine. It was an impressive collection and one that had been in the possession of the Xavier family for well over a hundred and fifty years. The yellowish glow from the screen of a slide archive machine, a row of which ran along the wall at the back of the room, drew Jean to it. They were loaded with all sorts of documents from the most well known news events to the most bazaar and obscure happenings. It had served them well in the past to have information, no matter how unsubstantiated or circumstantial on any and all myths of the world. They of all people knew fact could be stranger than any fiction.
Only one was of the archives was in operation currently, a blue figure slumped in his chair before it; an exhausted three digit hand clung to the back of his stiff neck.
"Find anything?" Jean asked as she set the ice cold bottle of Carlsberg down next to the pile of open books at the side of the slide viewing screen.
"Danke Jean." Kurt said wearily as he to his hand from hanging on his neck and picked up the cold, wet green bottle. Taking a lengthy swig, he took the frost clouded bottle away from his mouth with a suction popping noise and gave a satisfied sigh. "Ahh...nothing beats a good European beer." He smiled as he set the bottle down and swivelled to and fro in his chair as he looked at the page in front of him. "Ja, there have been some things--- but nothing...concrete. Just the usual cock-and-bull mythology---you know the sort."
Jean made a bemused sound as she squatted down at Kurt's side, placing her forearm on the arm rest of his office-style chair. "But what stories have you found Kurt? Anything may be useful---I am sure it's no more crazy than the usual crap we have to deal with." She looked up at the amiable German with a knowing smile, "Don't forget---you're talking to a woman with an inter-dimensional life force living inside her capable of giving life to or destroying entire solar systems for the hell of it."
"And I am the son of a heartless assassin and Beelzebub himself," He deadpanned and then took up his bottle again and raised it in mock toast, "Kudos to us!" They both laughed, though it was very half-hearted and short.
"Anyway, what have you got? It doesn't matter how superstitious it seems."
"Well there have been various mentions of this---Carcoccia---in accounts coming out of central South America more-or-less from the time of the Conquistadors and the Portuguese settlers." Kurt informed her as he flicked through a few slides, tapping a large indigo finger on the red button on the keyboard panel on the desk before him. Eventually, he came to the document he wanted. "It has been known by many names," He pointed at a section of the sepia coloured document up on the screen that listed them, "The 'Bala-Khalu', 'Xaanio', 'Yolocan-Uato' and the Portuguese called it 'Fogo do Mau' on hearing the rumours of its existence ---but not much else was mentioned in these archives. So," Kurt turned his chair and pulled out a thick leather bound book from the bottom of the pile of others. He lifted up the front of the binding so Jean could see its title adorned across the dull brown leather in embossed gold; 'The Legends, Rituals and Myths of South Amerindian Peoples'. "It's an old book---1925, so I thought I'd give it a shot and it came up trumps. None of the later books seemed to mention it." He pointed briefly in the direction of the discarded pile.
Kurt pushed the other books aside to lay this heftier one flat on the table as Jean stood up from her crouching position to get a proper look. Holding back her hair so it didn't fall into her vision, she leant over it, quickly scanning the yellowed page that Kurt had given emphasis to. "The Legend of the Carcoccia and the Lost City of Naroapa Impokiro." Jean read aloud before blindly reaching behind her and pulling the chair that was sat in front of the next machine towards her and sat down. She skipped a few lines and then began to read out loud once more. "...rumours of a cities existence, high above the Amazonian basin first surfaced from the forest with a band of Conquistadors in 1524. They were following the path of the Spanish navigator Vicente Yánez Pinzón as they travelled through the Portuguese territory heading for the Spanish territory of Bolivia but went dangerously off course. When they emerged months later not only did they claim to have discovered an ancient city but also carried tales of a powerful object---one that they called, the Carcoccia. It was made note of as it was reported that only five of the original three-hundred strong party came back from the forest alive..." Again she ran quickly through much of the passage, mouthing the words silently to herself. "...little detail of their account survives and latter attempts to find what the Portuguese called 'A Cidade do Vulcão' in 1834 by Lord Worcester and then by the Professor of Archaeology, José Maria Figo of the University of Rio de Janeiro, in 1903, proved fruitless. The city of Naroapa Impokiro---'Good Star' in the native tongue of the elusive Yaitata'í Indians---and its legend of an object of mythically divine force were all but forgotten by the world of archaeology, now of interest to those only who deal in the field of indigenous ritual and mythology..." Jean leant back in her chair, her face thoughtful, green eyes holding a preoccupied air.
"The only other thing I found that was really of any use was this." Kurt wheeled himself closer to the desk and began to click furiously on the red button once more, the illuminated pages flicking past faster than the eye could see until he slowed down when he neared the one he was after. "This one---in an academic journal written for the Archaeology Society of México City in 1947---apparently a Spanish-written map surfaced, in Gómez Palacio in north Mexico, supposedly showing the location of the city, but no mention of the Carcoccia." Kurt looked as lost in thought as Jean had been for a moment as he picked up his beer bottle and took a sip. "I found it of particular interest because it jogged my memory of a conversation I once had with Remy---about the history of the Guilds." He paused again, gazing at the subtly flickering screen that cast a harsh sallow light on his dark, soft fur. "He was telling me of the various chapters that resided in major cities all over the world and I know, or at least I think I do, that he mentioned a chapter somewhere in Mexico---but that it was only one through- out the entire country."
"You think it could have been in Gómez Palacio?" Jean asked, looking at the screen also, before turning back to Kurt.
"Maybe." He replied softly and then took another sip before placing the bottle back on the desk with a light bang. "I can't remember---it was a long time ago. A couple of years after he joined us. It seems...a lifetime."
"Yes." Jean nodded in quiet agreement. She leant forwards suddenly, pulling the large leather book into her lap. "Doesn't really tell us all that much about this---thing--- whatever it's supposed to be, does it?"
"Nein."
"I only wanted to find out because Ororo and Remy didn't tell us all that much," She took a deep, weary breath as she put the book back onto the desk top, "To be honest I don't think they knew enough to tell us anything even if they'd wanted to."
"You are worried?"
"Just that they don't know what they're letting themselves in for." She admitted. "They've gone into this practically blind---I just thought if we could give them a bit of info on this thing then it might help. I mean, we don't know how powerful it is or what it can do---we might have another Cyttorak crystal on our hands here."
"That's the last thing we need---a dangerous organisation with that kind of power within its grasp. Just look at Cain---although he does appear to be a genuinely reformed character these days." Kurt shook his head, thinking back to the subject, "Ack! The consequences could be disastrous---what is Storm playing at? Surely she wouldn't let them get their hands on such a thing, if indeed it even exists."
Jean sighed and held her hands out in defeat, "I don't know Kurt."
"Apart from all this, how did they seem to you? I heard Angel and some of the other students at the back of my history class muttering about how they'd heard them arguing with the Professor just before they left." He asked, "I'm not one to listen to idle mansion tittle-tattle, but I know they have both had...difficulties settling back into life at the mansion after so long away."
The memory of what she'd witnessed danced across Jean's mind but she held her tongue. Though she didn't stop the vague smile that crossed her lips in time for Kurt not to notice.
"What?"
Jean waved a dismissive hand, "They were fine---trust me." She got up from the swivel chair and went around to the back of it. "Thanks for doing this for me Kurt. I would have done it myself, but I had the Arabic class to cover."
"Oh ja!" Kurt laughed, giving her a sympathetic smile; white teeth gleaming against the dark, "I heard you were taking that class whilst Storm was--- indisposed. How is it?" He asked with playful innocence to which Jean rolled her jade eyes.
"It's a damn nightmare if you want to know the truth." She said, exasperated. "I've absorbed as much as I can, a lot of it telepathically from a student from Gaza."
"The girl with control over water currents?"
"Um-hum." Jean nodded, "But its still a struggle---the girl was reluctant to let me in. It wasn't her fault, it was just like trying to pry open a safe door with a tooth pick. I just hope she comes back soon---if only to relive me!" She laughed as she put her chair back where she'd taken it from. "Anyway, thanks again Kurt. I'll catch you later."
"Ja---see you later Jean." He watched her as she left, until she disappeared behind one of the tall cases, whereon he turned back to the desk. "Ahh Remy," He said to himself, "What have you got yourself involved with this time?" He rolled up the long sleeves of his red cotton t-shirt, closed the great leather book and gathered it up with the others, holding the heavy load close to his chest. In a dazzling series of flare-like bursts of magenta and white light accompanied by the pungent stench of sulphur he whizzed around the various spots in the library, replacing the books from where he'd found them.
* * *
A dark, dank tunnel in the Amazon...
"I swear by the Bright Lady---this is the last time I go on one of your 'extra circular' jaunts Remy LeBeau." The tunnel was a lot longer than either of them had thought, taking a lot longer to get through than at first thought. Plus it had narrowed somewhat towards the middle, necessitating that they get on their hands and knees.
Remy laughed as he crawled close behind her, moving as fast as he could through a welt of slime. "Hey, it was yaw choice chère!" He looked disgustedly at his hand; raising it in front of him when they came to a stop briefly at an awkward outcrop of rock that needed to be transcended. With a quick flick, the dark covering of viscous matter flew from his hand, splattering over the craggy wall at his side that was covered with the stuff already, as were they. "Whose idea was dis again?"
"Yours." She said, unimpressed. Taking hold of the small raised shelf in front of them, Ororo pulled herself up onto it. Remy came up behind her, the tunnel being a little bit higher at this point enabling him to stand up straight and aid her onto the ridge by pushing against the soles of her feet. Once she was safely onto the higher level, he stretched up and took hold of the wet rough edge of the ridge and then with all the strength of his upper body powered into his biceps, swung his lower body upwards, heaving it up onto the shelf in one slick movement.
"What yo' see 'Ro?" He asked as he wiped the dark sludge from his hands. Ororo was a little way further down the suddenly large tunnel, whose opening was now clear, but arched upwards, revealing only the bright evening sky from where he stood. Her form silhouetted against the it.
"Goddess..." Ororo whispered in awe as she crept closer to the edge of the opening, looking out onto something of obvious amazement.
Remy went towards her, the heat and light flooding the tunnel, making its walls gleam. "What is it girl?" He asked again, rather impatiently, when he received no answer. But he was soon dumb struck himself as he came up to Storm's side and witnessed the sight that rolled out before her.
"Mon Dieu..."
-TBC-