A/N: I am terrible at timekeeping. This chapter was meant to be a birthday present for Harry Wriggle. But her birthday was in December. Um ... happy (very) belated birthday, Harry!
Chapter Nineteen: The Battle Begins
'Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life' - Benjamin Disraeli, 1st Earl of Beaconsfield, in Vivian Grey.
Ray Crisp paced the restricted space of the watchtower like a caged animal.
He hated being cooped up. He hated it even more tonight. As everyone who knew him was aware, Ray had an uncanny knack of sensing any bad feeling that might be abroad and absorbing it into his own ill humour before anyone else even got wind of its existence. It wasn't a Changeling power, but a simple trait of his personality, and consequently it made him tetchy and unapproachable most – if not all – of the time. Certainly all the daylight hours, at least.
Thus it was that this night, having been placed on watch duty when usually he would've retired to bed, Ray was in a worse temper than usual. He stomped about the watchtower, sometimes peering out over the gate, sometimes leaning in a corner with his eyes closed, muttering.
Such was his mind-set, he spent more time with his eyes closed than doing any actual watching, as a lookout was supposed to. Ray had his own set of personal rules, and pointedly ignored all those who told him otherwise.
Tonight, he found himself contemplating the source of his bad feeling, and the general atmosphere permeating the rest of the temple recently. To wit: the three Soul Carriers.
Just the thought of them made Ray screw up him mouth, remembering how he'd tried to send them away when they first arrived looking for help. Despite what people may have thought of him, Ray wasn't unkind. Had he realised the extent of their plea, and their true identities, then he never would have done what he'd done, and Jubilee would never have been forced to clean up after him – although it didn't seem to him as though she minded. Last he looked, she'd been getting pretty cosy with that Germanic elf in a tree. They hadn't known he was there, of course, and he couldn't hear what they were saying, but still, they'd just seemed so… so close; like they were sharing some intimate secret he wasn't privy to.
He'd almost sent them away…
But the wounds of his slaughtered village had still been fresh in his mind. Were still fresh in his mind. They influenced everything he did; from washing pots to dealing with travellers.
They still pained him, though he never let anybody see how much he hurt inside. Instead, he just dressed his damaged emotions up as surliness and reclothed them in anger. He didn't want pity. He was stronger than that. he was a survivor. All he wanted now was revenge against the man who'd destroyed his home and family to get at him, just because he happened to be a Changeling. He wanted the man who taken everything and everyone he'd ever held dear.
He wanted the Silver Sword.
Unbidden, a recent conversation he'd had with one of the Soul Carriers sprang to mind. The Rogue herself, no less. Ray had gone to visit her out of curiosity more than anything else – apologies were out of the question for him – but found himself drawn into a conversation with her on all manner of things. Unlike most folk, the Rogue had seemed genuinely interested in what he'd had to say. She'd listened with interest as he said his piece, never once interrupting, or saying like most people, 'But that's unreasonable because…'
Ray had been surprised at this, given her famous temper. He'd been even more surprised at how she teased things out of him, getting him to talk copiously about his family, about how much he missed them, and how much he hated the Silver Sword – something he'd never really spoken to anyone about since he came to the temple a few months ago. Not even Ororo had made him talk, and she had a … a presence about her nobody else did.
The Rogue had been understanding about the whole business, giving her opinions and relating her own experiences with the Silver Sword and his actions throughout Earth-Realm. Yet it was something she'd said afterwards that really stuck in Ray's mind. Now it knelled inside of his brain like an importunate bell, forcing itself into his consciousness.
"You gotta be careful, Ray," she'd said. "Anger can be healthy way of relieving aggression, but it's also incredibly dangerous. You have to know when to stop it, and make sure that you can, because if you let it rule your life then it'll consume you. Trust me, Ray. It very nearly happened to me. It was only luck and chance got me away from my inner demons. Don't let it happen to you. Whatever you do, keep your anger in check, or y'all risk becoming what you hate the most – a monster."
"A monster," Ray breathed. Wisps of steam curled from his mouth and went frolicking away on the cool night air.
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense – a warped kind of logic nobody had ever been able to get through to him before. He couldn't change who he was, not by himself, but he didn't want to be changed. Ray had no desire to turn out mad and blinded by his lust for revenge. He had a new life here at the Temple of The Way. Perhaps it was time he started making the most of this new chance, this fresh start the gods had seen fit to give him.
A faint smile creased the edges of his lips. How strange that the Rogue of the Guild of Assassins, a girl famous for her ill temper, should be the one to help soften him up. Him! Ray Crisp: hot head extraordinaire. Maybe when this was all over, and the Silver Sword was defeated – Ray was in no qualms about this; nothing and nobody could make him believe that Kurt, Kitty and the Rogue weren't going to 'kick the old fart into orbit' – maybe then the trio of heroes would return to the temple and he could get to know the Rogue better. Who knew? Perhaps there was even a future for them as a couple. The notion wasn't entirely disagreeable.
After all, stranger things have happened.
It was because of these daydreams that he failed to notice the scratching. Not that it was particularly noticeable, but had he been paying attention he might have been able to raise the alarm sooner. It was an odd sort of noise; like nails on a chalk board, or the scrabbling of a dog's paws as it tries to clamber over a large rock at the beach.
It wasn't until the noise became loud enough to be considered obvious that Ray finally noticed it. The rustle of clothing and a faint 'thump' on the floorboards of the watchtower made his eyes snap open with a curse at his own laxness. He whirled around to see what had made the sound.
All he saw was night sky, silent and dark. Glittering stars speckled in the easily visible distance. It was a clear night, crisp and cold despite the season. No sound was evident, save for the chirping of insects, and Ray walked to the edge of the tower to make sure he wasn't imagining things.
As he peered curiously over the edge, another noise reached his ears – a grunt, like an animal, coming from behind him. He spun on his heel, but it was too late. A figure loomed out of the dimness. There was a flash of claws, a spurt of blood, and Ray crumpled. He was dead before he even hit the floor.
For a second there was silence. Such was the suddenness and swiftness of the attack that the world seemed to have stopped as it caught up with events.
Then a shadowy figure oozed from the dark corner of the tower where it had lain in wait. It clicked its fingers, and at once there was a 'whoosh', as three identical grappling hooks attached to taunt ropes snaked their way up the wall. They latched onto the edge of the watchtower, clinked musically for several seconds, and pulled to and fro by the weights they bore, until a trio of heads appeared over the rim. Darkness-clad bodies followed, rolled onto the floor and gathered up the subversive tools with barely a sound.
"C'mon," said the first. "We got work to do."
"But how will we know where to find them?" asked the smallest. "This place is huge, and we have only until the moons reaches the tower."
"I'll find 'em." The leader sped off along the battlements adjoining the tower, course unnervingly sure. The trio trailed in his wake without another murmur. They knew better than to question his judgment.
Alone in the darkness, the pathetic bundle was swallowed up by shadows, as the candle in his untended lantern burned low and guttered out. Only the night was left to mourn his passing; a silent witness to the first casualty of the night.
"And … go!"
Kurt leapt from the ceiling, dropping like a stone and vanishing in a cloud of sulphurous smoke before he hit the floor. A few seconds later he re-emerged on the back of the chair.
Yet he couldn't rest. With a curious whizzing noise, a blast of glittering light flew towards him. He'd barely Bamfed away when it struck the chair, shattering it to pieces. He materialized behind Jubilee, who still had her arms outstretched, and pinned her to the floor before she could turn and aim another attack.
"I win!"
"Urgnuh – get offa me you dumb elf!"
"I win!" Kurt said again, grinning.
"And if this were a real battle you'd be dead right now."
He looked down at his chest. A familiar hand jutted right through his ribcage. Swivelling his head, he saw Kitty's face at his shoulder. Her arm was buried up to the elbow in his back.
"Aw, Kätzchen, no fair." He grumbled, as she pulled free and he duly released Jubilee. "I was finally winning."
"You need to be more cautious, Kurt." Jubilee brushed herself off. "If Kitty had been a real warrior with a sword you'd have bought it big time. You know you - "
"Shouldn't count the battle won until it's truly over. I know." Kurt sighed, reciting the lesson Rogue had ruthlessly drilled into him. "But you could've let me win just once. I've 'died' more times than I can count today."
Kitty laughed, and Jubilee couldn't help but smile. It was difficult to stay annoyed with Kurt when he was practising his 'puppy dog eyes' routine. She let out a breath and scratched the back of her head.
They'd been practising for a couple of hours now, as the three of them had grown accustomed to doing whenever they had a spare moment. Kurt and Kitty were confident that Rogue's combat lessons were beneficial, but had requested near the beginning that they be allowed to practise alone, to hone their skills properly for the coming battle at Belvedere. Nobody had objected, and Jubilee had 'volunteered' to help them, and so had taken on the predictable role of 'bad guy', using her Changeling powers in mock-battles to help the pair train. Certainly, it seemed to be doing some good. Kurt's Bamfing was more accurate now, and he could get from one place to another without fear of injury from a shoddy re-entry.
She surveyed the shattered chair, sucking in air through her teeth. "That isn't going to go down well. I promised Initiate McCoy we'd be careful in here."
Kurt came to stand by her side. "Ach, you can blame it on me, Fraulein. I guess I should've moved sooner."
"Yes, you should. Think fast!" She turned, throwing her arms out and letting the flickering lights of her Changeling power gather around her fingertips.
She found herself aiming at nothing but a vile-smelling cloud. Letting her powers dissipate for a moment, she waved it away from her face - and promptly found herself flat on the floorboards with a furry mound sitting on her back.
"Thought faster."
All three of them giggled, glad of a respite from the recent gloom. Kitty's shoulders shook as she covered her mouth politely, eventually giving up and throwing back her head to laugh at the expression on Jubilee's dusty face when Kurt finally let her up. Their chuckles hung in the air, creating a friendly glow that warmed the room and the hearts of those in it.
So it came as a double shock when the door suddenly banged open and a cloaked figure strode purposefully in. The laughter caught in their throats as they realised whom it was.
"Rogue?" Kurt said in surprise. "What are you doing here, aren't you meant to still be rest… Fraulein, why are you wearing your armour?"
"The temple's going to be attacked," Rogue said shortly. "And soon. A battalion from the Silver Army is already outside in the forest. Rahne spotted them."
"Oh, gods." Jubilee scrambled to her feet. "Does Ororo know?"
"No. She's at prayer." Rogue strode further into the room. As she came into the light they could see she was carrying two neat packages tied up with string. She tossed them to Kitty and Kurt.
Kurt caught his easily, but Kitty fumbled and hers fell to the floor, spewing its contents everywhere. She bent down and picked an item up.
"Breeches?" She looked up enquiringly. "What're these for?"
"To wear. I would've thought that was obvious."
Kurt glanced at his somewhat dirty pink robes and then up at Rogue, suspicious. "What're you planning?"
Rogue sighed. "Look, the Silver Sword's attacking the temple because we three are here. If y'ever needed convincing that we're the three Soul Carriers, then I think this qualifies. He wants us out of the picture 'cause we're dangerous to his plans, so he's trying to wipe out the whole place. Jean reckons he would've done it anyway because of all the gathered Changelings, but the fact remains that he's sent an entire troop of soldiers to flush us out and put paid to us as a threat. Jean found out where y'all are telepathically so that I could come get you and get to work."
"Get to work?" Kurt looked more than a little puzzled at the large influx of exposition. "Ich verstehe nicht. I don't understand."
Rogue faced him, a strange light in her eyes. "This place and the people here have been more than accommodating to us, and all we've done is bring that lot down on them. It ain't fair, so I think it's time to repay our debts. We're gonna help defend the temple. Jean's already sending out messages to all and sundry that any able-bodied person who can fight – Changeling or not – should get ready to do battle. I believe we qualify."
"What about those who aren't able-bodied?" Jubilee queried, helping Kurt unravel his new clothing, since he was finding it difficult with his thicker-than-average fingers.
"Everyone else is to gather in the Great Hall. There's a group being set up to man the doors just in case, but everyone else is to get to the battlements. We're gonna stave 'em off from there, not even letting 'em get a sniff at inside the walls."
"So what's with the clothes?" Kitty held up a green jerkin.
"I thought it'd be easier to fight in them instead of those damn dresses." Rogue pulled a face, not noticing when Jubilee glared at her. "The seamstresses had already made them, so it made sense to take advantage of the offer. Hurry up now and get dressed. This ain't no time to be worried about your dignity, Shrimp."
To Kurt's astonishment, Kitty added her voice in agreement. "She's right, Kurt. There are lives at stake here, and if we're gonna make any difference in this fight then we, like, gotta be where the action is."
Dumbly, he nodded and began stripping off.
Jubilee turned to face the wall, cheeks reddening at the brief glimpse she caught of his furry chest. It wasn't a new sight, since she's gotten a full view of him topless when he first arrived, but now that she knew him better it just seemed wrong to watch.
Another voice stopped them all in their tracks. All four looked to the doorway where a willowy figure stood.
"You will not be joining the battle this night," Ororo said calmly, stepping into the room. "This is our fight, not yours."
"Ororo, you're back from your prayers," Jubilee exclaimed needlessly.
Rogue was a little more cutting. "And why not?" she demanded. "It's the least we can do after all you've done for us."
Ororo shook her head. "You will help us much more by not fighting. We need you three alive. That is how you may do the most good. There's little you could do to turn the tide here anyway."
Kitty bit her lip. "But Ororo, we can't, like, just abandon you to them. We want to help."
"Then get to Belvedere and defeat the Silver Sword."
"Look, lady - " Rogue looked ready to challenge Ororo's ruling, but the older woman halted her with a strange look.
Had he not have known better then Kurt could've sworn her eyes seemed somewhat paler than usual, almost like a film had crept across them.
"Rogue, you of all people know that we are more than capable of defending this temple. Our home. We have a few aces up our sleeve the Silver Sword hasn't counted on." She smiled knowingly, expression incongruous to the situation.
Rogue titled her head, regarding her oddly.
In a movement that surprised and astonished them all, Ororo did something that none of them had ever imagined her doing. She winked.
Rogue started. A small sigh of resignation escaped her lips, conveying that she wasn't at all happy with the state of affairs. She nodded.
Ororo acknowledged this with a small incline of her head. "You will leave the temple tonight – Kurt, Kitty, Rogue. I have already taken the liberty of notifying the Head Cook. His team prepared rations for your journey before going to the Great Hall. You will change your clothes and then collect them from the kitchens. Jubilee, you must help them make their escape. No doubt, by the time you are ready to leave the Silver Army will have begun their assault. It is imperative that you three get away from here now, while there is still time."
"But… but…" Kurt stuttered. It went against every moral fibre in him to simply abandon the temple residents. From his days there, he knew that few of their number had what could be considered offensive powers. Many were elderly or very young. They couldn't fight or defend themselves. How could he just leave them to – probably – die?
"Shut up, elf!" Rogue snarled.
Kurt stared at her, stunned.
"She's right. The best thing we can do is get to Belvedere and take care of that two-faced son of a jackal. Unless we do what we're supposed to, the Silver Sword'll do this to all of Earth-Realm. He's poison. Best thing to do to poison is suck it out of your system before it can do any damage – get rid of it, quick like. So shut up and get changed. We're leaving."
Kurt and Kitty averted their eyes and removed their robes, which they had become so accustomed to recently as to regard them as their 'proper clothes'.
Both were soon decked out in similar outfits. Kitty noticed with some irony that for the first time in her life she was wearing male clothes. It chafed a bit more than she'd thought it would, but was comfortable enough. She could move around without fear of ruffling her skirts too high and exposing herself, or else tripping over the hem when she tried to walk too fast. It was liberating, but she had little time to savour the small victory so long in coming.
Ororo held out one fist and one open palm. On the palm sat a small scroll, bound tight with a faded cranberry ribbon. From the other hung three wooden amulets attached to leather thongs. Each was carved with a strange symbol daubed in black ink. They swung back and forth like pendulums as she gestured with her fist.
"These are gifts for you three. They're talismans, each with its own particular meaning and significance. They're always given to visitors when they leave, and I hope they'll bring you good fortune on your quest." She passed one to Rogue, who was closest. "This is the sign of Konokim, the god of Knowledge."
The symbol was like a child practising handwriting. Wobby and neat by turns, an unbroken line looped around itself like a serpent eating its own tail while performing advanced meditation techniques.
"And this," Ororo handed another to Kitty, who studied it intently, "is the sign of Clemencia, goddess of Healing. It's also reputed to keep the bearer in good health."
It was not something Kitty would have worn by choice. The black splodge in the middle looked a little like an oak leaf, but the specks around it looked like the spots Initiate Ashari made on her parchment when she shook her quill to make it work.
"And finally," Ororo placed the last talisman into Kurt's hand, "this is the sign of El-Caminar, god of Pathways and patron of safe journeys." She stepped back. "They're not much, but I give them in the fervent wish that they might lift your spirits and believe that the gods are watching over you."
Kurt studied his talisman closely. Then he looped it around his neck to dangle against his chest. His was by far the clearest image of the three – a country path with a tree towering over one side, winding away to a distant horizon.
Rogue gave Ororo a penetrating look, but the Temple Mother turned away and offered Jubilee the scroll.
"For you, child, I have something quite different. Since it is your job to help these three to safety away from our walls, I have concocted this to aid you in your task. Don't open it now. When the time is right – that's when you'll know what to do."
Jubilee reverently took the parchment. "Thank you, Temple Mother," she breathed. "I won't fail you, I promise." She hugged it to her chest, just managing not to squash it.
Ororo smiled, but looked profoundly sad as she surveyed the four youngsters. "Now, go. And whatever you do, don't look back. You may want to with all your hearts, but please, do not look back once you are free of here. Be swift, and may the gods go with you."
Rogue bent her head. "Let's go." She started off without looking at Ororo, or even looking back to make sure the others were following.
Kurt was still trying to voice his revulsion at what they were doing, but the words refused to come out. He, Kitty and Jubilee trailed meekly after Rogue, but as soon as they were free of the room his voice came back and his complaints echoed down the corridor.
"But we can't just… Fraulein, don't walk off! How can you just abandon the temple like this? I know we're important, but it still doesn't feel right just leaving them. We should stay. They need us. How're they supposed to win the battle alone? Rogue? Rogue! Beantworten Sie mich das! Answer me that!"
He stumbled and nearly toppled over backwards when she rounded on him and pressed her face into his. Rogue's eyes glowed fiercely. She snarled at him with all the raw savagery of an untamed beast.
"The temple. Will be. Fine. Ororo'll protect it. There ain't no way those soldiers are getting in here with her around."
"How do you know?" Memories of how close she'd come to murdering him when they first met resurfaced in Kurt's brain. His Adam's Apple bobbed nervously. "She's just one person. How can she defend an entire temple on her own?"
"Because she's a -" Rogue bit down on her tongue, hard. The coppery tang of blood lit her mouth. She glanced back to where Ororo stood at the doorway, watching them with unreadable eyes. Should I say it? she wondered. Will I be punished for revealing a secret that's not mine to reveal?
Ororo blinked, and then dipped her head a fraction of an inch.
Rogue looked back to Kurt. Golden eyes full of defiance glared back at her, but she ignored their vehemence.
She suffered one last pang of uncertainty. A killer she was, but she respected privacy, and recognised the magnitude of the secret she was about to shatter – the illusion she was wiping away with a word. Was she doing the right thing? Was it her place to say? This was Ororo's question of identity, and as a former assassin, Rogue still laid a great weight on identity. To her, what she was about to say wasn't some mere titbit for old gossips to chew along with their tobacco. It was enormous, bearing more significance than she could ever make these… these innocents understand.
"Well?" Kurt glowered, not really expecting an answer but refusing to let it go.
Rogue clenched her teeth. "Because… she was a goddess!" She spun on her heel and marched away.
Kurt gaped after her, mouth opening and shutting. Somehow, he thought he should've been more surprised, but it made a warped kind of logic, really. A subliminal kind of sense – yes, that was it.
The conversation he'd had with Jubilee in the Great Hall on his first day. Images of mage crystals, magical staffs and excess energy flew into his brain, cluttering around until they screamed at him, 'It's true, you idiot! You know what she's saying is true! Accept it and get on with things, or you won't be around much longer to get on with them!' The voice sounded disturbingly like Rogue's.
Reeling slightly from this outburst by his id, Kurt blinked and tottered after the retreating figure.
Kitty and Jubilee exchanged looks and traipsed after them in silence, disappearing down the corridor towards the kitchens.
Ororo watched them go. A few short words made their way to her lips. "Stay safe, little ones," she whispered. "May my father's strength go with you."
She went in the opposite direction. She didn't look back, striding to where she knew she was needed most. A change in the atmosphere, some electric surge along her skin, told her that something was afoot. It would have been obvious, even if she hadn't already known of it. She quickened her step in accordance.
"Father, help me this night. Help me to protect my children. Please." Her murmurs were feverish. "Give me the power I need. Give me… give me the strength to wield it once more."
Her answer came in an unnatural wind, which buffeted and tugged at her hair as she hurried along. A ghostly voice slipped along the corridor like some spirit fleeing the Reapers, twining in and out of her ankles and spinning a web of barely audible speech her footsteps crashed through.
"I hear you, my daughter… I hear you…"
Rogue marched into the kitchens with barely a glance. There was no need for her to look around; her senses had already told her that the place was deserted. A faint trace of cinnamon perforated the air, along with freshly baked bread and the warmth of recently deceased ovens.
The kitchens were just as she'd expected – roomy, obviously designed for working in, but empty and insincerely cold without more people and bustle to fill them.
Kurt followed her in, accompanied by Kitty and Jubilee. Kitty goggled at the sheer enormity of the place. Being the only one who hadn't seen them before, and the only one who cared enough to savour their bare grandeur, she stood for a moment, simply drinking in the sight. They were certainly magnificent. Famous throughout the temple's varied and well-travelled inhabitants as home to the best dishes ever tasted, there was a certain opulence imbued in the most mundane utensils and work surfaces she'd never seen before. The kitchens were full of deep and tasty memories.
Kurt's nose was working busily, catching fleeting aromas like a toad snares flies, and drinking them in like they were the elixir of life. This eventually led him to a far wall, where three bulging satchels were neatly stacked. Obviously, the cooks hadn't wanted them to go without due necessities.
"Over here. I've found them."
"Good." Rogue was at his side in an instant, swinging the satchel over her shoulder with grace akin to a lethal sylph.
Kurt jumped back in surprise, but saved himself from Bamfing away in a panic. He didn't want to embarrass himself with his cowardliness.
"Now we can get out of here," Rogue said. She picked up the other bag and tossed it at Kitty. "Shrimp! Catch!"
Kitty did, congratulating herself on not dropping the package this time. "Where to now?" she asked, swinging it over her shoulder.
"Out," Rogue replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And fast. We ain't got no time to lose. Battle's already started."
Jubilee, who had until this point been silent, jerked her head up. "What makes you say that?"
Rogue seemed puzzled, forgetting for a moment that none of them shared her innate training concerning these things. "Can't y'all tell? The air's changed. The tension's broken. That can only mean that the Silver Army's attacked already, which'll make our escape even more difficult." She grunted. "We may have to fight our way through their forces if they've got the temple surrounded. But I suppose we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it. Hurry up, Elf, we ain't got all day."
Kurt was crouched on a tabletop and hastily stuffing cheese and bread into his mouth like there was no tomorrow. He shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, Fraulein, but all that practising really took it out of me. I need to re-energize or you know what'll happen, and I don't want to cut into my rations just yet."
"Yeah, probably better to, like, leave the building first," Kitty piped up. "Or else you'll have nothing left for later."
Rogue sighed, unable to argue. "Just be quick about it. The sooner we leave, the better."
Kurt gave her a quick salute, earning himself a pointed glare, which he duly ignored. Bits of cheese and bread flew in all directions as proceeded to consume what seemed like his own body weight in soft malted loaf and cheddar. There was a pitcher of water nearby – whether by coincidence or design. He took hearty swigs from it to help things on their way. Eventually he sat back on his haunches, rubbing his stomach with a sigh, and burped.
Then he froze.
You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.
His tail lashed and his ears twitched, flicking backwards until they were almost pressed flat against his skull. Quick as a flash, he launched himself from the table and high into the air. Seconds later a large decorated dagger buried itself in the wood where he'd been crouching. It made a loud 'thunk' that echoed profoundly.
Kitty gave a high gasp. Both Rogue and Jubilee whirled to face the main door.
Kurt landed neatly on the floor and also looked, but there was nothing and nobody there. He frowned. Someone had definitely been there a second ago. Daggers did not just materialize out of thin air and try to kill you all by themselves.
Did they?
After the strange thing's he'd been witness to recently, he couldn't be sure of anything anymore.
His ears pricked. He could hear nothing, and his frown deepened. He whirled as a 'snikt' cut the air, but it was only Rogue drawing her sword. She was also scanning the darkened kitchens for signs of life other than their own, and the frown gracing her features told him she was having no luck either.
The entire scene fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the sounds of breathing and their own hearts thrumming against their ribcages.
Just to be on the safe side, Kitty focused her mind and accessed her Changeling powers, making her body incorporeal. There was no point in taking chances if daggers were flying around.
A tiny noise, no more than a mouse-scratch. In an instant Rogue had dropped into a roll and thrust her sword forward. The tip struck only space, and a terrible mocking laughter filled the air. Everyone shivered. Such horrible noise was the stuff of nightmares; a hideous parody of what laughter should sound like, mixed up with the screams of all Seven Hells combined.
"Who's there?" Rogue demanded, standing up and stepping backwards towards the group. "Show yourself!"
All she received was laughter in return.
Her face became a mask of anger.
Abruptly, the laughter stopped. The silence that followed was deafening.
"Show yourself!" Rogue said again. "We ain't got no time for games!"
"Oh, but this is far more than a game." A gruff voice leaked from the shadows, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. "Far more," it chuckled nastily.
Rogue blinked. There was something horribly familiar about that voice, and yet… it was frighteningly alien, like nothing she'd ever heard before.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "Show me!"
"Don't you know?" the voice asked. "I'm surprised at you. You've got sloppy, girl. What would Logan say if he could see you now? Mixing with non-assassins – pah! You're worse than you were the last time I saw you!"
She did know that voice – she was sure of it; the reference to Logan said that much – but how and where remained tantalizingly out of reach. It had changed too much for her to pluck the time out of the air. She stalled, trying to figure it out in the hope the information would give them the edge.
At the back of her mind, she was faintly surprised that the voice hadn't attacked again. He obviously had the upper hand, but seemed to enjoy toying with them.
"You know Logan? Were you an assassin once?"
"Once and always," was the cryptic response. "Although now my allegiances are a little … different."
"You serve the Silver Sword, then."
"In a way. He helped me reach my true potential, and so my life now belongs to him. I am his servant, and carry out his orders as if they came from the Council of The Guild themselves."
Rogue scowled. "Who are you? Tell me."
The mocking laughter again, and a flicker of movement to her right. She spun, as did everyone else, and watched as a particularly black shadow peeled itself away from the wall and into a patch of moonlight from a high window. Rogue's eyes widened as she beheld the speaker. First a single foot came forward, huge and tipped with claws covered in dirt and soil. Then came a body swathed in the same cloak as herself, only twice as large. Finally the head came into view, concealed beneath a deep hood. As she looked on in abject horror, he tilted his neck, shaking the cowl back and revealing what lay beneath.
Kurt stared. Both Kitty and Jubilee shrank back at the sight.
The speaker's face was awash with coarse brown fur that hung from angular contours that had obviously never been meant for such a pelt. The only things detracting from this were the wicked fangs indenting his lips as he smiled, and the amber eyes fixed so solidly on Rogue. Such eyes as have struck terror into the hearts of men since the dawn of time. Such eyes as seemed to penetrate deep into your soul with merely a glance, and rip out your heart by just looking at your chest. If Kurt was part demon, then this creature was all beast. The raw savagery dripped off him like water off a wet dog, and he smirked malevolently in their direction.
"Hello."
In an instant she knew who it was. Revelation drove into Rogue's brain like an arrow, piercing her skull with a sudden, brutal light. "Emilios?"
He smiled. "So, you do recognize me."
Kitty and Kurt gaped. From what Rogue had told them, the man known as Emilios was a weedy, rather pathetic person, made deadly only by his great hate and passion for violence. He was shrewd and insightful and cunning, and though these traits were clearly patent in the creature before them, there was nothing even slightly weedy or pathetic about him.
"What happened to you?" Rogue breathed incredulously, looking him up and down.
"I received what you might call an 'upgrade'. And just for the record, I go by a different name now – as do you, Rogue."
She winced at the spite in his tone.
"I am no longer Emilios the Savage. He is dead. I am The Sabertooth, and you are my prey, by order of both the Guild Council and The Silver Sword. You certainly have been making enemies for yourself recently, haven't you?"
Rogue's grip on her sword handle tightened. "You're the hunter sent to track me down," she surmised.
Sabertooth nodded.
"Though I wasn't without help."
At once, three other shadows detached themselves from the gloom at different points around the kitchen. Rogue regarded them stoically, taking in the gleam from their already drawn blades and their positions with regards to the exits.
"Four against one. Just your style, Emilios."
"I think you'll find my 'style' had altered dramatically since we last met." He flexed his claws and grinned. "And it's not Emilios anymore, remember? You really are very slow on the uptake, aren't you?"
Rogue's teeth gritted. She brought her sword out in front of her. "I've changed too, Emilios."
"So I see. Abandoning your kind for humans and the Silver Sword's mistakes. Bit of a lateral move if you ask me. But then again, you never did have the kind of commitment The Guild was after. Logan boasted about you so much. Always bragging, even with half a dozen pints down his neck. Practically said you hung the moon, you little whelp. But when everything's said and done, you're really nothing. A nobody. Useless, miserable, nothing. Not even fit to lick my toes."
A thought crossed Rogue's mind. Her face suddenly shifted from merely angry to deadly. When she spoke, her voice was flat, as she remembered the circumstances under which she'd last seen Emilios the Savage. "Where's Pietro?"
Sabertooth threw back his head and laughed. "In safe hands, Rogue. In the safest of hands."
"Logan told me he's at Belvedere. Did you take him there?"
"You've seen Logan?" All the humour evaporated from his voice. "I knew it. I knew he was still alive. They didn't believe me, but I knew he'd escaped. Damn Pebehock!"
Rogue took a meaningful step forward. "Where. Is. Pietro?"
Sabertooth looked down his nose at her. "Not with you. And he never will be again. You've lost him, Rogue. And to tell you the truth, you never really had him. He was always mine. And now he belongs to another, who os also not you."
With a heated cry Rogue started forward, but found her elbow caught and yanked backwards. Turning her head, she found herself staring into worried gold eyes. Kurt gazed pleadingly at her.
"Bitte, Rogue, don't. You'll be killed."
She pulled her arm away, conscious of Sabertooth's mocking stare that such a puny wretch of a boy could restrain her. however, Kurt stayed latched on like a furry blue limpet.
"Get away from me, Elf. Let me go. He's mine!"
"Nein! Fraulein, please listen to me. You said it yourself – we have to get away. Nothing else matters, not even him." He jerked his head at the towering behemoth of fur and malice, who seemed quite content just to watch them and not make a move at present. "Please, Rogue. Please."
Rogue looked at him, at the plea written in his eyes. He seemed so pathetic. He was counting on her. All of Earth-Realm was counting on her. Pietro was counting on her to get to him. Was she going to be sidetracked by an old hatred when so much rested on her shoulders? On one hand was her grudge against Logan's old rival, against his attempted murderer. On the other hand was Rei-Shima and the boy she loved.
She was torn, and she knew it.
Perhaps she would've said something, but at that moment they were interrupted.
"Ah, the halfling." Sabertooth snickered, eying Kurt with a cruel twinkle. "I was hoping to find you here. It seems the gods are smiling upon me recently. Everything's going my way."
Kurt glanced fearfully at the assassin, but Rogue placed herself in front of him and glared back. "You leave him alone. Your fight's with me, Emilios, not him."
Sabertooth shook his head and wagged one claw-tipped finger. "No, I'm afraid you're wrong there, Roguey. My orders are very specific – kill you and the other two Soul Bearers. And unless I'm very much mistaken, that fuzz-ball is a Soul Bearer and the Silver Sword wants him dead. An order I'm only too happy to comply with." He smiled, running his tongue over razor-sharp fangs.
"You disgust me," Rogue spat. "Taking orders from a monster like him. Where's your honour? Where's your pride?"
"My honour lies with my master. A fact that you shunned a long time ago. And as for pride, I take a great pride in my work. Which is why I have something for the little halfling."
"Don't take it," Rogue hissed without even looking at Kurt. "Whatever it is, don't take it."
"Oh, he doesn't have to take it from me." Sabertooth reached beneath his cloak to where something hung from the belt at his waist. "I'm only too happy to give it freely to him. Been keeping it as a memento, actually, but I think he'll appreciate it more."
Sabertooth casually removed a sizable bag tied with a leather thong, holding it out in front of him and pulling the ties from it. Yet he didn't open the bag. Instead, he waited a moment, reading the tense anticipation on all of their faces. He regarded the two females standing behind Rogue and the halfling. Both were pretty enough, and seemed scared of him. His smile widened. He liked his women scared. Perhaps he would have a little fun with them before he ripped out their throats.
"Enjoy." He hefted the bag into the air, letting it smack down a few feet in front of them.
Because there were no ties holding the pouch shut, it flew open when it hit the stone flags of the kitchen floor. The contents contained escaped on impact, rolling free and coming to rest right at Kurt's feet.
Kurt stared at it, horrified. His stomach lurched. He struggled to keep his feet, as a sudden wave of nausea overtook him. A retching whimper permeated the air, and after a few seconds he realised it was his own, making him sound exactly like the child he felt like inside. All his defences, all the carefully constructed softenings he'd set up since joining with Rogue were ripped down in an instant, leaving him emotionally naked and in pain.
Staring back at him, sunken and dead, were the white eyes of Raven the Dark. Mystique the Seer.
His mother.
Her lustrous hair was lank and brittle, splayed out around her like some sickening halo. Her skin had taken on a taunt, gruesome pallor, and the inevitable decay was plain. Flakes of dried blood were scattered where she'd bounced, but it was her expression that truly contorted his insides. Etched into her face was nothing but pure, unadulterated terror. The kind of terror reserved only for nightmares and pain eternal. The fear of harm promised to a loved one. The fear of death. The fear of fear itself.
She gazed at him solidly, lifelessly. Her head cut from her body and kept as a grisly souvenir by the one who'd murdered her in his quest for vengeance. The one who'd framed Rogue and removed any hope Kurt had ever had of returning home again. The one who'd slain his only family.
Sabertooth.
Kurt's legs buckled. He slumped to the floor. Kitty dashed forward, switching to her solid form, and knelt beside him. He leant against her, shuddering as grief-stricken sobs wracked his body, all the time unable to keep from looking at the partly decomposed remnant of his mother.
His mother.
"M… Mutti…" he wept inconsolably. "Meine… Mutti… w… why…?"
Kitty stroked his hair, pressing him to her and trying to force his face away from the macabre sight. But it was no use. Kurt wouldn't – couldn't – look away. Some part of him disallowed him the right, and he gazed into those unresponsive white eyes as if he expected them suddenly to blink, the frozen mouth to twitch into a smile and whisper comforting words to her little boy like she'd done when he was just a baby.
Eventually it was too much. Raven's severed head, the food he'd eaten, the stress of crying too much; all of it gathered in Kurt's stomach. He gagged, shuddered, and vomited all over the floor.
Kitty disregarded being splattered, instead hugging him closer and shushing him gently as they rocked back and forth to the tune of his continuing sobs. She felt tears come to her own eyes, but blinked them away, trying to be strong for his sake. Trying to be the staff to hold him up as he struggled.
And then another sound joined them. The harsh mocking laughter that had oozed from the shadows, but now tinctured with a disgusting delight at the pain and hurt inflicted without even having to lift a finger. Sabertooth laughed loud and long.
Kurt's head came up. Tears streamed through his fur and down his cheeks, but his eyes flashed with an inner fire nobody had ever seen before. For the first time in his life, Kurt hated. He glowered at Sabertooth with nothing but loathing, and fangs jutted from his mouth as he finally found his voice.
"Sie Bastard!"
Before Kitty could do anything, he'd wrenched from her embrace and launched himself at Sabertooth, eyes flashing and teeth bared in a show of ferocity that betrayed his demonic roots. She pitched forward, reaching out after him with a desperate cry.
"No, Kurt! Stop!"
Her shout fell on deaf ears. He was deaf, blind and mute towards anything but the laughing monster who'd ripped away the only family he had and ground it into the dust with his foot, even going so far as to defile his mother's body after he'd already murdered her.
Sabertooth watched him with glee, not moving from his spot. Instead he folded his arms and waited for the screeching elf to arrive.
Kurt was mere inches away when another dark form darted in front of him. He didn't even see the butt of the sword coming until it smashed into his jaw, knocking him backwards to land awkwardly on his side. He skidded a few feet, looking up to see the gleam of silver as the same sword arced down toward him with unavoidable speed. He didn't even have time to Bamf, and cold dread washed through him, creating a bitter tang in his mouth.
There was a clang of metal striking metal, and another figure was abruptly standing over him. Rogue's sword locked with the other assassin's, their faces almost touching and arm-muscles juddering as each tried to force the other back.
As if this were a starting bell, the battle began in earnest.
A small assassin flew towards Kitty, who was still getting up from the floor. She turned an instant before he reached her, throwing up her hands fruitlessly against his attack. Yet he never struck, because a blast of colourful lights slammed into his chest and threw him back against the opposite wall with a sickening thud. He slid down and crumpled in a mindless heap on the floor.
Jubilee grasped Kitty's arm, hoisting her upright whilst her own hands still glowed with the aftermath of her attack.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," Kitty replied, scanning the room. "But where's Kurt?"
Her question was answered as a familiar blue shape materialized on a nearby worktop, neatly avoiding a knife thrown by the last assassin in Sabertooth's group. The killer's cowl had come down, revealing a nut-brown face set with deep frown-wrinkles and serious hazel eyes. He scowled at Kurt, charging forward with sword drawn and a determined yell.
But Kurt wasn't interested in such small game. He had eyes only for Sabertooth, and nimbly dodged the onslaught in favour of speeding headlong towards the behemoth again. Along the way he had enough foresight to pick up the same knife that had been aimed at him, clenching it in his dexterous tail as he ran on all fours through the melee.
Had Rogue not been fully occupied she might have noticed this, but she had her hands full with her own opponent. Sweat beaded on her forehead, as she tried in vain to force him backward. Under other circumstances she might have had the upper hand, but her recent illness and lack of real practice were telling. She gritted her teeth and set her feet, throwing all her weight against him in the hope of toppling him backwards, or at least freeing her blade long enough to use it.
As they struggled, her opponent's hood slipped and Rogue recognised the face beneath – Salfos the Strong. They'd been sparring partners a few times when she was still in The Guild, and had certainly lived up to his title back then. However, if she remembered rightly, he'd always made the mistake of relying too heavily on his muscle, and didn't have nearly as much speed as other assassin's his age. She prayed this was still the case.
Twisting her sword sideways, she pulled back, slightly releasing her blade from the deadlock it was in. Salfos hadn't been expecting such a move. He was carried forward, off-balance enough that Rogue could easily stick her foot out and kick his feet from beneath him. Salfos went sprawling, and Rogue darted forward with the intention of pressing her blade into his throat.
A deep roar from above snagged her attention, and a great shadow fell across her as Sabertooth drove in for a sudden, devastating attack. With all her efforts focused on Salfos Rogue had left her back exposed, and the 'upgraded' assassin had readily taken the opportunity to attack her.
A screaming bundle of fur rammed into his face, latching onto his head with teeth as needle-sharp as his own. Kurt hissed as he scrabbled at Sabertooth's skull, scratching and biting viciously at any exposed area he could get at without being swatted off. Sabertooth snarled with frustration, trying to knock him away, but staggered backwards when the dagger in Kurt's tail jabbed into his shoulder.
Rogue looked on with horror.
"Elf, no!"
A dark movement appeared in the corner of her eye. She threw herself sideways, as a sudden searing pain lanced across her cheek. Salfos cursed, and Rogue knew that had she been a millisecond slower he would have skewered her head like a spit. She winced, feeling a trickle of blood run down her face. She had to be more careful and focus on what she was doing. What was is Logan had always said – always keep one eye on your prey? Well, this wasn't prey, but the sentiment was the same. Salfos was a dangerous adversary and not to be taken lightly. Yet somehow, she couldn't help her gaze from sliding left to see what was happening between Kurt and Sabertooth.
The Elf ain't no match for him. He's just too strong! I dunno if even I could take Emilios now. He's changed too much. He ain't even human no more.
Enraged, Sabertooth stretched up until his shoulders screamed and clamped his claws around the base of Kurt's tail. He yanked downwards, pulling the pest from his perch and slamming him against the floor.
Deep scores ran through the tender flesh on Kurt's hypersensitive tail. He squealed in pain, letting the knife slip to the ground. He rolled aside as a huge foot attempted to crush his skull, immediately leaping back to fasten onto Sabertooth's leg with his jaws. This elicited another roar, this time more of anger than hurt, and Kurt found himself kicked into the air like a rag doll. He landed squarely on Sabertooth's fist.
"Kurt!" Kitty screamed ineffectually, running towards him with Jubilee hot on her heels.
Their efforts were hampered by the assassin who'd previously attacked Kurt, when he rushed in to slash at them. Kitty had been so concerned with Kurt's fate that she'd neglected to return to her semi-permeable form, and a deep cut opened up in her forearm. She cried out, clutching her wound and stumbling backwards in shock. Jubilee tried to check her mad flight but was caught up in the stumble. The two girls fell heavily to the flagstones.
The assassin – whom Rogue absently recognised as Hariq the Skilful – pressed forward with a triumphant light in his eyes, and shifted his grip on his sword to plunge the tip straight down. He was aiming for Jubilee's heart, since her chest was the easiest to discern in the tangle of limbs. However, somehow through the confusion Kitty managed to grab her and activated her Changeling power just in time to let the blade pass harmlessly through them.
Hariq blinked, not expecting such a move. He stood like a blank statue as Jubilee wrenched one arm free and blasted him with another beam of coloured lights. The beam was as effective as ever, sending him flying backwards without his sword, which Kitty quickly extracted from the Jubilee's chest.
"Thanks."
"Now we're even," Kitty replied, releasing her wrist and letting her resume solid form.
Rogue wheezed as she was slammed backward into a table. Her spine screeched as it twisted the wrong way, but she couldn't right herself because of the blade pressed to her throat. Try as she might, she couldn't push Salfos off, and with every passing second his sword got that little bit closer to the vein where her lifeblood flowed. Her own sword was held vertically in front of her face, but the way things were going it was likely to be the one that slit her throat. It would have been ironic, had it not been so serious. She couldn't even reach for her dagger, since both arms were needed just to keep Salfos at bay.
Her eyes darted to where Sabertooth was approaching Kurt, but she could do nothing about it. Kurt wasn't moving. He looked very small and weak. She cursed verbosely at her own helplessness.
As if in answer to this, Kurt lifted his head. His nose was bloody, one eyelid already beginning to swell, and blood oozed from a cut on his cheek. Fire blazed along the length of his tail, but that was forgotten as he eyed the formidable bulk of Sabertooth coming towards him. Kurt spat a reddened tooth onto the floor, heaving himself upright and trying to stand. Instantly, his tail went from simple pain to inexorable agony, and it was all he could do to keep from blacking out.
A hand grasped the front of his clothes, yanking them up until they all but strangled him and hoisting him into the air. Kurt gagged, but could do nothing except kick empty space. The pain in his tail was all consuming. It made it impossible to do anything but think about how badly it hurt. The idea of Bamfing away didn't even occur to him. His mind was on fire.
Kitty and Jubilee dashed across the kitchen to help him, but found themselves beset upon by the two remaining assassins, who had regrouped and renewed their assault. Hariq leapt at Jubilee, narrowly avoiding another blast of her powers and slicing neatly through the flesh of her thigh with his dagger. Jubilee yelled as a damp red stain began spreading across the fabric of her robe, clutching at it wildly to staunch the blood-flow and firing her powers wildly.
Kitty was luckier. She saw the smallest of the assassins – which, by the power of elimination could only have been Pablo – before he struck, and threw herself aside as he rushed her. Pablo's sword hit only air, and he dropped into a roll to double back and attack again.
Kitty's wild leap had sent her several feet. Her shoulder connected solidly with a nearby cupboard, the contents of which spilled out over the floor. She looked up at the battle cry Pablo emitted as he charged again, and grabbed the only thing she could find, jabbing it upwards as he dove at her.
Pablo screamed and dropped his sword as if it was a red-hot coal. He stumbled backwards, leaving a trail of crimson splatters from where the kitchen knife had impaled his hand. The sword clattered to the floor, where Kitty scooped it up and held it out grimly before her. She'd been wearing her new clothes for less than an hour and already they were covered in blood and grime.
Pablo backed away, still holding his injured hand. The knife jutted savagely up and protruded from both sides, making Kitty feel slightly sick. Yet she knew enough not to give him the advantage of pulling it out and using it as a weapon against her. Not for the first time in this fight she thanked the gods for Rogue's combat lessons.
Suddenly, she caught sight of something beyond Pablo. Jubilee was backed up against a wall, and Hariq was advancing on her with his dagger drawn and dripping blood. The Underling's body seemed to be sagging, and Kitty noticed with horror that part of the lower half of her robe was soaked a deep scarlet. She remembered something about veins in thighs, and how they were like veins in necks.
Utilizing her Changeling powers, Kitty plunged forward and barrelled through Pablo. He tried to grab at her, but fell. She briefly saw how his forehead smashed against a table and he crumpled to the floor. There was no time to consider him, though. She uttered something akin to a war cry and ran full pelt at where Hariq had Jubilee cornered, making herself solid so her sword would be too.
The assassin turned an instant before she arrived, bringing up his dagger for her to run onto and spear herself. There wasn't even time to consider her next move. Kitty's speed was too great for her to avoid the dagger, and her eyes widened in alarm at her own foolhardiness.
It was then that Kitty did something she'd never even considered doing before. Her body seemed to take on a life of its own, and her mind became strangely clouded as combat moves she'd never learned flowed easily from her limbs. They executed themselves with perfect - if lethal - grace and timing. Her hands flicked the sword they held sideways, deftly parrying Hariq's blow. At the same time her feet took her the other way, and she wrenched the sword back and twisted it round before slicing downwards, taking off his hand with a single swipe.
Hariq shrieked in pain. His yell was abruptly cut off as Kitty's foot connected with his jaw. She wasn't strong enough to knock him out, but he staggered a few paces and looked on incredulously as she twirled the sword round, ready to attack him again.
If he was surprised, then Kitty was astonished. Never before had she performed such advanced fighting moves, nor been so harsh as to even think of cleaving off another person's hand. Some part of her brain told her that she should abhor what she'd just done, but another, stronger part informed her that it was the only way. Had the roles been reversed, it was doubtful Hariq would have shown any mercy, or that she would have lost just her hand.
One thing was for certain. If there had been any remaining doubt in her mind as to the existence of Rei-Shima's soul inside her, then now it had been well and truly erased. Where else could such clarity of mind have come from? Or the competence of swordplay she'd exhibited but never actually learned?
Kitty backed up a few steps to the wall and hissed over her shoulder.
"Jubilee, you okay?"
All she received in reply was a muffled moan. Kitty risked a quick glance. Jubilee's face was tight and pale, her breathing laboured – indicative the obvious agony she was in. She'd been reduced to clinging to the wall in order to stay upright. Kitty wasn't really given to swearing, but she muttered a vehement curse at the state the other girl had been reduced to in such a short amount of time.
Another angry cry – female this time, and all too familiar – caused Kitty to swivel her head and look beyond where Hariq was trying to staunch the blood from his severed hand with his cloak.
Rogue was still valiantly fighting Salfos, and the two appeared to be evenly matched. Yet this wasn't what had made Rogue cry out. Beyond them was something that made Kitty's stomach churn and her blood run cold.
Sabertooth was – to put it bluntly – beating Kurt to death. Kurt hung limply from his grasp, battered and bloody, with blows still raining down on him from the assassin's huge fist. Red sprayed into the air with every cunningly dealt hit. Sabertooth was strong, but he had lost of Emilios's talent for hurt. He didn't like to be denied his prey, and was making sure Kurt experienced the most pain he could before he died.
Kitty yelled, but could do nothing to help him. Jubilee was too badly injured to move, and though Hariq was wounded he was still a force to be reckoned with. He had pulled a phial from his belt and downed the contents – obviously some sort of powerful painkiller, since he was still on his feet. It was common knowledge that, unlike many warriors, assassins are taught from an early age to be ambidextrous, and as adept with a blade in one hand as the other. There was no way the two girls could get past him without risking more grievances, and it was plain from the look on his face that he wasn't going to allow Kitty passage without serious payback for the loss of his hand.
"Kurt! Kurt!" Kitty called furiously, but Sabertooth just kept right on hitting and gouging and cutting him.
Rogue gritted her teeth and summoned an inhuman amount of strength. Gasping with effort, she off Salfos off quickly rapped first his knuckles, then his skull with the butt of her sword. His weapon fell to the floor, closely followed by his body. Bleeding from a dozen different places, she then roared forward towards where the unfair beating was playing out.
Unlike Kitty, Rogue's flight wasn't so much headlong as it was swift. Logan's title had apparently also left its mark on her during her training. She sped low, aiming not for Sabertooth's upper body as he would've expected, but for his lower limbs, hoping to incapacitate him.
However, she hadn't counted on Sabertooth's 'upgrade'. Impossibly, he sensed her footsteps and turned almost casually to punch her in the face.
Rogue flew back several feet, crashing into a table – ironically the one Salfos had pinned her against – and toppling it over.
Sabertooth smiled. Flecks of Kurt's blood ran through his facial fur, giving him a demonic look. His pupils had narrowed according to his rage. Now they were mere slits, and the irises around them shone fiercely with the light of victory as he finally landed a blow upon the girl he'd come to destroy.
Rogue leapt to her feet, facing off against Sabertooth from behind the overturned table. Unceremoniously, he flung Kurt's limp body aside. Kurt bounced and rolled to a halt in an awkward position, eyelids fluttering faintly, but otherwise still. A groan escaped his lips, and a tremor ran through his muscles, yet he remained where he was, small puddles of blood pooling around him.
A snarl curled Rogue's lip. "Bastard!"
Sabertooth only smiled. He took one loaded step forward. He seemed quite unconcerned with his two fallen charges, and paid Salfos's unconscious body as much heed as he would a piece of dirt as he stepped over it. Spittle gathered at the corner of his mouth, and he nodded to himself.
A spark of uneasiness started in Rogue's breast. She wasn't sure she could take him, and the expression on his face clearly told of his plans for her and the others if she couldn't. She was staring death in the eye, and she could see her own reflection.
Without warning, Sabertooth thundered forward. Rogue brought her blade up, and managed to cut the palm of his hand, but he knocked it aside and tore the sword from her grasp altogether. She stumbled, sent off balance by the force of his pull. He took the opportunity to smash into her, shoulder first, and pin her brutally to the ground with his claws.
"Rogue!" she heard Kitty shout, but could think of nothing but air as her lungs were crushed under Sabertooth's immense weight. The world became a miasma of vague blotches, as she fought for air.
Sharp talons dug into her shoulders. The metal of her armour crunched and warped under Sabertooth's immense strength and weight. Warm breath blew into Rogue's ear as he lowered his head and whispered softly to her.
"So many big words, eh, Marie? But where are they now? Where did they get you? Pietro's gone. You failed him. And now you've failed all these others. So many broken promises. Lying little bitch. Time to die."
Gasping, Rogue squeezed a few words from her gullet. "Go…. to… hell!" And she spat in his face.
Sabertooth roared. He lifted one claw from her shoulder as if to rip her face clean off.
However, Rogue felt his weight suddenly ease off her a little as he arched his spine, scrabbling at his back. With her airway released from the stranglehold she gratefully sucked in a lungful of air, marvelling at how she could take something so deliciously sweet for granted every single second of every single day.
Sabertooth whirled round, snarling.
Kurt stood, wobbling and swaying, with his arm still outstretched and chest heaving. It was amazing that he was still conscious, but a strange light burned brightly in his eyes – a light akin to the one that had graced Kitty's as she hacked off Hariq's hand like a trained warrior. The knife he'd dropped earlier hadn't been thrown accurately, but was now buried deep in Sabertooth's shoulder.
Unfortunately, this lack of accuracy only served to send Sabertooth into a mad frenzy. He stood with a foot pressing down on Rogue's midriff, and reached down with one hand to yank her dagger from her belt. She tried to grab at it, but he stamped on her, crushing her belly so that she thought she'd burst, and once again emptying the pocket of air from her lungs. Were it not for her armour, she would have been dead.
Setting aside his preference for teeth and claws as weapons, Sabertooth took aim and pulled back his arm to throw the small blade deep into Kurt's heart. There was nowhere for Kurt to run, but it didn't matter since he was, at present, incapable of running anyway. He took one step and fell to his knees, too blinded by pain to even Bamf away.
Rogue couldn't fill her lungs in time to help him.
Kitty watched with horror, unable to get past Hariq without leaving Jubilee; unable to drag Jubilee along without injuring her further. "KURT!"
Sabertooth took aim, and -
A sudden explosion rocked the room. It blossomed around Sabertooth, catching him unawares and making the dagger fall from his claws.
Kitty glanced at Jubilee, but she was just as surprised as everybody else at the blast. There was no telltale glow around her hands, either.
Sabertooth's cries echoed around the kitchen, but nobody made any move to help him – not even Hariq. He simply looked on, as much an awe-struck observer as the others. Nobody moved, nobody spoke – their very breaths seemed stilled.
But despite how violent the explosion was, it wasn't enough to subdue Sabertooth. The assassin rolled on the floor, dousing the flames that threatened to engulf him. His fur was singed, and gave off an evil-smelling smoke. Amber eyes cast around, searching for the cause of his unanticipated fire-bath.
His gaze fell upon something that made him snarl with anger, and everyone else gasp with wonder.
Kurt was slumped forward, but hadn't fallen on his face. A new figure was holding him up – a figure in magenta robes and livid mask. She glared at Sabertooth with unmodified fury.
Sabertooth blinked. "A new player in the game?"
Kitty and Rogue goggled, and as Jubilee forced her own eyes open a crack, she couldn't help her mouth dropping open in shock at who had sought them out and joined the battle.
"Nobody hurts my Kurt," Tabby growled. "Nobody!"
To Be Continued…
And now, even though they're looooong overdue, here are some Review Responses!
I hope the little titbits droppd in this chapter help you figure out more about Ororo, Quill of Molliemon. There'll be more featuring her in the next chapter. Um... 'soon' is a relative concept. Heh-heh.
Neither can I, Kitrazzle Fayn. I've grown to like Lance and Todd a lot more since I wrote this, but... nope. they're got other things to worry about.
Layer cake! Or not. Subplots are a wonderful thing. I'm pleased you think so, too, AerinBrown. Although they do have a tendency to take over the main plot, too. Little bleeders.
You're not paranoid, hootild. And no, those aren't people with guns behind you. Not in the least.
Yay! nice to hear from you, Skids. Although I did keep getting flashbacks to the old New Mutants/X-Force character when I read your name.
Hey there, koriaena.
Rogue, Kitty and Kurt will be on the road gain shortly, UnknownSource. They just have that pesky assassination plot to deal with first. Nothing much. Just your average everyday life-threatening peril. And you squee? I must tape-record that noise and use it for blackmail purposes...
You shall find out what Ororo's up to forthwith, Ashika, I promise. And, if I do say so myself, it's nothing to be sniffed at.
Hope to see y'all next time. And remember, when life gives you lemons... write Of Beast and Blade reviews with them!