the rivers
part three: the rivers
***
“What if someone does come?” Sparrow asked. “What if someone tries to attack the Chief? You can’t see them coming. They’ll surprise you, and kill you.”
The Eagle shifted, spreading his huge wings. “I cannot see,” he said, “but that does not mean I cannot hear, or smell, or feel the enemies approaching. No one is going to kill me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” the Eagle said, when he really just wanted to say no.
***
I.
Hank’s plane touched down, scattering snow, and the engines died.
We’re here.
Charles peered out the window, trying to see. Darkness hid the mountainsides, and the dim plane lights lit only a small patch of snow. Out in the mountains, he felt the buzz of dozens of minds, but he couldn’t touch or read them. He frowned.
Erik and Aliyah were already on their feet, dropping the ramp and prowling out into the gloom.
Do you feel anyone? Charles thought at Frost.
Her owl ruffled his wings.
Yes, she said, but I can’t touch them. I’m being blocked.
Charles nodded. I am too.
“The base is about a mile away,” Erik said, stepping back into the jet. He wiped snow out of his hair and Aliyah shook herself vigorously.
Is there anything else around? Iskierka asked. She left her human’s side and settled next to Aliyah’s head.
“Power lines, mostly. Water and sewage pipes. A satellite dish, and a helicopter down at the base.”
“So no other buildings?” Alex stood, adjusting his suit. At his side, Arinna’s eyes glittered brightly.
“No. Just two buildings. One appears to be a barrack, and the larger is most likely the testing site.” Anger made Erik’s voice tight and the fur on Aliyah’s spine spike up.
“So what’s the plan?”
Erik shrugged. Burn them all, Charles heard, and caught those slivers of angry guilt again.
He frowned. Iskierka?
“There’s seven of us, including Charles,” Erik said. “If three start on one side, and three on the other, we cover twice as much ground and don’t miss any rooms.”
Alex nodded, rubbing Arinna’s ears thoughtfully. Determination colored his mind. “I’m with you,” he said quietly, firmly. “Me and Banshee are with you.”
For a moment, Charles thought Erik would refuse. Aliyah’s fur bristled, and the plane shuddered, but then the moment passed.
“Very well. Emma, Azazel, you’re with Beast, then.”
Azazel muttered to his wolf in Russian, and Mortimer the owl clacked his beak, but neither argued.
The group of mutants stood, daemons stretching, flexing claws, baring teeth.
“I will get a little closer,” Charles said, calling Iskierka back to him. “See if there’s a device of some sort that’s blocking telepathy. If it’s just one device, I should be able to break through, but I need to see the base.”
Both Arinna and Aliyah growled unhappily, but Alex tugged his lioness’s ear and Erik put a hand over his tigress’s muzzle.
“Close enough to see the base?”
“Yes,” Charles said.
“But not closer.” Hard, flinty light gleamed in Erik’s pale eyes.
Iskierka shifted. Charles…
Hush, my dear.
“Not closer,” he agreed.
Magneto nodded. “We’ll find a place for you on the mountainside,” he said. “The base isn’t in a valley, exactly, but it is low enough we can find you somewhere to watch and not freeze to death.”
Charles smiled. “Shall we go, then?”
Aliyah growled and bounded down the ramp, tail swishing. Erik followed, and the rest went after him, leaving Hank’s warm, brightly lit jet for the bitter gloom of the mountains.
Snow crunched, and Iskierka hopped onto Charles’s lap, offering him warm feathers.
Thank you.
The ramp closed, and suddenly, the light was gone. Snow swirled around the group, and they muffled curses as they bumped into one another, reeling blindly.
“Stop moving,” Erik said, from somewhere ahead. Through the snow, Aliyah’s eyes gleamed faintly. The crunching stopped, and everyone stilled. “Flashlights?”
“Sorry, one second,” Hank muttered, right beside Charles. His claws clacked off the flashlights as he fumbled with them, and then pale, watery light bloomed, shining through the spinning snow.
“Good.” Erik was at the front, his tigress farther ahead, his face sharpened by the flashlight’s shadows. He turned on his heel, following after Aliyah, and the group struggled behind him, with Hank and Hesione taking up the rear.
It is a good thing I remembered to have Hank put some traction on these damn things, he told Iskierka, more to distract her than anything. She chuffed, and forced her feathers to lie flat.
Yes, I suppose it is. She didn’t say what they both felt; a gentle tug, pulling the metal chair through the snow.
Charles knew what she was thinking. We said we wouldn’t.
If we can’t get inside the compound, we’re going to have to, she argued. You can read his mind. You know what he’s thinking. He wants to destroy the whole place. Can you let him kill dozens of people? Even if they deserve it?
No, Charles said, because he couldn’t, not when he or Frost could just wipe the scientist’s minds and leave them alive.
We can help. We just have to get in there.
I know, he murmured, and his heart sank. He couldn’t get down a mountain, not by himself.
Azazel will flash you down, Emma Frost said, and Charles tried not to startle.
Well hello, he muttered, a little crossly. It is polite to announce yourself before browsing someone else’s thoughts, you know.
Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, Xavier. I’m trying to help you.
Charles met Emma’s eyes, and her owl hooted.
You know what I want to do?
Yes.
Why would you help me?
You care about him, sugar. The rest of us can’t stop him, if he loses control. You can.
Charles’s eyebrows rose, and Iskierka clacked her beak, mantling her wings. You’re worried about Erik losing control?
Intercision is close to him, Emma said, and pushed at his mind, warning him back. I don’t know what he’ll do. But he’ll listen to you. She smiled, and her owl leapt from her shoulder, soaring through the dark, swirling snow. So Azazel will get you, and flash you in.
Thank you, he said, and meant it, and Frost dipped her head and pulled back from his mind.
Iskierka lowered her wings. Well there you go. We have a way in.
Yes, Charles said, staring through the snow. But what will it cost us, I wonder?
The group continued to follow Aliyah, weaving through the snow, hunching against the rattling wind. The ground began to slope, and somewhere down below, faint, pale green light shone through the gloom.
“There,” Erik said, just loud enough to be a whisper over the wind.
Charles could see it now, a vague dark shape lit by rows of lights. The base was half-buried in the mountainside, protected by rocks and snow. The only way down was to fly, or be teleported by someone like Azazel.
He reached out again, now that he was closer, and tried to get through to the people inside. He felt individual people now, but all details were vague and blurred, crackling, like someone had thrown a staticky blanket over their thoughts.
“I can’t reach them,” he said, frustrated.
“We’ll look for anything that could block you, Prof,” Alex said. “Beast? You know what it could look like?”
Hank shrugged, Hesione scrambling on top of his head. “To block the whole base it’d have to be pretty big.”
Alex nodded. “So, destroy big machines. Sound like a plan?”
“Be careful,” Charles said. Iskierka left his lap, flapping to each of his students’ daemons, nudging them fondly. “Don’t get hurt.”
“Meet you here when we’re done,” Sean promised. “With Raven.”
Charles smiled. “I know.” He turned and looked Erik in the eye. “Be careful,” he repeated. Iskierka landed on Aliyah’s head, and the great tiger rumbled.
Don’t try and get revenge. Just get our people out of there. Emma and I will wipe the men’s memories. They won’t remember a thing.
Erik didn’t say anything. He only reached for Azazel, and Alex, and held Charles’s eyes.
Aliyah shook Iskierka loose and touched the white wolf, and then, in a red flash, they were all gone.
Charles felt them reappear for a second below, and then doors blew open, and they plunged under the staticky blanket.
He waited, watching the shadowy base, and Azazel and his wolf reappeared. The mutant offered Charles his hand, and the telepath took it, hanging on to the chair with the other, and Iskierka hopped onto Elvira’s back—
Red light flashed, and his stomach dropped, and then they were in a dim hallway, lights guttering above them.
“Don’t get yourself killed,” Azazel said. “Magneto would kill me.” With the smell of cinnamon, he was gone.
Charles swallowed, and tangled a hand in Iskierka’s smooth feathers. The blanket half-smothered him, but he was closer now, and he felt minds moving around him.
He stared down the expanse of hallway.
Well, my dear, he said. Shall we?
***
“Are you afraid now?” the Buzzard sang, drifting lower and lower. The Lion’s blood spilled out into the sand, and he choked and rasped through his ruined throat.
“Never,” he snarled.
The Buzzard laughed, and raised a sharp, wicked claw. “You sure?”
***
II.
Azazel dropped them off at the front gate, and vanished with the other three.
Alex swallowed, took a deep breath, felt the sunlight singing in his bones.
“Ready?” he whispered to Arinna. Her claws flexed, digging into the snow.
“Yes,” she hissed, and the light building in her eyes gleamed.
“Good. Hey, Banshee.”
Sean turned, and he bounced on the balls of his feet, clearly nervous, though whether it was the impending fight or Magneto right fucking there, Alex didn’t know. Eínin seemed to be okay, though, fluttering around Sean’s head.
Magneto stood slightly in front of the two younger mutants, head tilted back, gazing through the snowy darkness. His daemon prowled around all of them, growling softly, and Alex could feel power building, sliding like a knife along his back, making Arinna’s fur stand on end.
He didn’t like it, but he didn’t have a choice. Magneto set him on edge, but being there and tense and close enough to stop the guy if he got out of hand was better than not being there and having to pick up the pieces afterwards.
I’ll keep him in check, Professor, Alex thought. Arinna grumbled in agreement, her eyes never leaving Aliyah’s pacing shape.
Charles didn’t answer. They were under the blanket, then, and Alex reminded himself to blow up any big machines he could find.
“You okay, Banshee?” he murmured, low enough so Magneto wouldn’t hear.
Sean met his eyes, flexing his hands. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’m good. You?”
Alex grinned. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”
The two young mutants nodded, and Einín fluttered to perch on Arinna’s head.
For several minutes, the three mutants stood in the dark snow, squinting up at the base. Alex and Sean kept shifting from foot to foot, nerves and power stuttering inside them, but Magneto was very still, face unreadable.
It made Alex nervous, but he didn’t say anything.
Finally, Magneto raised both hands, and Aliyah threw back her head, opening her jaws wide—
Her roar punched into the side of the building, blowing metal inward and spilling light out into the murky snow. The wall writhed, chunks of concrete pulverized, and dust billowed. Inside Alex heard shouting and coughing, and he let warmth spread all the way down to his fingertips in anticipation.
Magneto and his tiger prowled through the wreckage, disappearing for a second, and that’s when the screaming started.
“Fuck,” Alex swore, and Arinna bounded ahead, clearing the rubble and roaring, echoing Aliyah. Sean took off, swooping inside, and Alex could only follow.
Inside, the light nearly blinded him. He saw Magneto and Aliyah up ahead, forging their way forward with careless swipes and fearless brutality.
Blood and dead-daemon dust swirled and splattered, and the people, scientists and guards, by the looks of them, choked and fell to the side.
He’s killing them!
“Alex!” Arinna roared, her fur flashing red. “We have to stop him!”
Havok focused, gathering sunlight, but it was hard to reach. He frowned. “Arinna, I can’t feel it—”
She roared, frustrated. “I can, but it’s hard, like I’m being blocked—”
Magneto flicked a hand, and wires rose to strangle, and blood slashed across the floor.
Fuck! “Push at it,” he choked, grabbing at the heat in his bones, pushing it, and finally, finally, in buzzed to life in his chest, and he hurled it at the ceiling; concrete and lighting collapsed, blocking a hallway and stopping five big, bulky men in their tracks.
One the other side of the rubble, Alex heard their daemons howling furiously, but he didn’t care. Magneto wouldn’t kill them. He’d done what he told Charles he’d do.
“Banshee!” Alex bellowed, above the shouting and screeching metal. “Hey! Can you feel your power?”
Sean ducked a man’s fist, and his face was flushed and frustrated. “Not really!” He tried to scream, but it wasn’t nearly as powerful as it could be, and the man only winced and kept coming.
“Push it!” Alex bellowed, forcing light up and out again, drawing lines of fire.
Banshee did, and this time his scream cracked lights and dropped the man like a rock.
“Good! Now go look for big machines! I’ll stay with Magneto!”
Sean understood and swooped off, knocking a few men down with a screech before Magneto could butcher them. Sean was good at destroying shit. He had this.
Havok fired off another three blasts, dropping ceilings and hurling men hard enough to knock them out but not enough to kill them. Arinna batted aside dogs, cats, snakes, and wolves, snarling fiercely, eyes glowing red-gold and sunlight fracturing in her fur.
“We’re falling behind!” she cried.
And they were—Magneto was nearly at the end of the hallway, Aliyah even farther, wading their way through destruction as more and more humans, this time armed with guns, rushed to meet him.
“Don’t!” Alex bellowed, trying to warn them off. Arinna!
“Stay away!” she roared, in her lion’s voice. Red light flashed down her spine. “Don’t fight!”
But the humans didn’t listen, and hurled themselves at Magneto and Alex like they were invincible.
Alex took them down and left them alive; Charles and Frost could mind-wipe them later. Magneto, though, didn’t, and the younger mutant turned back around just in time to see Aliyah roar and leap, claws outstretched, for a white tiger almost as big as herself—
She sailed over the daemon completely and hit its human square in the chest, claws digging in, and she sank her teeth into the man’s throat—
Oh god, Alex thought, and blood sprayed. Arinna howled, shocked, and pressed against Alex’s legs, and they only watched as Aliyah pulled her teeth out of the dying man’s throat and leaped at another.
They’re breaking the taboo! He thought, and his stomach heaved. That was—that was—
“How?” Arinna groaned, and pressed her head into his stomach. Alex grabbed her face and rubbed her ears, and his hands shook.
No one just shattered the taboo like that. No one touched another’s daemon like that, and no daemon touched a human who wasn’t their own like that, to kill—
So wrong, was all Alex could think, as he watched Magneto and his daemon tear through humans, who were turning and trying to run, now, but were caught by metal and tiger claws. How can they—Why are they—
Another man, his eyes wild with fear and hate, charged at Alex and tackled him, slamming him to the ground.
“Monsters,” he spat, and wrapped his fingers around Alex’s throat.
“’rinna,” Alex choked, lashing out, punching every bit of the bigger man he could reach.
His lioness coughed, staggered, and slashed the man’s jackal across the face; the man jerked his head to the side, grip slackening, and Alex surged up—
He grabbed at the sunlight, swearing because it was still hard to reach, and fired it, knocking the man into the wall.
His jackal yelped, and keeled over.
“Good job,” Alex muttered, and looked up. “Oh, shit.”
Magneto was gone. Swearing, the young mutant ran to the end of the hallway, looking down each turn. His heart sank. Blood marked the way Magneto had gone, but the ceiling was collapsed, blocking Alex out.
Shit shit shit.
“Go… around,” someone at Alex’s feet whispered, and blood gurgled from his torn throat. The man’s white tiger daemon howled, and pressed her face to his chest. “That way.” He pointed with a blood-soaked hand, and Alex nodded, uncomfortable, and ran.
“Don’t look,” Arinna whispered, as they raced away, and Alex didn’t turn to see the tiger collapse to dust.
***
“You can’t beat me now,” Man boasted. “I’ve taken everything from you!”
The Jaguar snarled, and his fur glowed moon-white. “You stupid little Man,” he said. “You’ve taken nothing from me at all.”
***
III.
“Come on,” the scientist snapped, and dragged Raven to her feet.
Her whole body protested, shivering, and Sirion whined, but she got her feet underneath her, and managed to stagger along after the scientist.
Behind them Riptide and Angel were pulled along too, groggy and miserable-looking, but alive, and aware.
Somewhere in the distance, screaming and shouting echoed off the walls, accompanied by thunderous bangs and the rattle-scream of shifting metal.
Magneto!
Raven grinned broadly at her teammates, and Sirion grumbled a soft growl.
Quetz stirred around Angel’s shoulders, and Riptide’s osprey, cradled in his arms, flexed her talons.
“Don’t even think about it,” the scientist snarled ,tightening his grip on Raven’s arm.
She glared.
“Take the others,” the scientist ordered, nodding at the guards. “We don’t have a Guillotine, but there are plenty of knives. Do it the old-fashioned way. Rip them apart.”
“No,” Raven hissed, reaching for them. Fear and fury swam in her eyes, burning away some of the grogginess, and she struggled.
Don’t, Riptide mouthed, letting himself be pulled away.
We’ll be okay, Angel added. Her daemon whispered in her ear, his tiny tongue flickering.
The guards pulled them around a corner, and then they were gone.
“Our friends are here,” Raven spat, struggling in the scientist’s grip. Sirion snarled, staggering from side to side, disoriented, exhausted by days of drugs and testing, but angry.
“I have enough time,” the scientist replied, and his face was still and cool. “Come.”
Raven pulled, and tried to flicker shapes, but the scientist only tightened his grip and dragged her on through the hallways, farther and farther away from the fighting.
Emma! Raven shouted, hoping the telepath would hear her. Emma! Where are you?
Emma did not reply, and the scientist shoved her through an open door into a huge, dome-shaped room.
Raven and Sirion staggered, forced into the very center of the floor, and the scientist prowled to a panel on the side. The room was enormous and dark, lined with flashing tools and control panels like a plane, and on a tray off to the side, several long, sharp silver knives gleamed. Raven didn’t like the look of them.
The scientist’s lizard daemon crept from under his shirt collar, blinking her beady eyes.
“My friends are going to kill you,” Raven said, and wound her fingers in Sirion’s brilliant white fur. And Magneto would, with a vengeance.
“My work will never die.”
Raven blinked.
“The mutant Magneto will kill me,” the scientist said. His daemon did not move. “But my work will live on.”
“We’ll take everything you have here.”
The scientist grinned. “The book is not here.”
Siri…
“What book?”
“The Book of Dust,” the scientist sang, and his face was alight with wicked, knowing glee. “The book of your kind, and the Dust that torments you, and how to save you from it.”
A book?
“You’ve talked about Dust before,” Raven said.
“See for yourself,” the man hummed, and flicked a switch. At once, the room began to creak and groan, the ground shuddering under Raven’s feet. The air sharpened, grew sweet and acrid, and her head spun.
Sirion roared, fearless even though his fur shook.
“Siri,” she gasped, reaching for him, and her daemon leaped, pressing huge paws to her shoulders and nuzzling her neck, purring softly, desperately.
“Are we going to die?” he whispered.
Her fingers shook. “I think so.”
“I’m sorry I never settled for you,” he murmured, eyes fierce and liquid and sad. “I know you wanted me to, but I can’t, I couldn’t—”
“Sirion,” Raven choked, and held him tight, so tight, like she was trying to pull him back into her soul, where nothing could hurt him again. “Sirion, it isn’t your fault.”
“It is—”
“No,” Raven said, and looked him in the eye. “No, Sirion. I don’t want you to settle. You’re perfect the way you are. Don’t ever stop, understand? You make me—”
She stopped. “Mutant. Mutant and proud.”
He laughed, and it splashed like a roar. “Yes. Mutant and proud.”
The creaking, groaning room quieted, and Raven braced herself for a death blow, holding her Sirion close. His fur was soft underneath her fingers.
Light, high above and brilliant, flared, and she heard the scientist hiss out a breath.
She opened her eyes.
Light hung around her in wavering, glittering strands, bright and flowing, weaving between her and her daemon, in them, around them.
It was beautiful.
The strands swirled, clouding around her, spreading out in shimmering rays, and the thick, brilliant strand connecting her heart to Sirion’s glowed.
“This is Dust?” she breathed. “Siri, it’s amazing.”
He roared, laughing, and flickered shapes experimentally, dog-bird-rabbit-cat-snake. With each change the ribbons of Dust swarmed around him and glowed white-gold, a cloud of shifting, swirling light.
Raven laughed and changed herself, diving through shape after shape, watching Dust grow and collect around her.
“How can anyone think this is wrong?” she breathed, running her fingers through the strands. She couldn’t feel them, but they parted for her, hanging around her like a blanket.
“They’re jealous,” Sirion murmured, still changing, and the Dust shimmered and shivered around him. “Look. He doesn’t have any Dust.”
Raven looked, and sure enough the scientist was Dustless, standing with his blinking daemon alone in the dark, while Raven was lit up with a hundred swirling strands.
The scientist eyed her, and in his hand he had a gleaming silver knife.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” the scientist said. “You’ve never known life without all this Dust clogging you up. You might think it’s pretty, and that it makes you special, but it isn’t normal.”
The knife—scalpel, she realized—gleamed. They didn’t have a Guillotine, but he said there were other ways.
“Yes,” he sang, waving the scalpel. His daemon stirred, twisting her shimmering head. “I don’t have a Guillotine, but all it takes is a cut. This will hurt more, of course. I wanted to wait. You have more Dust than anyone I’ve ever seen. But you won’t have to worry, after this.”
His eyes were absurdly soft.
“Is that what you told the others?” she hissed, and Sirion snarled.
The scientist shrugged. “Wouldn’t you like him to settle? He could even keep that shape, if you want. It is impressive.”
Raven looked down at her daemon. She loved this shape. He was beautiful like this, all grace and pride and power, sleek and strong, more beautiful than Mortimer, or Iskierka, or even Aliyah. She loved him like this.
But she loved his other shapes, too, the ruby snake, the golden monkey, the clever fox. Sirion was a beautiful jaguar, but he was a beautiful rabbit, too, and a hawk, and a dog.
She wouldn’t make him settle. He wouldn’t be her Sirion anymore.
Raven tangled her fingers in his fur, watching it shift white to black and back again. His claws grew and sharpened, scratching the floor, and the Dusts heaved around them, an ocean tying them together.
I will never let them settle you, she said to him, and he blinked fierce, shifting eyes up at her.
Then we’ll kill them, he growled.
The scientist straightened his spine, raising the silver scalpel, and his daemon grinned, revealing dozens of tiny, sharp teeth.
“Never,” Raven said. The Dust around her trembled. “I will never let you destroy us like that.”
The man sighed. “My daemon’s name is Cittagazzè. You will thank us, later.”
Don’t let him sever this one, Sirion said, flicking a clawed paw at the thick golden strand leading from his heart to hers.
I won’t.
The scientist raised his knife, and the Dust-light gleamed off the blade. “You will thank me,” he said, and charged.
***
“You must be very brave, then,” the Sparrow said, admiring.
The Eagle smiled bitterly. “Or very, very stupid.”
***
IV.
The hallways were deathly quiet, and it made Charles nervous. He could feel fuzzy minds moving in other hallways, and farther out his children’s and the Brotherhood’s, but still, the still hallway made his heart pound and Iskierka’s feathers stand up.
“I don’t like this,” he muttered. Iskierka took off, sailing down the hall, ducking into rooms. Even her mind was blurred to him, distant and hard to read. It was incredibly disconcerting, because she was his daemon—he was supposed to be able to hear her as clearly as he could hear his own thoughts.
At least she’s not closed off to me.
These are all empty, she said, her voice echoing inside his head oddly. There’s nothing here.
Keep checking, Charles pushed at her, fighting the crackling static in their connection. The sooner we find whatever is disrupting my telepathy, the sooner we stop unnecessary bloodshed.
And there was bloodshed, Charles felt it. Erik and Aliyah were tearing a path through the building, and minds winked out all around them.
Charles hated it. Rationally, he knew why Erik was doing it—vengeance, for those who had been severed, and that furious guilt the telepath could taste like saltwater swirling in Erik’s thoughts—but emotionally, morally, he hated it. If his telepathy was free, he could easily dip into minds and erase all the knowledge of mutants and intercision. No one had to die.
Charles, Iskierka called, breaking him out of his thoughts. A thunderous explosion rocked the base, and minds turned fear-white. There’s something here.
He immediately moved towards his daemon, into a room near the end of the hallway. It was dark, but cleaner than all the others, and a table with various mechanical tools stood pressed against the wall. Clearly, someone was using the room.
Here. Iskierka sat on top of a big, spinning machine. It looked sort of like a generator, and electrical wires ran from it into the wall. Could this be it?
“Perhaps.” Charles didn’t know much about engineering, but the machine was fairly large—could it be disrupting his telepathy, somehow?
“How do we turn it off?”
Iskierka shrugged, lofting up to circle the machine. Pull all the wires out?
“And blow ourselves up in the process,” Charles muttered thoughtfully. He wheeled closer to the generator, and looked at the tools on the table. “Perhaps stick a screwdriver in it? Jam the insides?”
And definitely blow ourselves up, Iskierka said, but scooped a screwdriver up in her talons anyway. Get as far down the hallway as you can. I’ll follow you.
Charles did so, rolling around the corner and hopefully out of a blast radius, if there was one.
Farther, Iskierka said.
He winced, and kept moving, and this time he felt the strain of pulling away from her, stretching and pulling deep inside, and he fought off waves of nausea and fear. Go, he told his daemon.
He felt more than heard Iskierka shove the screwdriver into the generator’s guts, and then she was rushing back to him, dropping into his lap and pressing her head into his neck.
He clutched at her tightly, holding her close, and behind them, the generator let out a loud, cracking groan, and all the lights in the hallway went out.
At once, Charles felt some of the static flare up and fizzle out, and his connection to other minds sharpened. Static still blocked him from many minds, but he found Alex’s and forced his way through, wincing at the telepathic shock.
Alex, he said.
Prof? You can read me?
Sort of. He pressed the image of the generator into his student’s mind. This is what is blocking me—I don’t know how—but there are several of them. Destroy as many as you can.
Got it, Alex said, and through him Charles felt a pulse of sunlight and heard the ceiling crack underneath it. Prof, you’ve gotta stop Magneto, we lost him, but he’s ripping them apart—
I know, Charles said heavily. You lost him? Where did he go?
Dunno, he got ahead of us, sealed the hall behind him. We’re trying to find him again. Fear and anger and disgust boiled in the young mutant’s mind. His daemon—Aliyah—she’s—she’s killing people.
Charles saw a flash of dusty orange fur and flashing teeth, and Aliyah surged from Erik’s side to sink her fangs in a man’s throat, ripping, ripping—
And killing a human herself, without her power, touching him, breaking the taboo—
She’s furious, Iskierka whispered, her voice sharp and clear in Charles’s head. She’s breaking the taboo to kill them.
Charles didn’t know what that meant, for Erik. The two had never been one for convention, of course, and the concentration camps had damaged them, and their bond, but for Erik, throwing his soul out to kill these people?
I cannot touch Erik’s mind yet, Charles said. He’s under another generator. Find him. I’ll try on my end.
Got it, Alex said, and went back to fighting and blasting his way through walls.
“This is bad,” Charles muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. Iskierka took off again in agitation, distressed, angry sounds spilling from her beak.
We have to find them, she said. Now. We have to find them now.
“I know.”
Charles reached out, feeling Erik’s mind under the static sea. He was near the center of the swirling minds, and hard to even identify, but he was there, and Charles quickly cast out for a nearby person.
He found a man, a scientist, and brought him over.
Within a few moments the man and his daemon, a magpie, were standing blank-eyed in front of Charles.
Take us to the center of the building, he ordered, pressing down. The man gave a jerky nod and took the chair, pushing Charles through the hallways.
They passed by most of the main fighting; Alex and Sean were still trying to reach Erik, and Hank and the Brotherhood were on the opposite end. Erik was still too static-coated to reach, and Charles couldn’t find Raven’s thoughts anywhere, which terrified him, but he felt Angel and Riptide, and they were fine and sowing destruction some hallways over.
Be okay, he sent into the static, even though Raven couldn’t hear him. Please, please be okay.
The scientist guided Charles along, and they met mutants—dozens of them, oh god—running away from the noise, pale-faced and scared. Their daemons clung to their shadows, but they were whole, at least, and with a nudge Charles sent them in the direction of the mountains, to find a cave and wait there. He couldn’t soothe their fears yet, but they’d be safe.
The hallways got brighter again, and the static swelled; they were under another generator, and Charles didn’t have time to find it.
The man pushing him faltered, and Charles frowned, digging in and pressing. Iskierka, once again fuzzy and distant, soared up and ahead, towards the screech of shifting metal and the thick, staticky center.
Come on, come on, he thought. They were passing bodies now, and some of them were dead and others badly wounded, covered in gashes and bites or bristling with metal.
Come on!
“Here you are,” the man said placidly, and stopped in front of a hallway that had only two doors. “First intercision station. Would you like to visit the second station?”
Two intercision stations, he thought, and felt sick.
“Wait here,” he ordered, will all the force he could muster, shoving the thought through the static. “We will go to the next station later. Where is it?”
“East Wing.”
So farther from us. No, Erik is here.
The trail of bodies clearly said so.
Charles rolled himself to the first door, and cautiously turned the handle, pushing it open. It was a fairly big room, well-lit, and another generator buzzed in the corner. In the center, a half-completed silver cage, separated by what would soon be a blade, gleamed. There was old, dried blood on the floor.
Erik was not inside, and Charles quietly closed the door.
This is where… Iskierka cried, and landed on his shoulder hard enough to hurt.
Yes.
He moved to the second door, the only place Erik could be, and pushed it open.
***
“I took the sun away from you!” the Man screamed. “I took the stars!”
Jaguar smiled, and his fur rippled in the different lights, yellow, black, white. “Did you?” he said, and bared his teeth, and his shadow spilled behind him.
***
V.
Raven tore down the hallway, Sirion bounding beside her, and tried not to be sick.
They were alive. They were alive, and mostly whole, and that was all that mattered. During their brief fight, the scientist had managed to cut some of their Dust away, but not their heart-strand. So they hurt, and changing shape was painful, but they were whole.
“We’re alive,” Sirion murmured, over and over. “We’re alive, Raven, we’re alive.”
She nodded, and kept running. They were alive, and they could fully change, now, flickering shape to shape effortlessly and without any pain. The drugs, or whatever had been limiting their powers before, was gone.
These hallways were dark. She’d left the light behind her, in the Dust-room, and Raven couldn’t see the brilliant strands now, and she couldn’t feel them, but she knew they were there and their presence comforted her.
“Which way?” Sirion said, stopping at an intersection.
“Towards the sound of the fighting.” And they heard the fighting. It was damn near impossible not to. Their friends were here, and now that they were free, and they could change form easily, they wanted to fight.
And forget what they’d done, but Raven didn’t say that. She didn’t need to. Sirion knew.
“We did what we had to do,” he murmured. “He was going to hurt us. We’ve killed before.”
“Yes,” she said, and tried to mean it. “I know.”
They kept running, and Sirion’s fur flashed brightly in the dark. Up ahead they saw thick smoke and faint pricks of light, and they heard shouting and the sounds of fighting.
“Ready?”
“Always,” her daemon said, and roared tremendously, furiously.
They exploded into a larger, smoke-clogged hallway, and Raven nearly fell over in surprise.
Hank stood in the middle of the wreckage, bashing aside men easily with his huge, furred paws, and his little lemur daemon clawed and bit.
“Hank,” Raven said, and gaped.
The blue-furred mutant straightened and met her eyes, and his fur bristled, whether from anger or agitation she didn’t know.
“Raven,” he said, voice very soft for such a huge body, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“Why are you here? How’d you get here? They didn’t capture you too, did they? They didn’t attack the mansion?”
“No, we weren’t—we weren’t attacked. Magneto came and got us.”
“Erik?” she asked. I thought he said he’d never go back there, she mused. Sirion shrugged his broad shoulders.
Desperate times.
“All of you? You’re all here?”
Hank nodded jerkily, and Hesione returned to his shoulder.
Raven smiled, and she knew she shouldn’t still think of these people as friends, but she was happy to see them. They had come for her, all of them.
And then her heart sank. Charles was here. Charles would know what she’d done, all the people she’d hurt and killed since siding with Erik.
She didn’t want him to know.
Sirion shifted, bouncing onto her shoulder as a tabby cat, purring gently. “It’s time,” he said, and she wasn’t exactly sure what he meant. “Raven, it’s time.”
“Thank you,” she told Hank, and meant it. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
He almost smiled, and ducked his head. Sirion leaped down to meet Hesione, and the two daemons touched noses gingerly.
“Where’s everyone else?”
“We split up. Havok and Banshee are with Magneto, and Frost and Azazel are around here somewhere.”
“Right here, actually,” Emma said, coming around the corner. She glittered, and her diamond face was carved into a smile. “Mystique.”
“Emma.”
“You are alive,” Azazel said, pleased, and his wolf yipped. “Good. Magneto and the telepath do not have to worry, then.”
“Charles? Is he here?”
“He’s on the mountain,” Hank said quickly. Emma’s eyes flashed. “We left him there so he could help, if he needed to.”
“He should be able to reach us now,” Emma said lightly. “At least parts, anyway. The more generators we destroy, the better it gets.”
Raven nodded, relieved that at least Charles was safe, and close by.
But he’ll know what I’ve done…
“Angel and Riptide are coming this way,” Frost continued, and Mortimer hooted from her shoulder. “Shall we meet them?”
Hank looked decidedly uncomfortable, but Sirion gave Hesione a playful nudge and the fur on his shoulders relaxed.
Raven grinned. Everyone was okay. Everyone was alright, and they were going to get out of here. She let her power ripple down to her hands, and Sirion leaped back, flowing into the jaguar shape and shaking himself vigorously.
Emma’s face curved into a wicked, gleaming smile. “Shall we?”
Raven looked down at her daemon, who could change shape easily, effortlessly, and who would never settle, no matter how much she wanted him to.
But she didn’t want him to, not anymore. Sirion was Sirion, the way he was, and she was Raven, and sometimes Mystique. They were themselves, and it didn’t matter that they could change and wouldn’t settle, because Emma could turn to diamonds, Hank was blue, Erik was a magnet, and Charles read minds.
She understood, now, that a daemon was a daemon, no matter what form it took.
Sirion met her eyes, and she felt the roar building in his throat.
“Which way?” she said, and Emma pointed down the hall.
Raven and her Sirion turned, and, with a roar echoing behind them, surged to join the fight.
***
“Brave Eagle,” said the Chief, and he had an arrow behind his back. “I thank you, for all your courage towards my people. We are grateful. You have saved us.”
The Eagle inclined his head. “Are you here to kill me, Chief?”
The Chief smiled, and he was crying. “Yes.” And he drove the arrow into the Eagle’s breast. “Dream and see again, my brother.”
***
VI.
Erik stood in the center of the room, and light heaved around him. Dust—it had to be Dust—hung in ropes, dripping from his fingers, blooming from his chest, rising from the earth, winding between him and Aliyah.
Charles breathed out, and wheeled into the huge, dome-shaped room, and couldn’t take his eyes off of Erik.
“That’s Dust,” he murmured, and Erik started, looking up.
He saw Charles and he smiled, and stretched out a Dusty hand.
“Come here,” he said, and Aliyah purred. The Dust spun lazily around her, and she hummed a tiger-song.
Charles came, and Iskierka dropped to land next to Aliyah, and then the telepath noticed the Dust around her.
Golden light filtered through Iskierka’s feathers and circled her head, and a thick, glimmering strand of it wound from her chest all the way to Charles’s. He traced its path, touched his chest, where the Dust went in. He couldn’t feel it, and it separated for his fingers and flowed into him anyway.
He looked around himself and there was Dust, fanning out, and Erik grinned and ran a hand through it.
Charles laughed. “This is Dust.”
“Yes,” Erik said, and he was grinning wildly, like Charles’s hadn’t seen for years, and Aliyah roared and leaped up, letting the Dust spin and part for her.
“I’d never seen it,” Magneto continued. “I’d heard a little about it, from Shaw, but he didn’t know exactly what it was back then, just that the old Church tried to destroy it—”
In this room, Charles’s telepathy worked a little better—he didn’t know if it was the concentration of Dust, or what—and he jabbed out with it, darting into Erik’s mind and pulling on that thread of angry guilt he’d felt, pulsing and swirling and driving Aliyah to leap and kill.
He found a memory, and it was blood-soaked and gleaming, but he held onto it anyway and looked inside.
His stomach turned, and he put it back.
Erik’s eyes flashed, and Aliyah’s purr dropped into a soft, aborted growl.
“Erik,” Charles said, and stopped.
“You saw it?”
“Yes.”
Erik’s face twisted, and he held onto his Aliyah. “I built the first Silver Guillotine,” he said hollowly, “when I was fourteen years old and there was less than a week left in the war.”
Charles didn’t say anything, and chose to watch the brilliant ribbons of Dust.
“Shaw told me how, and promised me that if I built it for him, I could see Aliyah. I had not seen her for nearly a year. I knew what it was. I knew what it was for. And I built it anyway, because I wanted to see my daemon.”
Aliyah growled, and pressed up against him, and Charles thought it makes sense, now, why they sometimes act like two separate beings, instead of halves of a whole.
“He took it with him, when he ran. I doubt it survived to Argentina, but,” Erik shrugged, and dust spilled from his shoulders.
“My Guillotine was used to make the others.” I made intercision easy.
No you didn’t, Charles wanted to say. “It isn’t your fault,” he said instead. “You were a child, and you wanted your daemon. That’s not your fault.”
Erik’s bitter, hard smile didn’t go away. “Then I was weak.”
“Wanting your daemon made you weak?” Charles asked, incredulous, and Iskierka clacked her beak.
Magneto and Aliyah shared a glance. “Yes,” she said.
“It made you human,” the telepath argued. “It made you a child in a terrible situation.”
Erik spread his hands, and Charles noticed for the first time that they were bloody, and so were Aliyah’s fangs and paws. “I did this.” His mind howled, guilt and rage spinning like a fanged hurricane.
I killed them. I killed all of them, by creating the cutter.
“You killed a lot of people today, you know,” Charles said quietly. “You and Aliyah. You broke the taboo to kill them.”
Erik’s eyes gave nothing away. They ripped out my people’s souls. It is only fitting that mine killed them.
You didn’t have to kill them, Charles forced through, and Iskierka unwillingly mantled her wings. You didn’t have to kill any of them. I would have wiped their minds clean!
“And would that have worked? There are no severed ones here, but what about the others? What about the ones we found in Alaska? What would you have done if we came and Raven was intercised?”
Charles stopped, because he didn’t know.
“I would not have killed them,” he said, fiercely. “I would have—I would have—”
“Let them go?” Erik said, and it was a sigh. “Of course you would have. You’re a good person.”
Iskierka cried out, and launched from the ground, slamming into Erik’s chest and instantly his arms came around her to hold her up—
Light flashed, and Charles couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t think through the hundred thousand threads of thought and love and rage and grief and pain and wantwantwant—
Aliyah pressed her face into his chest, licking his face, purring, whiskers tickling, and his hands disappeared into her fur, holding her close and tight.
She purred, and he felt the sound through his soul.
“You’re an idiot,” Iskierka said, from Erik’s arms, her voice dusty with three years of disuse. “You’re an idiot, you’re an idiot—”
Charles couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t want to. He held Erik’s daemon, and Erik held his, and the Dust around and between them flashed and flared with starbursts of white.
“This is Dust,” he said, again and again, because it was beautiful and complete, and they were lit with it. “This is what it means, to be a mutant. We’re beautiful, Erik, but we’re human too. All these people here, they’re not good people, but you don’t have to kill them.
“They think you are a monster, because you have this and they do not. Don’t prove them right. Don’t kill anyone else here.”
Erik was silent, and Charles heard his heart beat through Iskierka’s ears.
“Why do you protect them?”
“Because not all of them are evil. Not all of them want to kill us.” He thought of Moira and her Zev, who just wanted to be with them, to protect them. “Not all of them deserve your hatred.”
Erik sighed heavily, and gently put Iskierka back on the floor. “Aliyah.”
The tigress whined, and Charles couldn’t help it; he held her tighter, and the Dust flashed and spun.
“Aliyah,” Erik said.
Iskierka keened, and tore into the air, scattering Dust as she mourned. It followed in her wake like trails of fire, and Charles hurt, but he let Aliyah go.
“It’s alright,” he whispered to her, and her face was fractured, but she padded back to her Erik’s side.
Iskierka returned to Charles’s shoulder, and they stood, together and apart, with Dust thrumming between them.
Xavier, Frost said, punching through the static shield. We have Mystique. We have everyone. Everyone is alive.
Thank you, Charles said, and his heart leaped, and he wanted to sing out to Raven, and looked at Erik. “We have Raven. She is alright. Whole.”
Erik nodded, bowing his head. “Then,” he said carefully, and Aliyah’s pained growl rattled in the room, “I suppose we have no other purpose here. Wipe their minds, and we can go.”
It was a peace offering, and Charles smiled, even though he felt ragged and empty, and missed the flashing Dust. He reached out, and Alex and Sean had taken out more generators; the static field was light now.
Forget what you have done, he said, and they did. Not too far from this Dust-room, men fell asleep and forgot their purpose, and Erik was reaching out too, Dust contracting around him.
The walls shook, and Charles knew he was destroying everything he could find.
The lights flickered, and for a second, they lost sight of their Dust.
“Azazel will come for us,” Charles said.
Erik nodded, and offered his hand. Dust spilled in rivers from his palms, like fire, like blood, like love and his power, and Charles took it, and their Dust flashed once, brightly.
“If this happens again,” he said softly, warningly.
Charles nodded. “If this happens again, you may kill them all.”
The Dust wove around them in brilliant rivers, and Erik cupped Charles’s face and Aliyah nuzzled Iskierka, and they watched the Dust-sparks snap and crackle.
The room shook under Erik’s power.
There was the sharp tang of cinnamon, and a hand on Charles’s shoulder, and then they were gone.