Through The Looking Glass: Part 1
by Alicia McKenzie
DISCLAIMER: The characters, unrecognizable as some of them may be, ;) belong to Marvel, and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only.
Nathan Dayspring Summers stopped mid-way down the darkened hallway at a gesture from the man leading the way. Gambit looked back at him, red-on-black eyes glowing in the dimness, and then pointed at the staircase at the opposite end of the hall.
"Check upstairs," he hissed. Cable contemplated reminding the man that he was a telepath, and he knew damned well that there was nothing alive up there WITHOUT needing to check, but swallowed the protest before it could escape. Easier not to bother, he told himself sourly. Besides, maybe Gambit had a point. Sinister could have left some sort of surprise for them up there. Worth checking out, possibly.
It still left a bad taste in his mouth. He'd been trying, he really had, but he still couldn't quite cope with the fact that he was taking orders from Remy LeBeau. How had THAT happened? Sure, it had made sense to join the X-Men as a way of honoring Scott's memory. . .why the flonq not? It wasn't like he had anything else to do these days. No more holy crusade, no more undying war to be fighting. . .I'm a rebel without a cause, and I'm taking orders from the Cajun. I should have shot myself six months ago and spared myself the agony.
#Be nice, Nathan,# Jean's voice said in his mind, with a soft chuckle.
He didn't want to be nice. Nice was for the weak. And the complacent. And the conciliatory. None of which he was. No, what he WANTED was to wait for the very next time Gambit gave him an order with that supercilious 'I must be obeyed' smirk and take it as an excuse to shove his psimitar where the sun didn't shine. . .
#Okay, then at least keep your mind on the job, Nate.# Her voice was more professional, this time. She was constantly lecturing him, these days. Apparently, Jean had decided that he was Not A Team Player, and had taken it upon herself to correct the problem. He would have put up more of a fight, but all she had to do was give him That Look and he felt like he was seven years old again. #This is Sinister we're dealing with, remember?#
Like he was going to forget THAT. Then again, Sinister still being around could be a good thing. His 'grandfather' didn't appear to have changed his stripes, and as long as he was still running around wreaking his own merry brand of havoc, chances were good that there'd still be lots of work for a former Chosen One. . .
#If you want a fight that badly, I'm sure Logan would be willing to oblige, WHEN THE JOB'S DONE.#
Well, he had to admit that was tempting. Reaching the top of the unexpectedly long staircase, Nathan took a firmer grip on his psimitar and channeled a little telekinesis through it, just enough to make the blade glow. The shadows retreated, almost reluctantly, and Cable grimaced as he saw what looked like a completely ordinary, if rather dilapidated loft.
Please let there be SOMETHING up here. Just for variety's sake. He took a step forward, and hesitated, raising a telekinetic shield around himself. Didn't hurt to be safe. . .
#Nate?#
#Nothing yet, Jean.# He could feel her, linked to him very lightly as she and the rest of the team searched through the lower levels of the house. This was turning into a complete waste of time, he thought, grumbling to himself. They had only Gambit's word that Sinister had been here recently, and the more dust he saw, the more Nathan was beginning to doubt that ANYONE had been here lately. The place looked as if it had been completely deserted for months, at least. There wasn't even any residue in the psychic atmosphere. . .
He made two circuits of the room, looking futilely for anything of interest and wincing at the ominous way the floor creaked beneath him. Oh, that sounds healthy. . .
#Still nothing?#
#Just dust bunnies so big they've turned carnivorous,# he responded grouchily. #I'm coming back down.#
#Take your time. We're not finding anything down here.#
#Big surprise there.# He walked forward. . .
And fell through the floor as it collapsed beneath him.
Too fast. . .
Even as he tried to catch himself telekinetically, he hit the floor of the level below. His head slammed against something. . .he heard Jean's alarmed cry in his mind. . .
And then nothing.
***
Water. Dripping on him. Continuing to drip on him. Getting very annoying, as a matter of fact. . .
Nathan opened his eyes, and cursed feebly as the water dripped into his eyes. Oath. . . He raised a hand, first to rub his eyes and then as a shield. Green. An awful lot of green. Where the flonq was he?
He sat up, slowly, wincing at the thundering pain in his head as he looked around. This was interesting. Not that he minded forests, but what was he doing in one? He didn't remember deciding that he needed to get back to nature, and the trees here were just a little larger than he was used to seeing in the twentieth century.
Maybe he wasn't in the twentieth century, he thought, rubbing at the back of his neck. But these trees didn't look mutated, like the ones he remembered from Ebonshire. They were rather beautiful, actually. Just very big. He started to look upwards, to see how far into the sky the trees reached, but thought better of it almost immediately. Oath, headache was a mild word for this. . .what had he done to himself?
Nathan leaned back against the broad trunk of the tree behind him, and tried to decide what to do. He honestly suspected that if he tried to reached out telepathically, his head would either explode or fall off, so that was out. Getting up was equally unattractive. He closed his eyes for a moment, a pained sigh escaping him. How did he get himself into these situations? Was it some kind of evil luck, or something?
~why so angry?~
~why so sad?~His eyes flew open and he stiffened, warily. There was no sign of movement anywhere in the vicinity. He studied the bushes warily for a long moment. Nothing. But he had quite distinctly heard those two questions, in that tiny, piping voice. . .
~we don't mind you sitting here,
here upon our ground so dear,
our forest home is free to all,
in spring or summer, winter, fall,
but if you sit and sorrow sow,
how can tiny grass seeds grow?~Nathan blinked. The grass. . .is talking to me? The grass is talking to me. Lovely. Just lovely. I must have a concussion. . .at least. Either that or I've completely lost my mind, at last. . . He wasn't sure what option he preferred.
~we know you hear us speak, my friend,
be kind, and your attention lend,
to this, our forthright, courteous plea,
take your anger and let us be!~Nathan scrambled to his feet, swaying and cursing as the pain in his head redoubled. "I'm going, I'm going," he muttered, staggering off to one side. Best not to argue with the talking grass. It might give you hayfever.
Trying very hard to stay on his feet, he stumbled through the forest, tripping over every tree root in his path. Every single tree root, he swore it. Even tree roots where there hadn't been tree roots before. "You're doing this, aren't you?" he shouted, coming to an unsteady stop and glaring up at the trees. "I'm trying to LEAVE your flonqing forest, you know!"
The ground beneath his feet vibrated slightly, and he wound up flat on his face. That strange vibration came again, and he realized, somehow, that it was laughter.
Grass talking to him. . .trees laughing at him. . .this was really a little more than he could handle.
~POOR BENIGHTED HUMAN BOY. . .~
~I THINK HE'S SOMEONE'S BROKEN TOY.~
~HE HAS THAT AIR ABOUT HIM, YES. . .~
~OF LOST BEWILDERMENT, AT BEST.~
Now he was being psychoanalysed by mouthy oversized trees. Laughing wildly, Nathan let himself go limp against the ground.
"I give up! I flonqing well give up!" he moaned. He couldn't deal with snide trees. He just couldn't. That was not within the range of his coping skills.
~HE'S RATHER PESSIMISTIC, NO?~
~PERHAPS WE SHOULD JUST LET HIM GO.~
~WHAT FUN IS IT IF HE WON'T PLAY?~
~PERHAPS WE'LL TRY ANOTHER DAY. . .~
"If ye don't mind me asking, my bonny lad, what are ye doing lying in the mud on this fine day?"
Nathan looked up. The creature standing in front of him was about three feet tall, with reddish hair and green-blue eyes. He also had Sean Cassidy's voice, which was more than a little odd. . .
"You're talking in prose," he answered, in a voice that sounded far too cracked for comfort. "That's something, at least. . ."
"Aye, I can stop, if ye like. . ." The leprechaun. . .it had to be a leprechaun, it was all in green, with a green hat and buckled pointed shoes. . .smiled at him winningly, and took another puff of its tiny pipe. "Wouldn't want to be disappointing a visitor to this fair land, if it's poetry ye be wanting. . ."
"No," Nathan said weakly. "Don't sing on my account." He pushed himself up to a sitting position. "Fair land. . .where are we?"
"Why, in the Fair Land, of course! Did I not just say that, lad?" the leprechaun said amiably.
Of course. "The Fair Land. Right. And that would be where?"
The leprechaun drew itself up to its full, rather unimpressive height, and cleared his throat.
"Where is the Fair Land, the wandering soul asks?
South of the coast where the sweet sirens bask,
At the end of the road where the lost souls all go,
In the heart of the valley where the dream river flows.""Oh, terribly helpful," Nathan said faintly. Dream river. . .well, that sounds promising, at least. Dream river. River of dreams. This is a dream. Life is a dream, sweetheart. . . A whimper escaped him before he could stop it, and the leprechaun raised a bushy red-gold eyebrow, looking concerned.
"Ach, lad, ye're looking positively ghost-like. What would be the problem, then?"
Nathan opened his mouth, intending to tell the helpful leprechaun about being lost in a place he didn't know where the flora was talking to him and straight answers seemed to be an endangered species, but nothing came out. "Problem?" he finally managed, his throat feeling like sandpaper. "Not a problem. No problem, at all." His brain had somehow edged over into its default Close-Mouthed Protective Mode. "You have. . .a very nice singing voice."
The leprechaun beamed. "Why, thank ye, lad! They tell me down at the Hall that I do, but it's always very nice indeed to be appreciated."
"The. . .Hall?"
"The Hall for Displaced Mythical Minorities, aye," the leprechaun said cheerfully. "After all, we wee folk have t'have a place to go and drown our sorrows. Mind ye, that's just a figure of speech. There be no sorrows here. We just use the excuse to get drunk out of our tiny minds."
"I'd say that sounded like a good idea, but I think I already have a hangover," Cable said dazedly.
The leprechaun beamed. "Aye, I knew ye were a kindred spirit, as soon as I looked at ye!"
Cable winced. "No, I'm not," he said desperately. "I'm just. . ."
But the leprechaun was already singing again.
"So raise a glass to the young and brave,
And from the curse of sobriety save,
All those who live beneath the sun. . .""Stop it! Please!" Nathan said agitatedly.
The leprechaun blinked at him. "Ye interrupted my song, lad. I hadn't even gotten to the part about payin' allegiance to the demon rum . . ."
"I. . ." Nathan pulled himself to his feet. "I didn't mean to, I just. . ."
"There ye are, ye daft man!"
The screech slashed through the air like a knife, and Nathan stumbled backwards instinctively as an equally tiny woman popped out of the bushes, reddish-brown hair flying in an untidy cloud around her head, and green eyes sparkling angrily. She was also wielding a frying pan as if it were a deadly weapon. He took another step back, just in case, but her attention seemed to be focused on the leprechaun, not him.
"Ye daft bugger!" she shrilled. "Ye expect me to sit at home and cook ye dinner while ye be out trafficking with vagrants? I ought to split yuir thick skull with my good pan!"
"He is nae a vagrant, my dearest love," the leprechaun said placatingly, dropping his pipe and raising both hands as if to shield himself. "He's just a traveler who lost his way in the forest. A good lad, truthfully. Perhaps we'd do well to invite him home for dinner?"
"BAH!" she shrieked. "Ye'd say that about anyone, ye fool! For all ye know, he's here to rob us of all our worldly possessions!"
"Ach, lass. . ."
"Well, at least ye're not out ogling that blonde slut of a water sprite!" she snarled. "I would have killed ye if I'd found ye playing in THAT spring again, boyo. . ."
"Lass, lass, ye know I only have eyes for ye. . ."
Nathan did the cliched thing, and backed away slowly. The two continued their conversation, the tiny woman's voice getting even louder.
"Ye think I don't know what ye think when ye look at her? Ye think it doesn't stab me to the quick to know that while I've been working my fingers to the bone, ye've been out dilly-dallying with that golden-haired harlot?"
"Dallying? I would never dally with her, my love, I swear. . ."
"ACH! Men! Ye're all the same! And ye! Come back here, ye vagabond! Let's see what color yer blood is!"
Nathan turned tail and ran. The woman's angry shouting gradually faded into the distance. Miraculously enough, no tree roots tripped him up, this time. He felt the vibration of the trees' laughter again, as soon as the thought occurred to him.
~WE LISTEN TO HER EVERY DAY,~
~WE'LL AID YOU NOW TO RUN AWAY.~
~FOR THOUGH WE'RE CRUEL, WE DO HAVE HEARTS.~
~NOW BEGONE TO DISTANT, QUIETER PARTS.~
Nice trees, Nathan thought wildly, and ran.
***
The forest seemed to go on forever, but eventually, through the trees, he caught sight of a wide, rather lovely river. Stumbling through the line of trees, he stood on the bank, staring across desperately. The other side looked like a mirror of this one, but that couldn't be, could it? There had to be a way out of this forest. Back to. . .wherever.
Tentatively, he clambered down over the rocks. The water didn't look too deep. . .
It rippled, and he jumped back with a yelp. Fish, he told himself, staring into the pristine depths. Had to be a fish. . .
~Don't give us that look, pal. . .we're not here to eat.~
~Just turn and walk away, pal. . .the water's too deep.~
Nathan swallowed. "I. . .just want to get across," he muttered desperately.
~Then go and grow wings, pal. . .but don't try to swim.~
"I promise, I won't try and catch you. Any of you. Whatever you are. I just want to get out of here!"
Silence. Nathan blinked. "Please?" he tried again, tentatively.
~Oh, don't go and cry, pal. . .you're really quite dim.~
Nathan sat down on the nearest handy rock, and stared desolately out at the water. "Flonq all of you," he whispered. There was no answer.
For the life of him, he couldn't think of any way to get across the river without swimming. There weren't any trees of the size to serve as raft material. . .not that he'd ever MADE a raft, so with his luck a raft of his would break apart in the current and he'd wind up as fish food. . .
A noise in the distance caught his attention, and he looked up, blinking, and watched as a barge of some sort appeared from around the bend in the river, floating majestically towards him. It was quite a sight, all hung with blue and golden silks. Three steel men, all identical, all expressionless, were manning the oars, and a young woman lounged on the divan at the center of the barge, her brown hair fluttering in the wind.
And she was singing.
"Oh, why has my true love gone from me?
Where in this fair land can he be?
A moment's doubt and then he was gone,
Leaving me naught but this mournful love-song."She sounded so sad, Nathan thought, and then swore at the tears of sympathy welling up in his eyes. What the flonq was wrong with him?
"Where in this land can my true love be?
How can my heart ever be free?
I didn't even say good-bye,
And all I gave him was a lie,
of a heart not half as hard as it seemed,
of a girl who'd forgotten how to dream. . ."One of the metal men dropped his oar in the water, and pointed, wordlessly, right at Nathan. The girl stopped singing, and raised an imperious hand. The other two rowers carefully steered the barge into shore.
The girl eyed him, silent for a long moment. "And who would you be?"
He stared right back at her. "Kitty?" he finally asked, warily.
She blinked. "Lady Katherine, actually," she said, and then softened the haughtiness by a smile. "Come," she said beckoningly. "You look lost. We're traveling up the River of Dreams, out of the forest. You're welcome to come along."
He eyed the space of water, only a few feet, between the shore and the edge of the barge. "The fish will eat me," he said, knowing he sounded slightly hysterical, but unable to help himself.
Kitty. . .Lady Katherine blinked down at the water. "Carnivorous fish? Good grief, this forest gets stranger by the day." She pursed her lips slightly, and sang again.
"There once was a mermaid fair,
With long and golden hair,
On land she walked one day,
And chose on land to stay. . ."The ripples around the barge were more numerous, now. Lady Katherine smiled, but didn't pause in her song.
"She found a prince so kind,
That soon she did not mind,
And stayed with surface folk,
Where wedding vows she spoke.
So bear in mind, my friends,
Your ways you must now mend,
For that queen, she was my kin,
Though I may bear no fin,
So any friend of mine,
To him you must be kind."The ripples, almost reluctantly, subsided. Lady Katherine beamed at him. "See?" she said kindly, extending a hand. "The fish won't harm you. Come aboard, and we'll be off. You don't look like you want to stay in this forest any more than I do."
Nathan, a little dazedly, complied, and barely made it onto the barge before his knees gave out on him. He ended up half-sprawled beside the divan. Lady Katherine made a disapproving noise, and reached out a hand. He took it, and let her pull him up onto the divan with him.
"Have you hurt yourself?" she asked, very concernedly, taking his chin in her hand and studying his face intently.
"I don't know," he muttered, not pulling away. "I don't remember how I got here, what happened. . ."
"Ah," she said, her smile almost mysterious as she released him. "The Enigmatic Stranger."
"The what?" he asked weakly. Something told him there was a song coming on.
"The Enigmatic Stranger. You know. . ." She raised an eyebrow. "All right, so you don't know. It's a good thing I do. Lay down, close your eyes, and I'll tell you?"
"Tell me?" he asked weakly, obeying.
"Sing it to you, rather."
"Sing," he said with a strained laugh. "How did I know that?"
"Shush. It's a lovely old song. . ."
He shushed. She sang.
"From parts unknown the Stranger came,
And won himself a curious fame,
For no one ever knew his story,
Whether it would end in glory,
Or in sadness greater still. . ."The sound of the water lapping at the sides of the barge was almost soothing. He focused on that, on Katherine's song, and nothing else.
"In wars unknown the Stranger fought,
Never finding what he sought,
Never did he tell us true,
What it was he came to do,
Or what was left in him to save. . ."Nathan opened his eyes, staring up at the blue, blue sky. "I'm not sure I like this song, Katherine," he murmured.
"Ah. Strikes a chord, does it?"
"Something like that." He thought of sitting up, but he was far too comfortable right where he was. The pain in his head was dying away to a dull, muted ache. There was something about Lady Katherine's presence that was very comforting, for some reason. "Where are we going?"
"Why, the Maze, of course. I have to find my own true love who I cruelly forsook when I was momentarily in leave of my senses thanks to a foul wizard's spell," her voice hardened slightly for a moment, "and you. . ." She paused, smiling down at him gently. "Well, I'm assuming you want to find out where you came from and how to get back there."
"I'm not so sure about that," he said, with a heavy sigh. "Strikes me that I wasn't particularly unhappy about leaving. . ."
"Be that as it may," she said with a soft chuckle, "the Maze will have some answers for you, one way or the other."
"How far is it?"
"Not far. Close your eyes, and we'll be there before you know it."
to be continued. . .