Imp of
the Perverse
by: Sue Penkivech
It was over.
How she knew, she couldn’t say.
Perhaps
the strain of phasing
the bullet had lessened as it escaped Earth’s gravitational pull.
Perhaps it was some sort of sixth sense, the same that allowed her to
drift
through the earth’s crust and emerge on the surface, despite time
elapsed, despite distance. Or perhaps it was wishful thinking,
she admitted
grudgingly as she let out a snort at her own impudence. For all
she knew, she
might still be somewhere within the Earth.
But she felt as if it were over. She
was exhausted, both from the
effort of phasing the bullet through the Earth and from fighting the
almost
overwhelming pull of the alien metal within her. Like calling to
like, it drew
her to the bullet’s surface, pooling in her body where her flesh made
contact. She strained against it once again, trying to pull
herself away,
ultimately collapsing once again as her strength gave out.
She wasn’t going anywhere. Not
now. Possibly not ever…
As soon as she finished the thought, she
pushed it aside. Giving up
was something she couldn’t afford to consider. There had to be a
way out
of this, and if there was, she’d find it.
She just needed to rest, first.
Her mind reached out to Emma’s. It was
ironic, she thought, that
she’d actually be seeking out Emma for reassurance, but at the end of
the
day Emma’d stayed with her and given what scant assistance she
could.
Now, though, there was no answer to her call, no diamond-edged
commentary to
welcome her back. She told herself it was distance, or
interference, but in
truth she had no idea how long she’d been gone, how far distant from
Earth she was. She’d lost consciousness at some point – for
seconds? Hours? Weeks?
No way to know. Given her new and
unique bond with the bullet’s
surface and the mystical spell that pervaded it, it might’ve been any
of
those, or none. Again, it wasn’t something she was prepared to
consider
just yet.
“’Bout time you woke up,” a familiar voice
said
casually.
Kitty’s head jerked up, and she let out a
gasp of protest as the
movement was arrested by her hair’s bond with the surface. She’d
managed to turn her head far enough to see who had spoken, though, and
for a
moment she felt a flood of hope.
That died as she saw the callous expression
on her former
roommate’s face, the dead, emotionless look in her eyes.
Not Illyana. Darkchylde.
“
Assuming, of course, that was Illyana’s
intent.
“Mmm. Sort of. Close enough,
anyway. Nice job with the
bullet,” Illyana said, her lizard-like tail flipping in an eerie
simulation of Kurt’s casual grace. “You saved the Earth, figured
you’d be glad to know that.”
“What –“ whatever Kitty’d been about to say,
and even she wasn’t sure, was arrested as a smaller, pink-haired figure
emerged from behind Illyana.
“Is it time, Mistress?” Pixie asked, an
expression of rapt
adoration on her face as she looked up at Illyana.
Illyana smiled coldly, and Kitty felt her
spine tingle in a way that
had nothing to do with exhaustion or metal-induced illness. “Oh,
I think
so. Y’see,” she said, turning back to Kitty, “I came to find
you, after your last visit to Limbo. You weren’t anywhere to be
found.
Piotr either. But that’s not surprising, is it? Neither of
you have
ever been around when I needed you.”
“That’s not fair,” Kitty objected.
“Illyana,
we’ve always –“ the tail swung, smacking her in the face, and
she cried out as the force which should’ve sent her flying was instead
arrested by the metal holding her prisoner. The metallic taste of
her own
blood filled her mouth and she swallowed hard, choking down both the
blood and
a sudden terror that had nothing to do with the bullet itself and
everything to
do with the fact she was, for the first time she could remember,
utterly defenseless
before a very real threat.
The fact that the threat was one of her best
friends was only icing on
the cake.
“Shut up! I heard you in Limbo.
‘Be careful,
Piotr!’, as if I’d hurt my own brother. I’d trusted you,
Kitty.” For a moment, her resolve wavered, pain flashing over her
face,
but then it was gone once again. “Should’ve known better.
Cat
taught me not to trust anyone but myself.”
“You can trust me, Mistress!” Pixie said
enthusiastically,
jet black butterfly wings fluttering with expectation.
Illyana laughed. “For now, while the
glamour holds,” she
agreed, looking at the younger girl fondly. “But sooner or later
you’ll turn on me, won’t you, Apprentice? That’s just how it
works.”
“Apprentice?” Kitty choked out, looking from
one to the
other in disbelief. “I thought…
“Well, you won’t have to think anymore, will
you? See, I
gave it some thought myself,” Illyana said, gesturing for Pixie to
proceed. “I need souls to fill the Beatrix amulet. Five of
them –
well, four now that I’ve got Megan’s. Now, I could take them from
people I don’t like, but for magic to work best, there has to be a
sacrifice. And a sacrifice entails giving up something you care
about.”
She grinned, a cold, humorless expression, then shrugged. “Can’t
use my sword these days, but hey, that’s apprentice work anyway.”
Pixie stepped closer and shrugged as she
pulled out a small dagger.
“Sorry, Ms. Pryde,” she said, a trace of genuine regret in her
voice. “You were always one of my favorite teachers. No
hard
feelings?”
“Don’t –“ every molecule in her body
screamed
in agony as Pixie’s dagger drew her forth from the bullet, magic
battling
magic for ownership of her body. Ultimately, though, the soul
dagger won out
over the alien spells, and she felt herself be drawn into it, even as
Amanda
had pulled her into the soul sword years before. Her last
conscious thought
was that there were indeed fates worse than spending a lifetime bonded
to a
bullet hurtling through space.
“We’ll do the spell in Limbo,” she heard
Illyana say
conversationally. “All this alien magic is giving me a headache.”
“Whatever you say, Mistress,” Pixie replied
cheerfully as
she sheathed her dagger.
Kitty heard no more.