Fic: from the rivers of our palms | part one: left and right
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part one: left and right
Langley, Virginia, 1967
***
“Jaguar,” the Lizard called. “Brother Jaguar!”
The Jaguar, whose fur was sunlight and moonlight and starlight all at once, opened his lazy eyes. “What?
The Lizard stopped before him, out of breath and afraid. “Brother Jaguar,” he said. “The humans are coming to kill you.”
***
I.
“Raven,” Sirion whispered, and she felt his whiskers brush the back of her knee. “Hurry up. I don’t like this.”
“Coward,” Raven muttered, but she listened anyway, her fingers deftly flicking through file after file. Sirion growled low in this throat, pacing, and the shadows deepened in his fur.
“Hurry,” he hissed. She could feel his anxiety echo in her own chest and she covered his muzzle with a hand.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” she said. “We can’t afford to miss anything.”
Her daemon flicked his tail and kneaded the floor with his claws. “Where’s Frost? And Angel? It’d go faster if they were here.”
Raven shrugged. “It’d go faster if you’d help me, you know.”
Sirion snorted and shed his jaguar shape, hoping up onto the filing cabinet as a monkey. “Better?”
“Much.”
They worked quickly for several minutes, combing through dozens of files, occasionally dragging one out and tossing it on the floor. The room was dark, shadowed, and heavy with dust-some of these cabinets hadn’t been touched in years. Raven’s flashlight cast a watery beam, just enough to read the file names and make the swirling dust glow, alive, in Sirion’s fur.
Had they been anywhere else, it would’ve been almost peaceful, to work in silence and watch the dust play across each other.
And then they remembered why they were here, and what they had to do, and anger burned in the pit of Raven’s belly.
“How many more?”
“Just another drawer full,” Raven said, her eyes flickering to the door.
“Why can’t we just burn them all?” Sirion muttered. “It’d be a damn sight faster than doing it like this.” His monkey fingers brushed hers quickly and his fur was spiked with tension.
“It’ll be okay,” she said. “Frost’s keeping watch for us, we’ll be fine.”
The daemon made a deep, disgusted sound. “I feel so much better.”
A shrill hoot made Sirion start and he toppled off the cabinet, flicking into his jaguar shape to glare.
Emma Frost’s daemon swooped by, a blur of white, his feathers diamond-sharp and glittering, taking a swipe at Sirion as he passed.
The owl hooted softly, scolding, and settled back onto Emma’s shoulder with his feathers sliding and clicking against each other.
“We heard that,” Emma said mildly, and her daemon rustled his wings and flicked his head disdainfully.
Sirion bared his teeth.
Angel slipped in from behind Emma, clutching a thick file in her hands. She looked between Raven and Emma, who were staring at each other much like their daemons were (viciously), and rolled her eyes.
“If you two are done,” she said, “I’m ready to go.” She waved her file. “You have the ones you need, Mystique?”
“Yeah,” Raven said, breaking eye contact with Frost. Sirion growled softly and she nudged him warningly, bending down to pick up the files. “Behave,” she hissed. “We can’t screw this up. Remember who we’re doing it for.”
Sirion quieted, pressing against her legs briefly, and she felt him remember and shiver with it.
“Ready,” Raven said, cradling the files close to her chest. Emma nodded and led the way out, her daemon flying ahead to peer down corridors and into closed rooms. Riptide was waiting for them, silent as ever, and he nodded to Raven as she passed.
Langley was absurdly quiet at three in the morning-Raven expected, well, more out of the CIA. Twenty-four hour teams, constant surveillance, armed guards with snarling wolf daemons, more than what the CIA had offered them so far.
It had been almost pathetically easy to break into the base, even without Erik. All had only taken Raven copying a guard and a few well-placed globes of fire from Angel and the four mutants had been in.
Sirion flattened his ears against his head and showed Raven his snowy teeth, his fur bristling anxiously. “This isn’t right,” he whispered. “I don’t-I don’t like it, Raven.”
“Relax,” she whispered back. The fluorescent lights flickered, bringing out the subtle colors in Siri’s dark fur, revealing his spots. Out of all he forms he took, this one was Raven’s favorite. Sleek, strong, beautiful, if only he would stay and never change-
Raven caught the thought before it could reach Sirion (or Emma) and stamped it out ruthlessly. She didn’t care that Sirion hadn’t settled. She didn’t. She loved him anyway.
She focused on Emma and Angel, running ahead, so she didn’t have to think about anything else. She wasn’t important right now. The mission was. They had to get these files out of the CIA, so that what happened in the north-
Raven’s stomach turned and her current form flickered, wavering blue for a heartbeat.
Sirion rumbled a reassurance but she felt the sickness and fear churn through him too, and his fur stood jagged on end.
“Almost there,” she soothed. She wished her hands were free so she could reach down and grab a handful of his fur.
“Yeah,” he said, but his eyes were far away.
“Shit.”
Emma turned around so fast Angel nearly crashed into her.
“What’s wrong?”
“We have to go,” Emma said tightly. Her daemon spun in the air, shooting past Raven and down the corridor, Emma hot on his heels. “They know we’re here. Twenty of them are waiting for us the way we came in and they’re calling in locals for reinforcements. We have to move.”
Angel swore violently, tearing after the telepath, and Raven hastily followed. Sirion flickered into a hawk’s form, diving through the air, and brushed his human with the tips of his wings.
Riptide paused briefly to throw a whirlwind down the hall, tearing open doors and light fixtures and overturning chairs. His daemon spun above him in circles, creating another tornado, and they left the hallway behind them a shattered battlefield.
“Shit!”
Emma stopped completely at a junction between to hallways, her skin hardening and crystallizing in a second. “We’re trapped,” she said.
“Trapped?” Raven hissed, and though she would never admit it fear slid into her veins. “You’re a telepath, how the fuck did we get trapped?”
“I don’t know,” said Emma, and her daemon flew in loops around her head, betraying her calm, collected diamond face. “This has never happened before.”
“There’s got to be a way out,” Angel argued. Her daemon, Quetz, loosed himself from her neck and whispered in her ear; Angel grew steadily paler.
Emma’s owl hooted suddenly, gesturing with his wings towards another hallway.
“He can’t feel any daemons that way,” Emma said, and followed her daemon immediately.
“Raven,” Sirion growled, dropping into the jaguar’s shape again. “I don’t like this, this feels wrong-”
“We don’t have another choice, Siri,” she said. “We’ve got to get these files out of here.”
He whined unhappily in his throat, his eyes wide, but she felt him steel himself, growing taller and unsheathing his claws.
“Okay,” he said, and they began to run, charging after Emma.
All stealth and subtly was abandoned now; the group tore down the hallways after the snowy owl, their feet slapping on the tile. Riptide paused occasionally to hurl tornadoes, wrecking the hallways and creating a trail of debris that might, somehow, hopefully, slow up their pursuers.
And behind them, growing louder and louder, was the roar of men’s voices, and the howl of hunting daemons.
We might get our wolf daemons after all, Raven thought, and abandoned her current form for her true one, using the sudden boost of energy to run-
Sirion roared, the sound magnifying and bouncing down the hallways, and Raven hoped it would be enough to make the agents afraid.
Up ahead, Emma’s her gleaming skin threw wild, dancing light on the walls, and Angel unfurled her wings. The sound of buzzing filled the hallway.
The snowy owl turned violently, his wings straining, and Raven had a split-second to notice that his eyes were wide and frightened.
“Mortimer!” Emma cried, and then the hallway boiled white.
A thunderous crack dropped Raven to her knees and Sirion twisted on the ground, howling, as light and sound splintered around them.
It took Raven a few seconds before she could stagger up and let go of her ears (she noted dimly that her hands were bloody), and by then, it was too late.
The hallway was suddenly swarming with men in SWAT jackets and strange helmets on their heads-like Magneto’s, she thought-and the four stunned mutants didn’t really stand a chance.
They fought anyway.
Angel spat fire and Riptide conjured devastation and Emma glittered, all razored edges, and Raven dove through shape after shape, big and small, anything and everything to throw them off.
Sirion roared, swatting aside wolves, dogs, and birds, his fangs flashing. A few wolves tried to pin him down but he changed, snake-bird-lion-horse so fast it hurt to watch, and the wolves were no match for a daemon who could be anything he wanted to be.
Raven fought, just like Azazel taught her, and she felt bones snap and recoil under her feet. Her head swam and the world doubled, and she could only hold on to a shape for a few seconds, but none of it mattered, she had to fight-
She lashed out and caught an agent in the face; his head snapped back, his eyes shock-wide, and he fell. His daemon howled, burst into dust, and then was gone. The man was dead before he hit the ground, and Raven felt sick-
No, she thought. I can’t. Not now. Have to fight.
Sirion fell back into his jaguar shape and slashed and bit, and daemons burst into dust underneath his ferocious paws, their men falling, dead. He wasn’t nearly as guilty as Raven-his fear, his need to live, to protect her, overcame it.
Out of the corner of her bleary eyes, Raven saw Quetz lash out from Angel’s arms, spitting flame or biting with his needle-sharp fangs. Riptide’s osprey daemon dove with tornadoes following her wings to gouge at eyes and throats. Emma was devastating those around her, her skin too hard to pierce with bullets or fists or clubs. Her owl, his feathers diamond-edged, flew as high as he could above the seething mass, diving down to claw, shred, and batter his enemies.
Another man came at Raven with the butt of a rifle and she ducked, kicking his legs out from under him and trying to crush his windpipe. Other hands grabbed at her and she changed, scales flickering, and they drew their hands away in fear.
She broke a nose, and then a wrist, and then some ribs, leaping and twisting through flailing limbs and claws.
Sirion howled her name, leaping over a dog and a lynx, struggling to be with her.
“Emma!” Raven screamed. “Angel! Riptide!”
No one answered, and she could barely see her teammates through the mob. Men pressed in on all sides, driving her back into a corner no matter how many she kicked down.
Emma’s owl tore a helmet from an agent’s head, and suddenly gunfire splattered through legs and arms and necks. Men screamed and the tang of blood mixed with stench smoldering skin.
Orders were frantically shouted, and Raven found herself backed against the wall. She swore and Sirion pressed close, his face twisted into an awful, terrible snarl.
Fear buzzed through him and Raven caught a thought-they’ll do it to us too-before he hid it from her with a tremendous, shattering roar.
Through the mob she saw Angel in a similar position, cuddling her Quetz close and spitting globes of fire at anyone who came near.
Riptide was cornered too and he couldn’t throw his tornadoes if he didn’t have room-
Emma was only visible in brief, glittering flashes, her hands like claws shredding faces, flaying back skin.
“Take them down!” someone bawled, and Raven screamed, launching herself at the nearest man, determined to go down fighting, damn it-
She toppled to the ground with a needle buried in her shoulder and the strength pouring from her fingers. Her vision doubled, tripled, and Raven had time to see Angel go down too, fire still pooling in her mouth-
Emma whistled, shrill and desperate, and there was the familiar rush of Azazel bursting in-
The last thing Raven thought before passing out was we’re next, and the last thing she saw was her Sirion roar and lunge, his fur turning suddenly, violently white-
***
“Tyger, tyger, burning bright,” whispered Man to the fearsome beast. “What immortal hand or eye doth frame thy fearful symmetry?”
The tiger grinned, showing Man his gleaming teeth. “Not yours,” he said, and ripped out Man’s throat.
***
II.
Westchester, New York, 1967
Aliyah prowled through the woods and paused, ears pricked, to taste the air.
The forest was still and quiet. She smelled only wild animals, wet earth, and the faint, week-old traces of the children.
Satisfied that she was alone and safe, she continued to move soundlessly through the Westchester countryside.
Patches of moonlight dappled the air, revealing the glint of a fang, the curve of a claw, the fur cragged in angry, bristling lines down her shoulders, the pale, limp ermine dangling in her jaws.
Aliyah was furious. Rage filled her mouth and echoed deep in her soul, her own anger and Erik’s joining at the center to flood out and hum down her fur like lightning.
She couldn’t talk to Erik-he was too far away, separated by hundreds of miles and a steady old ache-but she felt his fury roll like a growl low and constant in her chest, and it was comforting and familiar.
The pitiful creature in her jaws made a keening sound and twitched, her pale body exploding for a second with color, with need, and she reached out for someone who wasn’t there. Aliyah squeezed the ermine gently, wincing at the tremors of alone too far so far oh so far away that shuddered through her. The ermine twitched and Aliyah let the anger grow, burn out the sadness and sympathy and the pain of being away.
Her jaws tightened.
The children’s scents grew stronger, nearer. They were close. They had to go a little farther and then Aliyah could go back to Erik, have his hands soothe the crags out of her fur and the ache from her chest.
The ermine keened again, twitching feebly, and the anger flared white-hot behind Aliyah’s eyes, mingling with empathy and pity.
At least she had a human to return to.
“Hush, little one,” she said around her mouthful. She squeezed the poor thing lightly, trying to offer comfort. The ermine quieted, too tired to cry out again, and Aliyah continued walking, her vision narrowing into furious, white-lined tunnels.
Rage tasted like iron on her tongue.
How could someone-anyone-do what had been done? She didn’t understand. All she knew was the rage, singing like metal in her ears, whispering for blood and violence and golden dust.
Her paws sank into the soft earth, scattering leaves, and she dug her claws briefly into the dirt with each step.
She was close. The children probably knew she was coming-she was protected against Iskierka but the ermine was not-but Aliyah wasn’t concerned. She wasn’t here to fight with them.
She was here to deliver a message.
Familiar shapes pushed at the edges of her mind, tasting like metal and memory. The satellite dish loomed to the side, the plumbing snaked under her paws, and the wiring inside the mansion hummed and sang. She mapped out her old home in her mind and walked, her paws sinking deep into the earth to mix with a lion’s tracks and a lemur’s handprints and a little bird’s clawed marks.
It was strange, how well she knew the mansion now.
A sudden, sharp rage-pulse flared in her chest, tearing loose a growl, and fur bristled down her spine. She felt the pipes below her moan, pulled towards her, and the ermine whimpered.
Her eyes flashed, and she ran, bounding the last few hundred meters until she burst, claws outstretched and gleaming, from the forest onto the lawn of Charles’s home.
The mansion’s lights were on, but the children were all outside. She couldn’t see them yet but she smelled them, and their presence shivered down her spine. The metal all around her howled, vibrating, and she reflexively bared her teeth. She hoped the children didn’t want a fight, because today they would lose.
She dropped the ermine and it shivered on the grass, too weak to move, and Aliyah threw back her head and roared.
“Children!” she thundered. “Show yourselves.”
Two eyes opened not far away. A lioness crouched in the darkness, her teeth bared in a snarl, and Alex stood with his hand on her shoulders.
Another growl rippled and Hank-Beast, Aliyah thought-stepped forward, tall and ferocious in the moonlight. His daemon, a lemur, clung to his shoulder, her eyes wide and bright.
A shadow flitted over the moon and Sean dove, wings outstretched, his daemon a blue-silver whirl around his head.
“Why are you here?” Alex said roughly, and she could the discomfort in his eyes, the tightly controlled anger. “Where’s Er-Magneto?”
Aliyah growled at him lowly, warningly. “Peace,” she said. “I’m not here for you.”
There was a shift in him-straightening shoulders, curling fists, a violent, sudden tension in his lioness’s face-and light seemed to splinter from his fingertips.
“Why are you here?”
Aliyah tilted her great head, sinking low into a hunter’s crouch. The fury and the metal crashed inside of her, welled up through her paws and fangs and eyes, and she bared her teeth in a bloody, vicious tiger-grin.
“Intercision,” she said, and waited for Alex to understand.
***
The Lion was great and mighty, and he feared no one.
This, as it turned out, was a mistake.
***
III.
Alex stared at the tigress in front of him and felt fear spike down his back. Arinna crouched at his side, teeth bared, sunlight flaring in her belly, and he tangled his fingers into her fur.
Aliyah stood and glared, her fur cragging down her shoulders in bristling spines. Erik wasn’t with her, and the squirming, aching feeling of wrong, so wrong twisted in Alex’s chest. He never got used to seeing the tiger without her human. It was just-just-wrong, even if the Professor tried to soothe the discomfort out of him, tried to tell him that it was alright, Erik and Aliyah were like the witches and shamans of kid’s stories. They could separate and feel no pain.
Alex fought the urge to press Arinna against him until the shaking stopped. He couldn’t show weakness, not now.
He steeled himself.
“Why are you here?”
“Intercision,” Aliyah snarled, low and deep, and for the first time Alex tore his eyes off her and looked at the shadowy creature at her feet.
An ermine so pale it was almost translucent lay in the shivering grass, and its tiny chest heaved. Its eyes were closed and it made an awful sound, pitiful, lonely, and suddenly Alex was very, very cold.
Hank staggered back, retching, and Alex saw Hesione, his daemon, bury her face into his blue fur. Sean hadn’t realized yet-he and Einín flew in their tight, controlled loops, watching the tigress. They didn’t understand.
Arinna choked on a growl, going so tight and tense at Alex’s side that she shook with it, and the light trembled inside them both.
“That’s-” she said, and the words caught in her throat. Her tail thrashed and a snarl, wild and wounded, ripped free and echoed in Alex’s bones.
He looked down at his hands and realized they were shaking.
Professor…
“Is that,” he managed, asking the great tiger harshly. “Is that what I think it is?”
Arinna pressed against his leg and sickness and fear toppled through them.
When Charles told him that someone was prowling in the forest, Alex had expected Aliyah to come with lies and sweet words on her tongue, or rage in her eyes, and either try to recruit them one last time or to kill them all.
But this, this-
Alex, Charles said, and his mind-voice was tight. Be strong, Alex. It’s alright. It’s alright.
Sorry, Prof, he thought, and Aliyah’s golden eyes sparked. It’s really, really not.
“Yes,” said the tigress. Her voice was oddly gentle even though she was wound for a fight. Alex remembered, suddenly, unwillingly, that she had once been one of his teachers.
“That’s a-” Alex was dimly aware that he was holding on to Arinna so tightly he could feel it at the back of his neck.
“Severed daemon,” Aliyah finished, and now Alex saw the hot, terrible rage boiling in her eyes, just below her skin. He remembered that she was now his enemy, and his grip on his own daemon tightened.
“Severed-” he choked, and now Sean understood because he abruptly forgot to scream and dropped several feet. “You’re cutting them apart?”
Fury tasted like sunlight on his tongue.
“You’re sick-”
Aliyah roared, the kind of roar that ripped into Alex’s body and flattened Arinna’s ears and sent birds fleeing into the air, that shuddered across the ground and made pipes punch out of the ground.
Before he knew exactly what was happening he was flat on his back, gasping for breath, and pipes and wires bit against his skin.
Arinna roared, startled, and twisted against her new restraints.
Prof!
Hold still, Alex, I’m coming-
No, stay-
I’m coming, Alex, just stay still. She won’t hurt you.
Aliyah growled softly, suddenly right next to Alex’s ear, and he jerked, trying to get away from her so he could let the light out.
“We,” she said, her fangs flashing near his face. He was painfully aware that, with a snap, she could bite his head off. “Did not do this.”
Arinna snarled and Alex felt her heat up, energy surging under fur, and the tigress looked away briefly to pin the daemon down tighter.
“The humans did this,” Aliyah snarled. “A government agency, operating in the north. They took a mutant, hardly more than a child, and they cut his daemon away from him.”
Alex’s stomach rolled.
Intercision.
Aliyah leaned in, very, very close. “We told you,” she said. “We warned you this would happen. When they come for you, you know why.”
She smelled like hot metal, this close, all blood and fire and iron. Arinna growled, fearless, and twisted against Alex. She itched for a fight, for revenge, and the sunlight skittered through her, through them, and he concentrated.
“Aliayh!” Charles’s voice was sharp and sudden, and it was enough to drag the tigress’s attention away from Alex. He watched her stiffen, all the way down to her claws, and he remembered the beach and how they had howled-
The light swelled in Alex’s veins and he focused, narrowing his concentration to the bands of metal wrapped around him. He felt Arinna do the same.
“Charles,” Aliyah said, and to Alex it almost sounded tender.
And then the roar of sunlight drowned everything else out and he let it go, tearing hot and bright up and up through the metal wrapped around him, blowing it into nothing.
Arinna burst up and pounced, slamming into Aliyah with all her force, howling and clawing like a mad thing. The tiger roared, lashing out, and Arinna was brave but Aliyah was bigger, was stronger, was half-mad with wild fury. Alex felt claws rake across his daemon’s face, and paws pummel her head, and he gritted his teeth against the onslaught.
“Arinna!” he shouted. A blow to her chest sent him staggering, gasping for air, and he saw Hank’s lemur leap into the fray, suddenly displaying her wicked teeth and long, sharp claws, and Einín dove from the sky-
Aliyah roared and roared, the ground around her churning, and she knocked the little bird aside hard enough to make Sean drop.
Arinna thundered back, teeth bared, sunlight gleaming down her claws-
“Enough!” Charles shouted, and everything stopped. Sean landed hard and scooped up Einín, cradling her to his chest. Hesione the lemur hissed at the tiger but returned to Hank, perching watchfully on his shoulder. Only Arinna stayed facing her opponent, her teeth bared in fury. Aliyah herself stood very still, every muscle in her body visibly trembling, with one paw raised and the claws hooked and wicked.
Her eyes flared, molten, and her tail lashed. All around them Alex heard the creaking and groaning, and he waited for her to strike.
But it never came, because Charles’s daemon Iskierka was on the ground between Aliyah and Arinna, her wings outstretched and her eyes bright and fierce.
Alex had forgotten how big Iskierka actually was.
Aliyah stared at the golden eagle for a long time, her body shuddering, and then she finally lowered her paw.
Charles breathed.
“Aliyah,” he said. Iskierka folded her wings but remained on the ground, watching the tigress silently.
“Charles,” Aliyah replied.
“You will not hurt my students.” Charles Xavier sat at the edges of the patio, framed by the light, and his eyes were hard and uncompromising. Alex felt a rush of pride for his Professor and the sunlight faded out of him. He didn’t need it anymore. Charles would take care of everything.
“I did not come here too,” the tigress retorted. “I came to deliver a message.” She swept a paw at the pale ermine that struggled in the grass.
Waves of pity and sickness washed over Alex and he grabbed his stupid, brave daemon’s fur briefly. She was warm and shaking under his fingers.
“You’re an idiot,” he murmured.
She didn’t answer.
“Your message has been received.” Charles’s voice was clipped, tight, betraying nothing. “You may go.”
For a moment, Alex thought Aliyah would refuse. She stood still, ears pinned flat to her head, claws dug deeply into the earth, and then she turned back towards the forest.
“You may keep the severed daemon,” she said. “You will do him more good than we-”
There was no warning. She was talking one second, facing the forest, and then she was reared back onto her hind legs, clawing madly at the air, and she roared-
Alex had never heard anything like it. He slammed his hands over his hears and the roar shredded through him, shook him down to the iron in his blood. Everything made of metal within three hundred feet blasted out, screeching, and Aliyah roared, leaped into the air, roared and roared and roared-
She landed with a thump, crouching into the grass, snarling deeply in her throat.
Everyone stared at her, shaken, and Alex felt weak, like he didn’t have enough blood in his body anymore.
Her eyes glittered and Alex froze, and he felt fear knot in his belly. Arinna snarled.
Aliyah was beyond furious. The smell of heated metal grew, sharp and vivid, and all around them there was a low, constant groan.
Iskierka remained on the ground, staring at the tigress, and Charles smoothed his hair back into place. He looked as cool and calm as ever but this time Alex noticed (and pretended that he didn’t) that Charles’s hand was shaking.
“What,” said the telepath, and he was steady, “the hell was that?”
The tigress straightened and the look in her eyes made Alex’s blood go cold. Even Arinna, stupid, fearless Arinna, paused.
“Charles,” Aliyah said hoarsely. “Charles, they have Raven.”
continued