Dragon's Claws #33

"I to the world am like a drop of water
That in the ocean seeks another drop,
Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself."
- William Shakespeare, The Comedy of Errors

Pen Dragon stood up as the door opened and Jessica stood there, glaring at him. She was pretty busy at the moment, had been that way ever since they had been brought to Darkmoor by Adam Crown’s guards, something that had led to a battle with the Red Lord himself and a reshaping of the status quo. They had known something like this would happen, and Jessica had now been charged by the Green Knight himself with rebuilding the Pendragons while Crown governed the British Isles.

The differences the two of them might have had were put aside. Jessica didn’t want his throne, and he was no longer torn between being a hero and being a King. She’d been given advisory status to the throne though, sitting on the Round Table with Crown’s other advisors, and at the moment they were planning a tribute to those who had were missing and those who were known to have died. It would be a state occasion, along with the funeral of Crown’s wife and a way for Adam to unite the people of Great Britain. So he said.

Pen was a bit more cynical, but he’d been gone a few days sorting out things of his own. They’d known that the Dragon’s Claws had needed a revamp and, through fortune rather than design, he pretty much had his team together now. There would be a link between his team and hers, though he knew he and Jess were going to disagree about one issue, but after the last few days he knew he was right in his decision.

“Where the hell have you been?” she asked as she entered and he wished he had a cigarette. “I got back from Avalon and you’d gone.”

“I know,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t think I’d be gone that long, but… things got in the way.” He shrugged. “You know me.”

She sighed. “Yes I do. Three days you’ve been gone. You can find stir something up in minutes, so God knows what trouble you can cause in three days.”

He gave her a grin. “In my defence, I don’t go looking for trouble, we just keep crossing paths.”

“Well, you’re back now, and I’m glad because I could do with your help on the list.”

“List?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m going through the list of people I want to be on the new Pendragons team. Adam and I have talked about it, since he knows the former Pendragons best and, we’ve compared notes. I think I have my list, but I want your advice as well.”

Pen nodded. “Fair enough. Take my name off.”

“I’m sorry?” she said, stunned. She’d not expected him to say that. “Take your name off the list? Aside from being arrogant enough to think you’d make I on the list…”

“Jess, you know bloody well I’m on the list, but I’m not a Pendragon,” he said. “I’m the Pen Dragon, and I’m perfectly happy with being on Dragon’s Claws. Besides what kind of mad bastard would take on both teams at once? Working on two projects like ours at the same time would take a special kind of lunacy, and I’m just not far gone.” She looked hurt, and he knew she felt betrayed, that he was letting her down, and in a sense he was. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Jessica, Dragon’s Claws will be an extension of the Pendragons, like we planned, but I just can’t do both.”

“But I need you,” she whispered. “You bring that special kind of madness to things, and you also have a way of cutting through the crap.” And I want you there as well, she didn’t add. She didn’t want to pressure him in to it, not like that. He looked at her and he knew that they were okay again.

“I know,” he said, knowing what she wasn’t saying and he wasn’t going to say anything about it either. “But that’s why I’ve been sorting out my replacement, someone else who can bring that special kind of madness.” There was a twinkle in his eye again and Jessica knew he was up to something. “Remember, I’m not the only one of me in this reality. Not anymore…”

“Where are you sloping off to?” Wynter said as Pen Dragon exited Darkmoor, looking for transport to London. The battle for Adam Crown’s soul had been won and there wasn’t much more he could do here.

“London,” he said. The two men had a certain animosity between them, dating back centuries. Pen wasn’t too bothered about it all, he still knew things about Wynter that even Wynter didn’t know and he’d lived with worse. Of course, he was still rather annoyed about how Wynter had convinced Merlyn to have him buried in place of Arthur. Yes, it had been necessary in the end, but at the same time, it had been uncalled for, considering the actions that had led them there. “Going recruiting for Jessica.”

“You’re so sure she’ll be the leader of the Pendragons,” the mage said, a disparaging tone in his voice and Pen smiled.

“I have it on the very best authority,” he replied. “It always helps to be one step ahead of the game.” He stopped himself. “I’ve been on Otherworld way too long, I’m talking like one of you now.”

“You’ve always been one of us,” Wynter said. “You just never really knew it.”

Pen sighed. “Are you really that pissed at me for shagging your sister? It was several lifetimes ago now, and she doesn’t remember.”

“You’d think,” Wynter said softly. “My father underestimated her resilience. She remembers you, she remembers every moment of it all. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at you. I remember when you married on Otherworld, I remember how she tried so hard not to cry when you recited your vows.”

Pen stopped dead at this revelation. “She knows? And she’s never said?”

“Merlyn,” he said. “All for him. My sister has always been the favourite for a reason, with everyone she’s ever met.”

“So you’re pissed off because I didn’t sleep with you?” Pen was a bit confused.

“No, I’m pissed off because she got something else without trying, whereas I’ve had to work like hell to get everything I have, and you? You’re the constant reminder of it all.”

“So you took me away from her to punish her?” Wynter said nothing and Pen shook his head in disgust. “You really have one messed up family. Thank God your mother never lived to see how you both turned out, she was a decent lass.”

“What do you know about my mother?” Pen realised what he’d said and he shook his head. They weren’t supposed to know.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Now, I have to get to London.”

“I’ll take you,” Wynter volunteered and Pen raised an eyebrow, questioning him. “I don’t like you, but you’ve a part to play in all this, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t find out what.”

“So you’re going to keep an eye on me?” The wizard nodded. “Figures.”

“So who are we going to find?”

Pen smiled. “Me.”

“I’m sorry, you’re who?” Wynter had to suppress a wry chuckle and Pen shook his head in disbelief.

“Pen Dragon? Dragon’s Claws?” Pete looked blank. “I keep saving the world from aliens. Well, I help.” Pete shook his head.

“Never heard of you. There’s been a Barrier up though.”

“It’s been gone over six months!” Pen said, a note of irritation in his voice. “Bloody typical is this.”

“So who are you?”

“I’m an alternate version of you, who came from another timeline to help save reality, but while I was doing that my timeline was destroyed, leaving me exiled. I was sent to this timeline by Katherine Pryde-Rasputin to ensure the Martians didn’t conquer the world, which could only happen while you and I were on opposite sides of the Barrier.”

“The Barrier’s down though,” said Pete. “Small problem?”

“I kind of went back in time and got killed, so I was resurrected by Merlyn and he removed the problem so we can both exist in the same era.”

“You died?”

“Oh, and I got married in your name to a woman in Japan,” Pen said. “Congratulations you’re a husband and a father.”

“I’M A WHAT?!” Pete said in staggered horror, then he winced in pain. “No wonder my head hurts.”

“Oh that’s just temporal feedback,” said Wynter. “Headaches, short term amnesia, sensory distortions and the like. He’s immune to it, you’re not and the closer you are to each other in this timeline, the worse it is.” He looked at Pen. “You really think he’s Pendragons material?”

“I know he is,” Pen replied, firmly. “He’s me.”

“I need a drink,” said Pete, in a state of utter confusion. “This is just…”

“Pete,” said a voice and he turned, to see the blonde, standing there, wearing one of his shirts, a choker around her neck on which hung a small pendant. “Who are these people?”

“Elsa Bloodstone?” said Wynter, staring at her. “You’re Elsa Bloodstone.”

“Wynter,” Elsa said, adopting a fighting stance

“Damn, I have great taste in women,” Pen murmured. “What’s the problem?”

“She was conspiring with Noble Kale and Stephen Strange to prevent the fall of the Barrier,” said Wynter. “After the Pendragons opened a hole, she worked to try and seal it again. We… disagreed.”

“The world’s changing because you didn’t listen,” she said, glowering at him. “Magick is flooding the world. There are dark forces awakening across the planet, old Gods returning to the fore and everything I’ve been fighting my whole life…” She shook her head. “You didn’t listen.”

“This is going well,” said Pen and Pete in unison, and they looked at each other.

“Elsa, this is Pen Dragon.” Pete gestured.

“You’re Pen Dragon?” she said and looked him up and down. “I thought you’d be taller.”

“She’s heard of you,” said Pete, trying to be helpful. “So, aside from me being married, which we’ll get in to later, you want me to be a Pendragon?” Pen nodded.

“You’ve got certain mystical abilities,” he said. “A little gift from me to you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve made a powerful enemy in the Bane, and I figured he might come after you, so I thought I’d even the odds. You’re more alert to magical things, and you have the power to disrupt magick energies, and they have no effect on you because you absorb their power, in the same way you absorb solar energy to form your hot knives.”

“I have mystic hot knives?”

“Mystical daggers at the very least,” said Pen. “You just need to work on it.”

“How powerful am I?” Pete asked.

“No idea,” Pen said, “but there’ll be more you can do with your mystical abilities than just energy blades. They might have all new properties that even I don’t know of. That’s the thing with magic. It’s rather… unpredictable.”

“How did you give him that kind of power?” asked Wynter.

“It’s amazing what you can do with a little help,” said Pen. “You think I spent the centuries sitting on my arse and not watching what Merlyn and Roma did? There are people in Darkmoor who can help him, Shevaun, you… I’m a bit lost after those but still.”

“You want me to be a Pendragon? But why?”

“Because these aren’t going to be the usual kind,” said Pen. “They need someone who thinks and works like you do, and I’m going to be busy fighting the Time War. I need you to keep them honest.”

“I like the sound of that,” said Pete, pondering what was being said. “Good benefits?”

“Well,” said Pen, but before he could talk further there was a wave of energy that scooped them all up and they were no longer in the home of Pete Wisdom, but it looked very familiar. “Are we where I think we are?” Pen said, looking at Wynter. “Because I’d swear this is Limbo.”

“I think we have a problem,” said Wynter. “Limbo collapsed in on itself, it’s gone.”

“Erm, what are they?” asked Elsa as she pointed and they turned to see strange and misshapen forms coming towards them. They looked like Space Phantoms, but they seemed to lack a coherent form.

“What if Limbo collapsed in on itself and this is the ruined remains, cast out in to a dimensional pocket?” asked Pen, trying to figure what was going on. “What if the Limbo that we thought of as Limbo became the Limbo that like Belasco thought of as Limbo, and the things that were Space Phantoms became demons, because…”

“Find out later, fight now?” Pete suggested as the creatures came upon them.

“I’m so not dressed for monster fighting,” Elsa said, as she did a high kick, sending the closest one flying, the shirt lifting up slightly to reveal how naked she was under that shirt.

“Can you magic her some clothes?” Pen asked, looking at Wynter. “Otherwise fighting may get a bit uncomfortable for us three?” He fired some hot knives off, dropping the creatures and Wynter cast a simple spell, restoring her clothing.

“Thanks,” she said. “I feel more like myself again.” She moved with an acrobatic speed and grace that simply amazed Pen, even moreso when she hit, because she was strong too.

“Who the hell is she?” he asked, as he threw hot knives, while Pete experimented with mystic knives and Wynter cast spells of his own, sending bolts of eldritch energy flying.

“Elsa?” Wynter said. “She’s the daughter of Ulysses Bloodstone.”

“The gem around her neck gives her certain powers, but she also has some natural abilities as well,” Pete said. “Strong, fast, heals quickly, but they’re certainly upped by the Bloodstone.”

“She usually has some special weapons and the like,” Wynter said, “though obviously not right now.”

“Wonder if she’s busy?” Pen mused as he grabbed a creature and slammed his fist in to what resembled it’s face. “She’d make a great member of Dragon’s Claws.”

“You’re offering me a job?” she said, and he realised he’d spoken aloud. “What’s the pay like?”

“Not too bad, we’re bank-rolled by the Royal Family of Otherworld,” he shouted back.

“Can I get back to you?”

“Sure,” Dragon said. “Consider this a test; see if we can work together.” She nodded and hit one of the creatures with a head-butt, as Pen and Pete hit out with a left cross that was almost identical on two different creatures. One of them bit Elsa, who cried out but the power of the Bloodstone kicked in and, almost as if the creature were a vampire, the taste of her blood killed the creature. It writhed around in pain a moment and then it was dead.

“We don’t have time for this,” said Wynter and he raised his hands casting a spell that created winds and the creatures were all blown away by the hurricane forces he has summoned.

“One of these days I’ll be able to have a week off,” Pen muttered to himself. “Always on the go of late.”

“This is Limbo,” Wynter confirmed. “What’s left of it anyway. The space phantoms are mindless creatures now, working on basic survival methods. Find prey, eat prey, sleep. If it survived, we should be able to activate the defences of the citadel.”

“We might even find Kate,” Pen said. “I know there was nothing we could do, but leaving her behind…”

Wynter put his hand on Dragon’s shoulder. “I know, but there’s something else. The magic we use here – that’s myself, Elsa and Pete – will be trapped here. Mystical energy will gather within this place.”

“We’re creating the demon Limbo, aren’t we?” said Pete and Wynter nodded, confirming Pen’s original suspicions. “From the ruins of the Limbo that existed outside of time? So when are we?”

“I don’t know,” Wynter admitted. “Past, present, future. This is timeless, so I have no idea. There’s something else – I can’t feel anything outside of here. Unless we find a way home, I think we’re trapped.” The reality of that statement dawned on them all, but only one of them wasn’t worried

“Not a problem,” said Pen, pulling his St Christopher medallion from underneath his shirt. “I can use this as a tracking device for now.”

“I have a question,” Elsa said. “I know a bit about Limbo, and as I remember whoever is in charge, or has the greater will, or whatever can command the creatures to become whatever they want to be.”

“Yeah,” said Pete. “Kitty and I talked about it, the time when she was tricked by Dr Doom…”

“In to giving him the Soulsword of Illyana Rasputin, and it took the combined effort of Excalibur and the Avengers West Coast to stop him, I remember,” said Pen. “Elsa?”

“There’s nobody in charge at the moment, so surely it would be the one of us with the strongest will…”

“Aside from the fact we still don’t know how we got here,” Wynter said, “we’d better be careful. Clear our minds of any… distractions.” The others nodded and Pen took the lead, feeling the medallion drawing him in a certain direction. He’d used this before when he’d been exploring Limbo, before he’d formed the first team of Claws. They walked on, Wynter concentrating on keeping his mind clear, believing himself to be the strongest willed of them due to his heritage, while Pen and Pete compared notes as Elsa listened to them. It was an interesting comparison to see how their lives had been different from one small point in history.

“So,” she asked, “when you were in New Camelot, after you’d stopped being Arthur, what did you do?”

“Not much,” Pen answered. “I really wanted to go Wembley in 86 and see Queen play their last live show. I watched from New Camelot, but I’d have loved to have been there, but I couldn’t without the Bane knowing I was alive. Wouldn’t have minded watching them blow Live Aid away as well. Freddie was on such incredible form…”

“Eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy-oh!” came a powerfully sung note and the four of them stopped dead.

“Was that what I thought it was?” said Pen, looking at them, looking a little pale as well.

“Buddy you’re a boy, make a big noise, playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday…” They looked about and Elsa saw it first and pointed. It was Freddie Mercury. Or at least a Space Phantom in the form of Freddie Mercury.

“Who did that?” said Wynter.

“Could be a good thing,” Pete suggested. “If we can give them form, then we can stop them too. It’s not like we imagined Big Bird, or ALF, or something weird like that.”

“Excuse me,” said a small orange haired alien that was wandering over to them. “Do you

“Ok,” said Wynter, slightly annoyed by the fact it wasn’t him and that one of the three of them had a stronger will than he did, “you need to stop it now.” The other three concentrated, clearing their minds and ALF opened his mouth, his snout like nose lifting up as he did so, and inside his mouth were dark fangs, and there were others appearing too, hundreds of Melmacians, each with ravenous eyes, and glistening fangs. Pen reacted first and booted ALF in his furry little stomach, sending him hurtling away as if he were some great hairy football.

“This isn’t getting much better is it?” said Pete as he flung round after round of hot knives at them driving them back, as they aliens began to return to their default state without the mental image in the mind of one of the four giving them form.

“I think we’d be best served running,” said Pen. “Shall we?” There was a general nod and they started to move out and quickly. With luck they would be able to find an intact part of the Citadel and be able to secure it. If not, they’d be over-run, and they still had to make it without getting killed.

Inside the Citadel, he watched on the monitors and smiled a dark smile. He had brought them all here, even though he had only wanted Pen Dragon. The equipment was very badly damaged and he had been unable to grab just Pen Dragon, it did not matter.

He smiled as he turned to look at the ghostly form of Kate-Pryde Rasputin, trapped fly a fly in amber and unable to do anything to stop him from his master plan. The Psi-Witch had thought she could hold him, but she had been wrong. His power was greater than hers was, and in her concern over her colleague he had managed to escape her hold, leaving her with the impression he was still ensnared within her mind.

All he had had to do was bide his time and wait for the right moment, and he had watched the self styled protector of Time try in vain to stop what was happening. He knew she would fail, because she did not look far enough in to the future. He was well aware of the conflicts that had arisen, why Limbo had fallen, and that a great Time War was upon them.

Soon not only would this fledgling Limbo dimension be his to command, and then he would use his new and mighty army to seize his destiny, the throne of Otherworld, and in doing so he would take revenge on the House Braddock and their ilk and he would use Pen Dragon to accomplish it, and this time there would be nobody to stop him…