"Would someone mind taking over the driving?" Jean asked. "I think I left my eyes somewhere on the road about five miles back."

"I’ll do it," Strange offered. Jean pulled the van over, and they switched places, with Jean sitting with Rogue in the middle bench seat.

"You okay?" Rogue asked as Jean leaned her head back and rubbed her eyes.

"Just a little headache from the glare. Between the sun and the wheat fields, I feel like the horizon’s been seared onto my retinas."

"Put this on for a few minutes," Will suggested, leaning forward and handing her his sleep mask.

"Thanks," she said, placing it over her eyes. "Ah, that’s better."

"No problem." Will returned his attention to the notebook that he had been scribbling in for the past hour.

"What are you working on, anyway?"

"Chapter Two."

"That was cryptic. Chapter Two of what?"

"My contractually due novel."

"You finally decided on a genre?" Rogue asked.

He nodded. "It’s going to be a hard-boiled detective mystery."

"Not a bad choice," Henry said. "Mysteries always tend to sell well."

"That wasn’t my main consideration," Will admitted, "but I won’t complain if it’s popular. If we ever have to go public, having a bestseller under my belt might help our public relations. It would show people that we’re not sitting in the shadows, waiting to pounce on them."

"That’s a good point," he admitted. "I’ve found that some of my strongest support over the years has come from my old colleagues from the Brand Corporation, and my fellow graduate school alumnae. Once they learned to look past my newly hirsute appearance, they discovered that I was the same obsessive, absent-minded workaholic that I had always been, and they treated me accordingly."

Ororo nodded. "Unfortunately, we can’t all be as open with our identities. We have to be careful about where and how we work openly."

"I know," Will replied. "That’s why I’ve been spending some time brainstorming ideas to fix that."

Jean lifted the sleep mask off her eyes and twisted around in her seat to look at Will. "Like what?"

Will and Rogue described, briefly, the basic outline of Will’s plans for economic influence, expanding the intelligence capacity of the Mutant Underground, and sabotage of their enemies’ plans.

"You have been busy, haven’t you?" Strange asked when they were done.

"We all need a hobby," Will shrugged.

"When can you get started on this?" Ororo questioned.

Will thought for a moment. "I can’t think of any reason why I can’t get started right now. Did anybody keep the paper from this morning?"

"Here you go," Bobby said, handing it to him.

"Thanks." He turned his attention to the financial section. "At least they have the Standard and Poor 500," he said to himself. "That gives me something to work with." He was silent for the next few minutes as he scribbled in his notebook. "That should be enough for tomorrow," he decided. "What time is it?"

"About two," Rogue told him.

"Making it eight in Dublin. He should still be in his office."

"Who should?"

"Jeffrey Riordhan, my attorney and financial advisor. Can we pull in at the next rest stop so I can give him a call?"

"No need," Ororo said, handing him a cellular phone. "I thought that we would need it eventually."

"There’s no risk of my frying it, is there, Stephen?"

"None."

"Good." Will pulled out his wallet and flipped through it until he found his long distance card. A few moments later, he was waiting for someone on the other end of the line to pick up.

"Hi, Jeff, it’s Will. Because you always work late, then sleep late. That’s one of the reasons I like you.

"Listen, I want you to set up a mutual fund for some friends of mine. Ten for now, with more slots to be added later. Set it up as a corporation, but make it a subsidiary of TNO, Inc.. I’ll send you the contracts by courier in the next week or so. Set it up with a five thousand punt loan for each share…. no, better make that ten thousand. Once the value of the fund doubles, take half of any further profit and apply it to the initial debt of the individual funds. The other half gets rolled back into the main fund. Once the initial debts are wiped out, the full profit gets rolled over. Got all that? Good. Okay, here’s the timetable for tomorrow." He quickly rattled off the names of several companies, then gave the values at which he wanted them purchased and sold on the stock exchange.

"Next subject: I’m going to have some assignments for the Research Division soon, so you might want to open up the Crypt and dust them off. If they start whining, remind them that I’m the one who signs the paychecks and owns the equipment, and that despite what they might think, I don’t pay them to download porn from the Web.

"All right, that should be it for now. I’ll be in Dublin in two weeks or so for our quarterly review. Here’s an idea…. why don’t you have Nuala and Maire join us, and we’ll make a day of it? It’s been, what, two years since I saw them last? Maire’s how old? Oh, great, thank you for making me feel ancient. Another birthday that week? Okay, then, why don’t we surprise her and take her out? Rent a limo for the day and make some reservations at someplace fancy. Make sure that she gets a nice new dress for the night, and put it on my tab. Hold on a second." He put his hand over the mouthpiece and looked at Rogue. "You want to come?"

Rogue thought about it. For about one second. "Sure."

Will nodded, smiling, then turned his attention back to the phone. "Make the reservation for five. My girlfriend, May, will be joining us. Good. See you then." He turned the phone off and handed it back to Ororo. "I’ll have those contracts drawn up when we get to Chicago. It should only take a half-hour or so at a computer. I’ll get a notary to stamp them, and have your funds started the next day."

"That is very generous of you," Ororo told him, "but I have to admit that part of me has absorbed enough of your cynicism to wonder what your ulterior motive is."

Will shrugged. "It’s not exactly hard to figure out. I want to make sure that the X-Men can protect themselves in case a situation comes up where powers and fighting skills don’t mean anything. By the time I’m done, you’ll all be secure financially…. off the books, of course…. and have a few extra, absolutely secure identities that you can slip into if you ever have to rabbit."

"What was that company you mentioned?"

"TNO Inc. It stands for Tir na Og, the Gaelic name for the Otherworld."

"Your people are reliable, and discreet?"

"I pay only for the best. They know that I treat them better than any of my competitors, so it’s in their best interest to stay loyal and keep their skills up to date."

"What was that Crypt you mentioned?" Strange asked.

"That’s the nickname we use for the place in Dublin where they work…. and play…. and pretty much live, now that I think about it. They aren’t exactly social divas…. and my standards for social interaction are a lot lower than most other people’s. They’re Americans, mostly, and they fit every stereotype about computer programmers that there is. We started calling the place the Crypt when Jeff joked once that we’d have to keep them out of direct sunlight and make sure that their take-out food didn’t have too much garlic."

Rogue giggled. "Sounds like Kitty would have a blast talking with them. It’s been a while since she could talk shop with anybody."

"That may not be such a good idea. Being in close proximity to a living, breathing, attractive female would probably make their brains explode from the hormone rush."

Rogue smiled naughtily. "Maybe I should make a surprise visit while you’re there, and make sure that I’m wearing something that’s pretty revealing."

"No, because that would make my brain explode from the hormone rush."

Rogue smiled at the others. "Doesn’t he say the sweetest things?"

About an hour later, Henry looked at the tapes that Jean had purchased, trying to find something to play. "Let’s see…. Stones…. U2…. Fleetwood Mac…."

"And The Best of Queen," Will added.

"I didn’t buy that," Jean objected. 

"Doesn’t matter. Pop in one of those tapes, and the Gaiman-Pratchett Law will kick in eventually."

"The what?"

"Trust me."

"Any arguments against stopping for lunch?" Strange asked. 

"None here," Henry said. "I’m ravenous."

"Yes, Henry," Will said dryly, "you look positively emaciated."

"Be nice."

"What are our choices?" Rogue asked.

"Well, I’ve seen signs for home-style cooking, Italian, Japanese, and McBurgers."

"Let’s do Italian," Bobby suggested. "If they do sandwiches, we can get some for dinner, and skip a dinner stop later tonight."

"Good idea," Ororo agreed.

"Italian food, twenty minutes ahead," Strange announced. 

About ten minutes later, however, he slowed down and pulled over to the shoulder of the road. "We may be delayed a while," he said as he cut the engine.

"What’s the problem?" Bobby asked.

"There’s a lot of magical activity in the area. Can you feel it, Will?"

Will nodded as he sat up and put on his shoes. "It feels like agricultural magic. Maybe a farmer is trying to make sure he gets a good crop this year?"

"No, it’s too late in the season for that. This only feels a few hours old."

"Harvest ritual?"

"Maybe. Give me a moment to see if I can narrow it down." He stepped out of the van and walked towards the vast expanse of grain which stretched out before them. "It’s about three hundred meters that way."

"It might be best if you and I go on ahead. If it’s hostile, you and I have the strongest magical defenses."

"Good idea. Ororo, you and the others should stay about fifty yards behind us. Jean, I’d suggest setting up a psychic cloak."

"All right. Be careful."

Strange nodded and gestured, transforming his clothing into his magical garb. His coat levitated him into the air, and another wave of his hand lifted Will along with him. They cautiously made their way towards the disturbance.

"Rogue," Jean asked, "do you feel up to flying on your own?"

"No problem. We’d better keep low," she advised Ororo as she floated up. "We don’t want to spook any farmers."

Ororo nodded, summoning a wind to raise herself up, while Jean used her telekinesis to support herself, Henry and Bobby. They were all careful to stay no more than three decimeters or so above the field of wheat. After a few moments, Ororo noticed a gap in the rows of grain, somewhat circular in shape. Pointing it out to the others, she glided down towards it.

Will and Strange were there, standing in the center of an area where the wheat had apparently been harvested and tied into sheaves. They were both looking over the ground, nudging loose stalks of grain aside with their toes. "Found one," Strange said from a spot near the edge of the circle.

Will nodded and strode over to a point on the circle opposite Strange. "And here’s the other one," he said after a moment.

"What did you find?" Ororo asked.

"Take a look," he suggested, gesturing for them to come closer. "Just don’t touch anything."

They walked over to him, then looked down, where they saw a small doll, about three decimeters tall, made of bound straw. It had no hands or feet, and the face was featureless, but certain anatomical details made it clear that the figure was male. It was also, to put it delicately, ready for action.

"Well," Bobby said, "that doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it?"

"The other one’s a bit more abstract," Strange said as he walked over.

"Let me guess," Will said. "A Brigid’s Cross."

"Right."

Rogue and Ororo, who had both spoken with Will about his religious faith, and read a few books that he had lent to them, looked at one another for a moment. "Are you saying that a fertility ritual took place here?" Ororo asked.

"It looks that way," Strange confirmed. "About two hours ago would be my guess, since they’re traditionally held at either midnight or high noon."

"I’m glad we didn’t pass by this way earlier," Will said. "I really would have been embarrassed if we’d barged in on them while they were in flagrante delecti."

"You would have been embarrassed?" Bobby asked. "What about them?"

"They probably would have been so deeply in a trance state that they wouldn’t even have noticed us."

Strange concentrated for a moment. "We may have a problem, Will."

"What’s that?"

"They never closed the gate."

"Oh, boy," Will said apprehensively. "Think we can do it?"

"It’ll be difficult, given the way it was opened."

"The feedback’s going to be a bear."

"My shields can handle it."

"Great, but what about me? I don’t exactly have conventional shields."

"The structure of your mind should act as a barrier to some degree," Jean told him. "If you start acting suspiciously, I’ll just knock you out."

"How?"

"I can close off the blood flow to your brain for a few seconds if I have to. That should knock you out."

"I think the fact that I’m trying this raises the argument that there is no blood supply to my brain."

"Could somebody please explain this to me?" Bobby said in exasperation.

Will and Strange looked at one another for a moment, then Strange nodded at Will to continue. "About two hours ago, two people preformed a variation on an ancient ritual found in some ancient European societies. They cleared this spot out and dedicated it to the Great Goddess and the Horned God. When they did that, they opened up certain psychic and magical gates. They asked for divine assistance in preserving the fertility of the land, then entered a shared trance and took on the personas of the deities. They made love, channeling the resulting psychic energy into the earth. When they were done, they left, but they forgot to close the gates that they had opened."

"And now," Strange finished, "all sorts of things could wander on through, attracted by the magic that they raised."

"So you have to close the gates to prevent this," Henry concluded.

"Exactly." He looked up. "It looks like they raised a Cone of Power, Will. I’ll head up to the apex, and you can work from the base."

Will nodded. "This is going to be very annoying. I’m not used to working widdershins."

"Neither am I, but it can’t be helped." Strange turned to the others. "It’s probably a good idea for the rest of you to step back, beyond the edge of the circle."

Ororo nodded. "Anything else?"

"Not yet. We’ll let you know when we’re done."

"Be careful," Rogue cautioned Will.

"I plan to be," he promised. "And you be careful after this is over."

Rogue looked at him, puzzled, but said nothing as she joined the others among the stalks of grain.

Strange’s coat billowed around him for a moment, and he floated up about twenty feet as Will took his place at the center of the circle. "I’ll follow your lead, Will," he said. "It’s going to be easier for me to match the flow of your magic than it would be for you to work around my spells."

"Right," Will agreed, taking a deep breath. "Okay, here goes." His eyes took on their usual glow, a glow which soon enveloped the whole of his body and expanded until it reached the edge of the circle. Strange made a brief series of gestures, and the glow took on a darker shade, gaining a degree of solidity in the process.

"Think they’ll be okay?" Bobby asked.

"Stephen should be," Rogue said, "but I’m not so sure about Will."

"You aren’t still concerned about his mental state, are you?" Henry asked.

"No, but he’s still pretty weak, physically."

"Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this, then," Jean said with a worried look.

"I think he’d feel worse if we kept him from trying. He thinks he needs to get back to work as soon as he can."

Jean considered that for a moment. "It’s probably the best thing for him right now. He seems to respond best to work therapy, so maybe we should give him something to keep him busy when he gets back."

"Why not a garden?" Ororo suggested.

"I thought flowers were your domain," Bobby said.

"Not a flower garden, a vegetable garden. It fits in with his religious views, I think that he would enjoy it, and it would give me an opportunity to work and speak with him in an informal setting."

"It seems workable," Henry decided, "but what do we have him do when the weather turns cold?"

"Well," Bobby said, thinking aloud, "we haven’t used the stables since Dani and Brightwind left. Why don’t we let him turn them into a workshop? They’re big enough for him to do almost anything in there."

"Good idea," Jean said. "We’ll talk about it later…. if we’re not busy patching Will and Stephen up."

"Quiet down." Rogue said in a hushed voice. "They’ve started."

Will had removed his shoes and socks, and had rolled back his sleeves to reveal his tattoos. He stood on a small pile of corn leaves that he had gathered, primarily to avoid walking directly on the stiff remains of the stumps of cut corn. He held his hands out, palms up, at about stomach level. His eyes glanced up at Strange. "Ready?" he asked.

"Ready. Want me to make it visible?"

Will blinked. "Can you do that? It would make things much easier."

"Consider it done." Strange made a few more gestures, and the air began to shimmer in a manner similar to a heat mirage. 

A large distortion appeared two meters in front of Will, and he braced himself, trying to be as immovable as possible. "I’m going to start closing it now," he told Strange.

He slowly began to bring his hands together, palm-to-palm. As he did so, a series of ripples appeared in the distortion in the air, starting at the edge and moving towards the center, creating an effect which looked like a backwards film of a rock landing in a pool. The distortion began to shrink, losing intensity as Will focused its energies back upon it.

"It’s working, Will," Strange said in encouragement. "Keep it up."

Will nodded, not speaking as sweat broke out on his forehead. He leaned forward slightly in an unconscious effort to add physical strength in his mental struggle. "Almost done," he grunted through clenched teeth as his eyes gleamed. He staggered backwards one step, as if he had been pushed. "Something is fighting me – trying to come through! Can you block it?"

"I’ll try." Strange chanted something unintelligible, and a red glow surrounded the distortion. "That should help hold…."

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, because both he and Will were suddenly hurled backwards against the ‘wall’ of the circle as a blast of energy shattered Strange’s barrier. A large head, crowned by several sharp spikes of bone and bearing a mouth full of fanged teeth, forced its way through the doorway. Fixing its gaze on Will and Strange, it let out a guttural roar.

"Yeah? Well, up yours, too!" Will yelled. "Keep it busy, Stephen! I need a few seconds!"

Strange didn’t answer directly, but a moment later a series of bright lights flashed in front of the creature, driving it back as it howled in pain and rage. "Whatever you’re going to do," Strange yelled, "do it quickly!"

Will nodded, then held his hands out in front of him, palms down. A moment later, streamers of energy arose from the earth below him and danced over his body. The strength of his aura intensified as the dragons on his arms began to writhe and hiss.

"Oh, boy," Rogue said. "He’s really mad now."

"How can you tell?" Bobby asked.

"I can see the muscles in his jaw tightening."

Will, apparently, had had enough. Dispensing with subtlety, he strode up to the floating head. "Go back!" he snapped. The creature only roared in reply. 

Rogue’s jaw dropped as Will drew back his right arm, then drove his fist directly into the creature’s left eye. As it screamed in pain, Will gave it a left cross to the jaw.

"Your time on this world is done! You will not return…. not on my watch!"

Opening its mouth again, the beast let out a large gout of flame, which quickly spread out and engulfed Will’s upper body. The others gasped, expecting a scream of pain from Will, but were stunned when he was revealed to be standing behind a Door, which siphoned off the majority of the flame. His hair and clothes were singed, but other than a burn across his left arm and shoulder, he was unharmed.

"That," he growled, "is enough." He took a step back. "Your kind fouled Mother Earth for far too long. You will not do so again." Raising his right arm, he plucked his sword out of the air. "This is your last warning: Go back. If you continue in this, I will take action."

The creature pushed its way through the portal, forcing a clawed hand through. It tried to take a swipe at Will, who nimbly stepped out of the way.

"I will take that as a refusal." He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, then lowered his head for a moment. When he raised it again, his aura darkened still more, and soon he seemed to be veiled in shadow. His eyes, however, remained bright and shining.

"I compel you," he said in a booming voice, "to leave this world, and to remain banished until the rocks melt and the seas burn." Raising his sword, he made a downward stroke at the outstretched arm. The blade cut deeply into the leathery hide, and a moment later, greenish-blue blood spurted from the wound, evaporating into steam almost instantly. The creature screamed yet again, and retreated a foot or so back into the portal.

Will stepped forward, keeping pace with the entity. "Go," he growled. "Return to your accursed home." Snarling, it complied.

"I can’t believe that I’m seeing this," Bobby whispered. "That thing’s ten times his size. Why in God’s name is it retreating?"

"If I understood Will’s explanation correctly," Ororo replied, "he may very well be acting in a god’s name. From the way he was speaking, I think he may have taken in some lingering energies from the ritual, which would mean that he is acting as an avatar of some sort."

"Well, whatever he’s doing," Jean said, "it looks like it’s working." Indeed, the creature had nearly vanished back into the portal. Will lowered his sword, then used one of the belt loops of his jeans as an ersatz scabbard. Stretching his arms out in front of him, he started bringing his hands together again, causing the portal to close once more. Within a few seconds, the width of the spatial distortion had narrowed to about one meter.

"I’m almost done, Stephen," Will grunted. "Get ready to lower the barrier."

"All right. It’ll take about three minutes." 

Strange began the incantation which would close the circle, but his voice trailed off after a few moments. "Will, get back! It’s trying to…!"

He was interrupted by another blast of energy, which threw him back a meter or so and ruined his concentration. A heartbeat later, the clawed hand shot out of the portal and seized Will. Before anyone had time to finish a gasp, he was yanked into the gateway.

"Will!" Rogue said with a scream as she rushed forward. She was stopped by the barrier of the circle. "Stephen, go after him!"

Strange stood up, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, then floated over to the portal. He was driven back a moment later by a blaze of silver energy, which flew out of the distortion like fire from a flame thrower. Strange set up a second barrier around himself and huddled down.

Rogue and the others were temporarily blinded by the glare, but they quickly recovered as it diminished. Small remnants of energy continued to escape from the gateway as Strange stood up and straightened his coat. Slowly and cautiously, he walked towards the portal.

When he was just over a meter away from the threshold of the distortion, the energy started to flare up again. It ebbed and flowed for a few moments, and then brightened one last time as Will fell out, collapsing on the ground.

Will stood up, shaking off Strange’s attempts to assist. His clothes were ripped and torn, and were covered with greenish stains. He had several deep, jagged cuts on his face and chest, but his eyes were still glowing brilliantly. 

Dropping his sword, he brought his hands back together, quickly closing the doorway. He shouted one last thing just before it vanished completely:

"AND STAY OUT!"

There was nothing said for several seconds as Will stood alone, breathing heavily from the exertion of what had evidently been a difficult task. He slowly sat down on the ground, wincing slightly as he did so. "It’s safe now," he told Stephen. "You can drop the circle."

"You’re sure?"

Will nodded. "I guarantee you that it is not coming back."

Strange looked at Will closely for a few moments, then nodded. About four minutes later, the barrier around them had vanished.

Ororo led the others towards the two sorcerers. "Are you both all right?" she asked, stepping into the clearing.

"I could probably use some aspirin and a nap," Strange said, "but otherwise I’m fine."

"Just a few nicks and scratches for me," Will supplied. "I probably look worse than I feel." He took a deep breath, then paused. "Um…. I really hate having to ask this, but could you ladies be kind enough to move downwind?"

Ororo started to give an angry retort, but decided against it. "Why? Are you saying that there is something unpleasant about the way that we smell?"

"Quite the contrary…. you all smell really, really good, and right now there’s enough testosterone flowing through me to supply a few Olympic weightlifting teams."

"Ah."

"Ah."

"Why don’t we just keep our distance for the next few minutes?" Jean quickly suggested.

"That would be a very good idea," Will advised.

Jean, Ororo and Rogue walked over to the downwind edge of the circle. "That’s the first time I’ve been told that I smelled too good," Jean remarked in a low voice.

"I recall a remark that Logan made to you soon after we joined," Ororo reminded her.

Jean blushed. "I’d forgotten about that."

"What did he say?" Rogue asked.

"He said that he knew that I was attracted to him. When I told him that he was full of it, he let me know that his nose told him differently."

"That sounds like Logan," Rogue agreed. "What is it about that man?"

"I’ve always thought of it as animal attraction," Ororo confessed. "You find yourself intrigued by his primitive nature."

Bobby wandered over to them. "He says he should be okay in a minute. He’s thinking about teleporting us straight to Chicago."

"Is he all right?" Jean asked.

"I think he’s just tired. Hank took a quick look at him. He’s got some scratches and bruises, but nothing major. His voice is back to normal, too. He wants to go shopping for some new clothes, then have a good meal and get some sleep."

"Sounds good to me," Rogue said. "Especially the shopping part."

"He thought you’d look forward to that. Come on."

They walked over to Will, who was examining his torn clothes with distaste. "Remind me when we get back to Salem Center to start using that body armored fabric in my uniform."

"I’ll put it on my ‘to do’ list," Henry said. "Ready to go?"

He nodded. "Let’s head back to the van. I’ll need to look at a map of Chicago. I’ll try to place us in the parking garage of the Drake Hotel."

"Won’t we need a parking receipt?" Bobby asked.

"I can conjure one up if we have to," Strange supplied.

"We’ll be a day early," Rogue pointed out.

"Remember how I got our rooms at the Shelbourne Hotel in Dublin?"

"Financial intimidation?"

"It’s always brought me results."

A few minutes later, they were back in the van. "Just drive us through slowly, Stephen," Will requested after opening up a Door large enough for the van to pass through.

"Okay." Strange started the engine, activating the tape player.

"-Mama mia let me go/Beelzebub has a devil put aside for meee…."
 
 

Continued in Chapter Forty

Author’s Notes: The reference to the Gaiman-Pratchett Law is a reference to the novel Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman (of Sandman fame) and Terry Pratchett (of Discworld fame). They theorize that any cassette tape left in a car stereo long enough will eventually turn into a Best of Queen album.

The votes on the actor to play Will Riley are in. So far, the contenders include Patrick Muldoon, Val Kilmer, and Paul Newman. The responses, I have to admit, were a lot different than what I had in mind. I had envisioned a young Max Von Sydow (think of his portrayal of Harry Haller in Steppenwolf), or a younger Rutger Hauer (his role in the HBO movie Bone Daddy was my inspiration, although I think he’d probably be better as Magneto). Donald Sutherland was also considered (his role as the good-hearted assassin in HBO’s Hollow Point left me gasping from the laughter). My personal favorite to play Will, however, is Donald’s son, Kiefer Sutherland. His portrayal of the nefarious Doctor Schrieber in Dark City would, in my opinion, translate as an excellent portrayal of Will Riley. All we would have to do is grey his hair and stick some contacts in his eyes.

As a personal aside to Alec Wire, I agree. Will’s glasses are wire-rim.