Disclaimer: All characters in this story are in some way or another the property of Marvel. I am not using them to make me a profit nor am I using them to destroy Marvel's empire. :-) Therefore, you should not make a profit off them either and you should not take credit for the story nor should you change anything sneakily without crediting me - i.e. Make Remy, Joseph and Joseph, Remy. Archive freely and distribute at will. (Poor will, what has he done to deserve it!) However, feel free to e-mail me with comments\criticisms\campaign contributions at [email protected]. Flames however will crush my `sensitive' psyche, so if you want to be in line for a lot of psychiatrist's bills, flame me. :-) With no further ado, RogueStar presents . . . . (always wanted to say that!)

Pour mon amie, Annie, qui me montre que je peux etre sexiste quelque-fois. Sabrina te
remercie pour sa nouvelle role dans le roman!
(To my friend, Annie, for showing me that even I can be sexist at times! Sabrina thanks you for her new role in the story!)

~~~

The Well of Souls. Many things to many people. To some, it was the place where they came to remember the dead. To others, the place where they came to die. And to others, still, it was the place where they came to resurrect . . . .
"Are you sure that this is the place?"
"Oui. De place where life an' death cross over. De gateway to de Netherworld. Dis be de place."
"How do we enter?" Ororo looked dubiously at the stone structure that marked the entrance to the temple.
"T'rough de door." Belladonna answered facetiously.
"Well and good - if there were a door."
"Dere always be a door." She raised a single, golden eyebrow, "Don' know how ya got as far as ya did wit' your limited perception."
"My skills are element-based - not necromancy."
The other woman laughed at the insult, "Vrai, cherie. Ya never could stand death. Never could see it as nat'ral."
[True, dear]

"We do not have time to waste talking about my shortcomings. Open the door."
Belladonna sighed and shrugged, stepping to the seemingly impenetrable wall and placing a hand on its cold surface.
"Open sesame."
The wall dissolved before the sorceress' eyes, revealing a tall, carved door. A door set with garnets and trimmed with bronze.
"Open sesame?" Ororo repeated incredulously.
"De one t'ing ya school-trained wizards never seemed t'get is dat words
ain't important. Dey simply serve as a channel f'r ya powers. A means of concentratin' dem on a single source."
Belladonna explained, "It not be de words dat matter but de feelin' behind dem dat counts. Could say rhubarb f'r all it mattered."
"Rhubarb?"
"Ya get de point?"
"Yes, I do." She said, "After you . . . ."
"Ya don' trust me - how flatterin'." Belladonna moved slowly forward, hips swaying as she did so, the scent of roses accompanying her. Ororo followed cautiously behind, not trusting the witch.
"Is the door locked?" The sorceress asked.
"Oui, in de sense dat we can't get in. Non, in de sense dat we can unlock it."
"How?"
"Mon dieu. Next ya be tellin' me I have t' flatten de grass f'r ya before ya walk on it." Belle groaned, "It be a magic door so we use magic."
"An incantation?"
"Non, dis not be so easy as sayin' a few pretty words an' *bang* de door opens." The witch replied, "Dere be one word - one right word dat will open it. If we get it wrong, we're dead."
"Any way to determine this word?"
"A riddle."
"A riddle?"
"Can't have a magic door wit'out one." Belladonna shrugged, "Once was a travellin' wizard used t'specialise in dem. Riddlin' Rosenberg or somet'ing similar. Was all de vogue t'have a magic, riddle door. Impress ya friends. Fry ya enemies an' in-laws."
"Very well, but how does that knowledge help us?"
"Most of de people weren't exactly genii. De riddles had t'be simple. Hope he ain't made an exception here."
"Let us see." Ororo stepped forward to a bronze plaque, "What is it that pulls a man in many directions all at once but which at the same time also holds a man together?"
"Harder dan his usual ones. Guess he must have made an exception f'r de Well of Souls."
"Souls." Ororo repeated, "As in the essence of a living being? That which feels and desires?"
"Oui." Belladonna said impatiently, "Why does dat matter right now?"
"What is the one thing which pulls you apart? That makes you do something of which your conscience and intellect does not approve?"
"A desire . . . ." She gasped, "Ya soul . . . ."
"And yet without your soul, you are empty, hollow."
"So it also holds ya together."
"The answer is a soul."
"Do you want t'say it?" Belladonna asked, "Do ya believe dat it's right?"
"Yes. I do."
"Den say it. But if it ain't right, den ya be flash-fried in a matter of seconds."
"I place enough faith in my own judgement and decisions to take that chance." She stood closer to the door, "How do I tell the door the answer?"
"Ya see de two large garnets set far apart and trimmed with bronze?"
"Yes."
"Place ya hands on dem."
Ororo did so, feeling the thrill of power that went up and down her spine.
"Now?"
"Now clear ya mind of all t'oughts and t'ink of de answer."
Ororo closed her eyes, attempting to calm the maelstrom of unspoken thoughts and words inside of herself. The garnets glowed, red, orange, gold, white. Belladonna stood back, hiding her face with her hands. A sound like the rumbling of thunder, a crack
and a flash.
"Ororo?" She whispered, fearing the worst.
The door stood open, like a flower that had unfurled. Beautiful with bronze and garnets.
"Looks like I guessed accurately." Ororo smiled, "Follow me."
Inside the temple was dark. Musty. Cold. The scent of incense clotted the atmosphere, hung heavy on the air, barely concealing the sweet stench of death.
Ororo made a small ball of lightning between her fingers, lighting up the room with a brilliant white glow, revealing bleached bones lacy with spiderwebs. The floor
had been tiled at one time, but was overgrown with moss. Only a single shape remained
visible, an eye staring blankly into the vaulted ceiling, hopelessly.
"I don' like it here." Belladonna muttered.
"I thought it would have suited you." Ororo sniped, "Being the creature of the night that you are."
"Hmmp. Dere should be an entance here . . . ." The witch knelt, brushing away the accumulated layers of dust that coated everything.
"I should ask how you know this place so well, but I fear the answer."
"Ha!" Her laughter echoed hollowly, "Been here before. Came here when I died."
"What?"
"De Lord of de Underworld, Blackheart, took pity on me. Said dat if he let me go, I must fetch him more souls. One f'r every day dat I'm free."
"Which is why . . . ."
"I lure men into my trap, den strip dem of deir essence. Guess I'm an assassin of souls in a way."
She pulled up an iron ring, "Voila."
[There!]
Ororo looked down into a pit. An abyss of stars and space that stretched to infinity.
"How do we descend?"
"We jump."
"Jump?"
"Oui. Ya t'ink dat Blackheart would go t'all de trouble of installin' steps so dat de souls can walk down inta damnation easily? `Sides which souls can float - we can't."
"Or maybe we can." Ororo said slowly, "If I can manipulate the wind currents in the room, I can levitate myself above the ground."
"Ain't dat nice f'r ya. What about me?"
"I can lift you as well, I think."
"Ya t'ink?"
"You have to trust me. It is the only way."
"D'accord . . . mais . . . ."
[Okay . . . but . . . .]
Wind. Soft and gentle swirled around Ororo's skirts, making them fly out like streamers at a fair. She felt herself lift off the ground and hover a few inches in the air.
"An' me?"
Beads of sweat stood out on Ororo's forehead, Belladonna lifted into the air and then fell
unceremoniously back to earth with a thud.
"I am sorry . . . you are too heavy."
The witch muttered a foul, swearword under her breath then grinned disengagingly as she realised something.
"Looks like I will have t'stay here after all."
"Maybe." Ororo looked worried, "But I do not wish to travel into parts unknown without a
guide."
"Ain't got no choice, cherie." She smiled. "I be too heavy."
"Earlier on, you changed yourself into Remy's fiancee. Cannot you not do that again?"
"Quoi? I doubt dat she would be lighter dan I am - looks a little solid around de hips, if ya know what I mean."
[What?]
Ororo sighed, "Not into her, but into something else. Something lighter."
"Sorry, Bright one. I c'n only change into somet'ing animate."
"A bird then? A mouse?"
"Non. Won't work. De t'ing is it also has t'be somet'ing de other person cares about."
A grimace passed across the sorceress' face, then cleared as something dawned upon her.
"Jubilation."
"What?"
"I have an apprentice by the name of Jubilation Lee for whom I care deeply. She is a child and will no doubt be lighter than you."
"Bien." The witch's forehead furrowed in concentration. The air shimmered around her
momentarily and, in her place, stood a child who was the exact duplicate of Jubilation.
"Excellent."
Ororo motioned with her arms and the child began to rise slowly upwards until she stood seemingly on nothing.
"Let us go."
The sorceress moved herself and Belladonna over the abyss and then began to lower them gently.
"Bonne chance."
[Good luck..]
"Let us pray we do not need it."
The transition to the netherworld was as sudden as it was startling.
Voice murmured, wailed, in an unholy choir. Hands reached out, clawing at their skirts and at their skin, pulling their hair. Spirits whirled around them, cold as they touched and moved through them.
"I do not like this place."
"No mortal does."
His voice was as arrogant as it was icy, speaking of the promise of eternal darkness. Of
being overwhelmed by shadows.
"So, Belladonna, you have returned."
"Oui, Blackheart."
"I never thought you would - I am most pleased with the most recent soul you sent me. It has, and you will excuse the pun, spirit. A fire which I cannot quench."
"We have come to reclaim him. It is not his time." Ororo said.
"So many mortals say that and none of them escape."
"Belladonna sent him to you under false pretenses. His sacrifice, such as it was, was noble. He does not belong here with the corrupt and weak."
"You have the audacity to enter my realm and challenge my power?" His face was amused.
"Indeed. All mankind has the *right* to challenge death."
"By which right?"
"By the prophecy spoken so many years ago."
"You would invoke the sacred challenge of Scherezade?"
"Yes."
"Very well. You realise that it is my perogative to test you as I will."
"Yes."
Blackheart gestured to an attendant demon, "Bring the spirit in question here."
The demon vanished and reappeared, a flame by its side. The flame flickered almost as if questioning Blackheart.
"These people have come to free you. To save your soul."
The flame bowed slightly in understanding.
"Yet it is not them I must test, but you."
"That is unfair."
"No. We will see if he is as noble as you claim."
Blackheart closed his eyes, a look of intense concentration on his face.
"He is a thief and a highwayman. One who robs the rich."
"Yet he gives the money to those from whom it has been originally stolen. The peasants who pay exorbitant taxes to feudal lords."
"You are . . . correct. That is noble." He sounded disgusted, "But let us see if the deeds of his heart are as noble as those of his body."
"I believe you will find them so."
"He loves a woman. She is . . . beautiful . . . spirited . . . and she is to marry someone else. He is in love with an engaged woman?! Is that noble?"
"Engaged against her will. Forced into a marriage with a cruel tyrant who oppresses her people. Who threatens to destroy her village if she does not become his wife."
"This also is true. He is on a quest to rescue her from this mage, Magnus."
"Indeed."
Blackheart opened his eyes once more and looking into them was like looking at two glowing embers.
"He does not belong here. He is neither corrupt or evil." he proclaimed, "Yet . . . I cannot free him without an exchange. Without someone else giving themselves up. It
is the law."
"Then take me." Ororo said, without hesitation.
"Non . . . prenez-moi." The witch added quietly.
[No . . . Take me.]
"Belladonna?"
"Let me do dis, Ororo. It be my fault he's here an' it be up t'me t'get him out of here."
"Very well."
A flicker. A smile. Flames shifting. Hands. Eyes. Voices. Blackness. Cold. Intense light as the sun poured in through the open door of the temple. The young man lifted his head from the stone floor where he was sprawled and looked at the sorceress.
"She did it, didn' she?"
"Yes. She did."
"I wonder why."
"In her own strange, twisted way, she loved you."
He sat in silence for a long while, not knowing what to say and not daring to say anything for fear that it would be wrong. Remy slowly stood, dusting his trousers off,
and walked out the door.
"We've wasted time here, chere. I don' know how much we have left."
"Then let us hope nothing more delays us."
"De horses?"
"I had to let them go. The next leg of our journey is more easily accomplished on foot than on horseback."
"Bien. Let's get goin'. . . . We still don' even know where t'find dis Horse o' Another Color or how long it will take us t'get it."
"No, but we shall. And then we will stop the wedding."
"If we ain't too late."
"Trust in Sabrina's love for you and know that she too is probably doing everything she can to stop the wedding as well."
"It ain't her love I'm worried about, it's de mage's power."
"Power is not everything."
"No, it isn't, chere, but it sure counts f'r a lot."
"As you said, let us get going. Worrying about the future can only serve to delay us."
"Mon dieu, Sabs, I hope you're alright." He muttered to himself as he followed her along the pathway that led into the forest.

~~~

"It's beautiful! Absolutely beautiful!"
Sabrina Parker smoothed the white dress over her hips, watching as the folds fell to the floor in waves. It was frothy with lace and ribbon - a dream to look at and an absolute nightmare to wear.
"This still feels so unreal." She said to the plump seamstress who was making last minute adjustments to her hem. "Like Ah'm floatin' on air an' am going ta come crashin' ta earth any second."
"You are so lucky. The envy of all the women in the village."
"Yeah. Ah guess Ah am."
"Are you happy, child?"
"Yeah." She smiled, "Ah think Ah'm fallin' foh th' Mage."
"Who wouldn't? All that power, wealth . . . and he's handsome" She shivered with delight.
"You are so lucky."
"If'n you're quite finished, Ah'm going ta show mah daddy."
She walked, sedately, out of the seamstress's sight, leaving her to pick up the pearls and murmur to herself for a millionth time, how terribly lucky Sabrina was. Sabrina, herself, did not feel quite so blessed.
"Made me sick havin' ta pretend ta be so happy. As if Ah'd really evah want ta marry Magnus. As if Ah'd even think about it if'n he wasn't threatenin' ta destroy our village."
She kicked a small pebble and it skipped across the path and into the bush.
"Well, Ah ain't gonna sit around like some damsel in distress an' wait foh Remy ta save me. Ah'm gonna find a way ta kill that pig - no matter what."
"Miss?" A girl's voice asked from the bushes, "Miss? Can you help me?"
"Depends. What do y'all want?"
"Have you seen a woman with white hair come by here, accompanied by a man with really weird eyes?"
"No, Ah'm sorry. Ah haven't."
The young girl plopped onto the floor with a sigh, "I've searched for them everywhere and I just can't find them."
"Why are you lookin' foh them?"
"I'm the woman's apprentice and I think she needs me. She's gone on some kind of crazy quest with this man to stop his fianc,e from marrying this evil mage." She
explained.
"Hmmp. Poor fianc,e."
"Yes. Tell me about it." The girl's voice dropped into familiarity, "They're looking for something that doesn't even exist. The Horse of Another Color or something similar."
She cocked her head in curiosity, "Why are you wearing a wedding dress?"
"Because Ah have ta marry this evil mage unless mah fianc, finds the Horse of Another Color."
"You're *her*?"
"Th' name's Sabrina Parker."
"I'm Jubilation Lee. Where were you going?"
"Ta see mah grandmomma - Destiny - in order ta ask her if'n she knows any way that
Magnus might be killed."
"Can I come with?"
"Sure, kid. Be company."
"Um . . . a word of friendly advice? Lose the wedding dress!"
"No time." Sabrina said, "If'n Ah go back to th' village, Ah'll never get out again."
She bent over her skirt and proceeded to tear the frothy lace and ribbons off the dress, leaving something that was plain, white and very ordinary. With a strip of ribbon, she proceeded to take her hair back into a braid.
"Is that better?"
"Much." Jubilation nodded her head, "How far is it to Destiny's house?"
"`Bout a league - we can be there by nightfall if'n we start now."
"I could use magic to get us there?" She suggested.
"Let's walk. Ah need th' exercise cooped up in the village as Ah was."
"Sure." Jubilation sighed and ran after Sabrina.

~~~

To be continued . . . .

Okay. I think this is a good time for a quick recap of characters, plot etc . . . .

There is a small village which is under the auspices of a mage, Magnus, who demands gifts in return for his protection. One year, he demands a slightly different gift - that of the hand in marriage of Sabrina Parker who happens to already be engaged to Remy leBeau. The mage says that he will only break the engagement with Sabrina if he gets the Horse of Another Color (A supposedly mythical artifact or creature). Remy, being the noble highwayman that he is, sets off on a quest for this Horse and seeks the help of Ororo Munroe, a sorceress. Ororo has an apprentice, Jubilation Lee, who is very impetuous and head-strong. Ororo consults her scrying bowl and sees the image of Phoenix, Goddess of Fire, in the water and she and Remy set off to find Phoenix as they believe she can help them. Unfortunately, on the way, they run into Belladonna, the poetic belle dame sans merci, who traps them and attempts to seduce Remy. It backfires on her when Ororo summons the legions of the dead which Belladonna has killed, but Remy unwittingly sacrifices himself so that Belladonna can live. The two women then go to the Well of Souls and Remy's life is saved by Belladonna's death. Jubilation, in the meantime, is sick and tired of staying home while Ororo has all the adventures and sets out to find her mistress. She encounters Sabrina who is on her way to see Destiny in order to find out how she might kill Magnus . . . . More next time.

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