Fic: Inseparable (2/6)
Dec. 22nd, 2007 04:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bagheera_sanToday was a rather magical winter day. I've never seen anything like it, everything is covered in frost, not snow, but thick white frost, every leaf and branch, even the fields and the streets. It's so cold that the air itself looks almost frozen white, and as soon as the fog lifted, the sky was incredibly blue and the sun shone all day. It was the kind of beauty that makes life worth living for, that makes you think "Earth really is the most amazing place."
Title: Inseparable (2/6)
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Clex. Mentions of past Clana and Lexana.
Genre: Action-adventure futurefic with a helping of crack & romance - the usual.
Length: 43845 words
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
plnunn's Doujinshi Challenge. Cover #6 . Many thanks to my beta danceswithgary, who found the time for this even in this busy time of year :)
Summary: Powerless, handcuffed to his evil nemesis and running for his life from mutant Antarctic Indians - worse things have happened to Clark Kent. Maybe. Part One
Two
Someone was singing. That was Clark's first clear impression as he fought back to consciousness: a deep, throaty voice singing without words or melody, primal and strange. Orange flames flickered blurrily in front of his eyes, and his entire body felt heavy as rocks. He was being dragged, almost carried, by strong hands on his arms and shoulders.
A commanding voice rang through Clark's stupor, as if coming from behind a wall of water. "What is this?"
As someone answered in a language that wasn't English, but still vaguely familiar, a number of very bad things became clear to Clark's still foggy mind all at once:
One - He had been stabbed with kryptonite and then obviously kidnapped by crazed Antarctic pseudo-Indians.
Two - While he was no longer impaled by meteor rocks, he wore heavy manacles around both wrists, which had much the same weakening effect, and using his powers was out of the question. He could barely walk or hold his swaying head upright.
Three - He didn't understand a word of what was being said or sung.
Four - He did recognize that single male voice which had spoken before, and was now speaking again. And that was definitely not a good thing.
"He isn't your Pahana Naman," Lex Luthor said, sounding increasingly irritated, "didn't you tell me yourself that Naman was Superman? This man obviously isn't him!"
If Clark had listened to Chloe when she had suggested creating a databank of all his enemies, ranking them by threat level, he wouldn't have known where to put Lex. On a scale of evilness from one to Zod, Lex probably ranked only slightly above the average meteor mutant. His danger level was nothing compared to Brainiac, but he was still a lot more dangerous than, say, Lionel, because Lionel was trying to make good with Clark's mom. On a scale of heartbreak, Lex ranked below Lana: while Clark felt responsible for both of their evil actions, Lana habitually told him that she did it all for and because of him; Lex would never have ceded one bit of responsibility to Superman.
But when it came to frequency of evil deeds, Lex was on the top of the list, unchallenged. Sometimes Clark thought Lex was more devoted to creating sinister schemes than the average Girl Scout was to selling cookies.
Clark groaned and tried to raise his face to get a glimpse of the man who – of course – was at the center of this Antarctic villainy.
More torches flickered in front of Clark, illuminating walls covered in grisly stone carvings: man-eating monsters and many-toothed serpents rising up to the dark ceiling like a forest from a primeval nightmare. Strange figures lined the wall, men and women clad in colorful robes and frightening masks, some of them oddly disfigured, stooped and furry and scaly, more animal than human, others impossibly beautiful: monsters and angels. Finally, his eyes fell on the throne, located at the end of the room where Lex resided. Two large, stern-faced Lemurians, a man and a woman, stood guard by Lex's side, both bearing the golden spear weapons.
Lex should have looked ridiculous in his woven ceremonial robe and dangling golden jewelry, like an escapee from a world music convention, but Lex wore the garments with singular dignity and the torch light lent his pale skin a matching golden tint.
"This is –" Lex began, and then he noticed that Clark had raised his head. He fell silent abruptly, instantly recognizing the reporter, if not the alien superhero. Oh, this was bad. Lex had given Superman one or two very confused looks in the first few months, but since then he'd never shown any sign of recognition or suspicion when it came to Clark and his alter ego. Clark would have to be very careful now.
"Lord Segeth," a man explained by Clark's side, one of those who had dragged him here, his English accented, but correct. "The sunstones have identified him." The Lemurian held up a dangling piece of kryptonite on a string. It glowed menacingly when it came close to Clark. "This is Naman."
Clark was pushed down to his knees, and he went without a fight, too confused and sick to put up any resistance. Naman? What the hell was going on? Had Lex used the old Kawatche legends to impress the Lemurians?
Lex's expression remained blank and frozen for a moment, and then he moved a tiny bit forward, his eyes roving up and down Clark's torso. Suddenly he rose from the throne, smooth and dangerous, and crossed the distance between them with brisk steps.
"Lex," Clark croaked. Lex wasn't a good guy, but he usually helped when Clark asked for it. It was an old habit, and besides, Lex loved showing off his power far too much to deny Clark favours when he asked for them.
However, Lex didn't seem to hear him now. He grabbed Clark's hair in one hand, pulled his head up and seized Clark's shirt with the other hand to tear it open. All his movements were sharp, clipped with the economy of anger. Buttons popped, threads screeched, and then it was done. The shirt hung open, exposing a bright, primary-colored fact : the crest of the House of El.
Clark swallowed. He glanced up through the cracked glasses that sat askew on his nose, searching Lex's eyes, but Lex was staring down blindly at the exposed costume. Bit by bit his face, which had gone as still as a jammed engine, unfroze, twisting into bitterness. Lex let go of him. He half-turned, almost dream-like, as if looking for something that wasn't there, and Clark sagged back into the grasp of his captors.
"Superman," Lex said, softly, yet quite clearly audible in the large room. "Superman!" He reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache, and suddenly laughed, his chuckle ringing hollow and cold in the cavernous room.
Clark struggled against his captors' hold and tried to regain his footing, but it was useless. The man, who had spoken to Lex in English, advanced a step, and Clark recognized Tepec, the Lemurian who had welcomed the envoys on the airfield. It seemed like another world away.
"What's going on here?" Clark demanded, but it was a disaster. With his disguise so torn, he couldn't decide whether to make his voice stern or confused, whether to play Superman or Clark Kent. The glasses still sat on his nose, lopsided and with one lens cracked. The glowing kryptonite rendered futile any attempt to invent some far-fetched explanation for how he'd ended up wearing Superman's suit. In addition, Lex had probably known all along anyway.
"Lex? What are you doing here?"
Lex gave him a contemptuous look, made all the more effective by his regal dress, and the fact that Clark was on his knees before him. "It seems our roles have been reversed, Clark. You're the devil in this place – and I am these people's messiah."
Clark twisted around, trying to catch his captors' attention, and at the same time gauge how many of them there were. Three stood closely around him: Tepec and two guards similar to those by Lex's side, armed with golden spears and keeping Clark subdued. The rest of the crowd kept a respectful distance from the throne. "This man is a fraud!" Clark called out. "Whatever he has told you, he's lying! He's using you for his own purposes!"
Lex turned around. His eyes glittered darkly as he stared down at Clark. No one else reacted to Clark's accusations. "Listen to you," Lex sneered, then raised his head to speak to the Lemurians. "He calls me a fraud, but what is he, then? The most powerful creature on Earth, hiding behind lies and a pitiful disguise! What kind of coward – "
He was interrupted by the voice of Dijan, the medicine woman with the kryptonite amulet who had stabbed him in the Lemurian village. "Silence," she called out rather imperiously. "Jaguar Mother is present. No one will speak, not even you, Segeth, until she has spoken."
Lex looked taken aback, then glared, but all eyes had turned towards the back of the room, where faint sunlight spilled in and a noisy procession, accompanied by drums and rattles and tambourines, made their way down a broad staircase.By Dijan's side walked a much older woman with skin that was spotted like a jaguar's fur, and whiskers growing out of her cheeks. The musicians and more festively clad people trailed behind them, but then they fanned out and stayed at the sides of the room, joining the already assembled crowd. Walking up to the throne, the two woman took their places, sitting with crossed legs on a lavish carpet: Dijan to the left and the jaguar woman to the right.
They began speaking in monotone voices, a kind of ritual dialogue, first one and then the other, their words and tone incomprehensible to Clark. All he knew was that it was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him and quite possibly the most dangerous – not even the Phantom Zone had been as alien. Panicked ideas chased each other in his head: of human sacrifice and gruesome rituals, badly play-acted nightmares from the History Channel. Lex was the only familiar thing in the entire room and he was unreadable. A thin frown line furrowed Lex's brow, his eyes dark and shining blankly with the reflected fire of the torches as he stared past Clark with a distracted expression.
The noise and heat and the harsh beat of his own heart made Clark's head thrum. The room spun and he felt faint, before his return to alertness when he heard the first familiar word in the Lemurians' dialogue: Rao, the name Kara sometimes called Krypton's sun. Another word fell into his consciousness: Naman, the name of the prophesied Kawatche hero that Clark had once believed might mean him. What the hell had Lex told them? Finally, Dijan invoked the name Segeth, and from the folds of her cloak she drew a dagger, the oval silver blade flashing with the fire's sheen.
Clark's eyes widened at the sight. It looked like one of the daggers the Fortress could create, the kind of dagger it had produced to kill Zod and Zor-El. The hilt wasn't a Fortress crystal, or if it was, it was hidden by an ornamental sheath made of wood or bone and intricately carved. Instead, it resembled the hilt of the Kawatche starblade that had been meant to identify Segeth.
Glancing at Lex, Clark found him staring at the dagger in equal surprise. Not good. Not at all good. If Lex was surprised, then the Lemurians had come up with this whole Naman and Segeth stuff independently. And those crystal daggers had only one purpose as far as Clark knew: killing people. Specifically: killing Kryptonians.
"The time has come," Tepec translated Dijan's final words. "Pahana Naman, the destroyer of the Fourth World, has come to us and broken our Pact of Silence with his people. Now, only Segeth, the champion of our people, can save us!"
Dijan nodded and then rose to her feet, presenting the dagger to Lex. It dawned on Clark that this was going to end very soon and very badly, especially when the Kryptonian symbols on the blade lit up brightly when Lex touched the hilt. A cry arose from the Lemurians, and all but those closest to the throne prostrated themselves on their knees, chanting loudly in approval.
Lex's eyes wandered from the dagger to Clark. "If Segeth slays Naman, our world will not end!" Dijan cried out over the din of the excited crowd, which took up the cry and repeated it again and again.
"I knew you were lying to me," Lex said softly, stepping closer. "All this time. Somehow I could never believe that you were dangerous, Clark. A fool, that's what I thought you were, an innocent sinner. Now, even the legends say that I'm destined to save the world – from you."
"Are you going to kill me for lying to you, Lex?"
Lex's eyes narrowed and he moved another step forward, seizing a fistful of Clark's hair and twisting his head back in one rough motion. "The legends also say that you've come to end the world, Clark, and I am the only one who can stop you. It's not personal, you see."
Using two fingers of the same hand that held the dagger, Lex removed Clark's glasses from his nose and, after a critical glance down at Clark's face, tucked them into the chest pocket of Clark's torn shirt, almost tenderly. The blade of the dagger glowed whenever it approached Clark's bare skin, chiming with a strange, magnetic resonance, and Clark felt its unearthly heat, yet he couldn't rid himself of his disbelief at Lex's actions.
Lex looked perfectly rational underneath his strange attire, so close to slitting Clark's throat, still studying him with a clear, attentive gaze, seeming utterly unburdened by any feeling of guilt, a true murderer. Clark felt something inside him break: that last vestige of trust and faith in a remnant of humanity in Lex, something he hadn't known he still harbored, was lost.
Clark struggled once more, knowing it was useless, but refusing to go down without a fight. He wasn't going to make it easy on Lex. "Saving the world was never anything but a convenient excuse for you –"
Lex's hand tightened viciously on his hair once again, making Clark gasp at the unfamiliar pain. His invulnerability seemed as gone as his powers. There was a dangerous flash in Lex's eyes now, the red reflection of flames, and the blade caressed Clark's cheek in a searing line of agony.
"You have no idea, Clark," Lex hissed, "what I've done to protect this world - or what I'm willing to do."
Dijan and the jaguar woman raised their voices in a single guttural cry. "The destined time has come to pass! Slay him!"
The drums reached a sudden, painful crescendo, a relentless beat that Clark felt in every fiber of his body, and then they fell silent. Harsh breathing was heard everywhere in the room. Sweaty, ecstatic faces stared breathlessly at Lex and the dagger, full of admiration and excitement.
Lex's eyes narrowed. He raised his chin, looking around, and then dropped the dagger with a clatter at Tepec's feet.
"I'm not going to kill this man."
He let go of Clark. A shocked, angry muttering rose all around them, and the crowd edged closer. Lex turned on his heel so that he stood with his back to Clark, facing the two priestesses.
"If you honor the legends, neither will you! You know that only Segeth may kill Naman! Your legends proclaim it so!" Lex told the assembled Lemurians. Clark stared up at Lex's back in uncomprehending surprise, but Lex never spared him a glance. His eyes were on the crowd with the practiced intensity of a man used to commanding others.
The old jaguar woman and Tepec were stunned, wordless at Lex's behavior, but Dijan moved in quickly and raised both hands. "Silence!" she shouted at the crowd, in English and in their own language. She spat an order at Lex. "You will fulfill your destiny. If not now, then you'll do it when your spirit has been cleansed and your journey has come to its natural conclusion. You will kill him!"
"I'm sorry," Lex said, unimpressed. "But I've always preferred to choose my own destiny."
"Spider Mother - ?" Tepec asked Dijan, confused. He was wringing his hands anxiously. "What shall we – "
"Take them to the pits," Dijan ordered, with a meaningful glance at Tepec. "Bind them to each other and leave them to their fate. They'll stay there until fasting clears their spirits, and then Segeth will kill the Pahana Naman."
Lex moved forward. "This was not part of our agreement," he objected angrily.
Spider Mother picked up the dagger. "If you wish to honor the agreement, Segeth, you still have the chance. You seemed eager enough to kill Superman when we first told you of our legends."
Lex glared at the dagger, then took a step back, his chin high and his eyes flashing. One guard menacingly stepped into his way and raised his golden spear weapon, a crackle of electricity coiling around the point.
Dijan pulled a third shackle, identical to the ones around Clark's wrists, from her belt. She stepped close to Lex, speaking so low that only those closest to them could hear, while the assembled Lemurians would not have been able to understand.
"When you're starving in the pits with the creature, Luthor, you'll change your mind about destiny. We'll give you the dagger," she informed Lex, obviously quite pleased with the development. "Kill him and the shackles will open, and you'll be free."
*
Lex was going to kill – well, he was going to kill someone. Dijan, the cunning witch, was on the top of the list. But Clark, if it was going to be him, Lex was going to kill when and where he decided to do it. Not when it suited some crazy mutant polar Indians and certainly not when he was being told to.
He hadn't exactly been overjoyed to learn that, according to Lemurian legends, he was destined to kill Superman. Lex had long ago learned that destiny had a habit of being a traitorous turncoat that bit him in the ass right when he expected it the least. However, the prophecy was deeply reminiscent of Kawatche lore, claiming that Superman was going to bring destruction and death, possibly for the entire human race. Someone was needed to defeat him and save the world, and truth to be told, Lex hadn't needed the spiritual pep-talk to tell him that this someone was he. After all, who else was going to stand up to Superman?
People weren't exactly lining up to kill him, and none of Superman's other enemies had Earth's welfare in mind – besides, few of them were even a fraction as competent as Lex. The only reason he hadn't fully defeated Superman yet was caution – caution and the alien's dumb luck.
Nevertheless, he had suspected from the start that it couldn't possibly go that smoothly. It was an unpleasant fact that whenever things looked as if they might succeed, someone had to throw a wrench into Lex's plans. And this someone, more often than not, was Clark Kent.
The idiot – Lex sent him a furious, sideways glance as they were ushered down the sloping hill from the pyramidal temple where the ritual sacrifice had almost taken place – had stumbled directly into the Lemurians' trap. It was typical for Superman, thoughtless and… but Superman was Clark. Lex wasn't used to thinking of Clark as stupid, or arrogant, or any of the usual insults his mind had always ready for Superman. Clark was hypocritical and self-righteous, and the biggest liar Lex had ever known, but at the same time, Lex was always keenly aware of all the positive qualities Clark possessed. He had spent long sleepless nights mapping out the times Clark had saved his life, his sanity, his soul. He listed the times that Clark's mystery had been the only thing to keep him going, the one constant direction on his madly spinning compass, and true north in the Bermuda Triangle of Lex's life.
Even more reason to hate him. Lex hated needing things. Dependency was the worst of all weaknesses.
But still, his hatred for Clark and his hatred for Superman were two entirely different things. Superman he wanted dead and gone, but Clark belonged in the same category as his father, as Lana: a passionate enmity until 'death do us part.'
That promise had suddenly become rather more literal than Lex had wanted. He could feel the weight of the dagger against his side, tucked into the ridiculous ceremonial robes, and the shackle around his wrist tugged sharply at him every time Clark stumbled, which he did annoyingly often. All he had to do was kill Clark, and he'd be free.
He had no desire to learn what exactly 'the pits' were, but the priestess had made it sound as if he and Clark were to be left without food or water until one of them went crazy and killed the other. Knowing how they both thought, Lex suspected that they'd both end up dead, far too proud to give in to such base impulses, but he wasn't going to test the theory.
They were walking on a grassy path barely wide enough to let a car through, with the whole congregation of Lemurian believers following them, the crowd a little more subdued than they had been in the temple. Dijan's suggestion to throw them in the pits had barely prevented a mass panic, but Lex couldn't help suspecting that she had planned it this way all along. They were all scared as hell of Naman, but the smart and powerful among them weren't thrilled about Segeth, either: they could obviously do without a foreign savior.
To their right, below the path, was the river, a fast moving, muddy torrent that he had seen on the way to the temple. Boats, most of them canoes carved from single trunks, were either tied to the lower branches of the trees overhanging the water or pulled up onto the steep shore. A strip of thick forest separated them from the river, the same subtropical rainforest that covered most of Lemuria. It would provide cover from the spears that were the Lemurians' preferred weapon. The dagger, Lex hoped, would be enough to sever the ropes that bound the boats.
He slanted a sideways glance at Clark, and found him irritatingly inattentive, gaping around with wide, confused eyes. Without those ridiculous glasses they were much clearer, but far from Superman's inhuman steely gaze. Lex almost wished he had Superman by his side, because Clark was being singularly useless when it came to planning an escape. When Lex tugged sharply at their cuffed hands, Clark stared at him with that same startled expression he had worn since Lex had refrained from slitting his throat: as if Lex was the alien in the equation, and entirely incomprehensible to boot.
He flailed when Lex abruptly stopped and jerked Clark out of the way in order to throw a punch at the closest guard, who went out cold, perhaps even dead. Lex had hit his nose at a dangerous angle and with all the force of his rising rage. The Lemurians, quite unused to violence in their tiny and peaceful society, immediately fell into chaos, shouting in confusion and bumping into each other in their hasty attempts to subdue him. Tepec and the other guard moved forward and, hindered by Clark's useless weight, Lex managed only an ineffectual punch into the guard's unprotected gut, knocking him back into Tepec.
"Run!" Lex snarled at Clark, and dragged him along into the forest, out of the range of the spears.
They made good headway for a minute, Clark too stunned to object or fight their flight, but then he stopped dead, nearly sending Lex sprawling, and gasped, "Lex, where – "
Lex didn't let him finish, grabbing him by the shoulders instead and pushing him back against a huge, red-barked tree, relishing the fact that for once they were almost equal in strength. It was obvious that something the Lemurians had done to Clark was sapping his powers. Up close, their noses nearly touching and the slick fabric of the alien suit covering Clark's chest taut beneath his fingers, Lex hissed, "Do as I say and run! And shut the hell up!" before pushing Clark along again, heading for the river. The muddy yellow water was glittering between the undergrowth, but their pursuers were getting closer as well, hot on their heels, their shouts and the sounds of breaking branches much louder than the rushing sound of the water.
As soon as they found a boat, Lex whisked out the dagger, which caused Clark to flinch away from him in fright. Ignoring him, Lex gritted his teeth and started slashing at the hemp rope, which was thankfully thin. The dagger, he thought, burned instead of cutting, but it did its work well enough. With a final sharp tug at the rope, it came apart. Clark had finally caught on and splashed into the water, even before Lex did, rocking the boat with his heavier weight as he jumped into it. Lex followed, pushing them off the shore as far as he could before the link between their cuffs forced him to either jump in the small boat or be dragged along behind it.
Clark stared over his shoulder at the tree line until Lex pressed a narrow paddle into his free hand, and then they were both thrashing away at the water with more desperation than expertise, even as the first Lemurians splashed into the water, shouting and brandishing their spears. One, a short ordinary wooden thing, was thrown after them and just barely missed, but then Lex saw Dijan raise her hand and shout. The Lemurians stopped their pursuit, falling back quickly as the fast current pulled the small boat along. Paddling was awkward, since the boat was too narrow for them to sit next to each other, so instead, they had to sit with their cuffed hand awkwardly wedged in between Clark's back and Lex's chest and each use their paddles with one hand. Nevertheless, their speed increased steadily, until paddling became almost useless. Soon the cover of fog would hide them entirely.
"We made it," Clark said breathlessly, glancing back over his shoulder. Shouting over the rushing noise of the water he added, "They've given up."
Whatever spiteful answer Lex might have given died in his throat. His face was already wet from the steam that made it impossible to see farther than Clark's dark head, and the noise had risen from loud rushing to a deafening thunder. Suddenly, their boat dropped away from beneath them, and Clark screamed like a man who had never in his life laughed in gravity's face.
Title: Inseparable (2/6)
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Clex. Mentions of past Clana and Lexana.
Genre: Action-adventure futurefic with a helping of crack & romance - the usual.
Length: 43845 words
Notes: Written for
plnunn's Doujinshi Challenge. Cover #6 . Many thanks to my beta danceswithgary, who found the time for this even in this busy time of year :)Summary: Powerless, handcuffed to his evil nemesis and running for his life from mutant Antarctic Indians - worse things have happened to Clark Kent. Maybe. Part One
Two
Someone was singing. That was Clark's first clear impression as he fought back to consciousness: a deep, throaty voice singing without words or melody, primal and strange. Orange flames flickered blurrily in front of his eyes, and his entire body felt heavy as rocks. He was being dragged, almost carried, by strong hands on his arms and shoulders.
A commanding voice rang through Clark's stupor, as if coming from behind a wall of water. "What is this?"
As someone answered in a language that wasn't English, but still vaguely familiar, a number of very bad things became clear to Clark's still foggy mind all at once:
One - He had been stabbed with kryptonite and then obviously kidnapped by crazed Antarctic pseudo-Indians.
Two - While he was no longer impaled by meteor rocks, he wore heavy manacles around both wrists, which had much the same weakening effect, and using his powers was out of the question. He could barely walk or hold his swaying head upright.
Three - He didn't understand a word of what was being said or sung.
Four - He did recognize that single male voice which had spoken before, and was now speaking again. And that was definitely not a good thing.
"He isn't your Pahana Naman," Lex Luthor said, sounding increasingly irritated, "didn't you tell me yourself that Naman was Superman? This man obviously isn't him!"
If Clark had listened to Chloe when she had suggested creating a databank of all his enemies, ranking them by threat level, he wouldn't have known where to put Lex. On a scale of evilness from one to Zod, Lex probably ranked only slightly above the average meteor mutant. His danger level was nothing compared to Brainiac, but he was still a lot more dangerous than, say, Lionel, because Lionel was trying to make good with Clark's mom. On a scale of heartbreak, Lex ranked below Lana: while Clark felt responsible for both of their evil actions, Lana habitually told him that she did it all for and because of him; Lex would never have ceded one bit of responsibility to Superman.
But when it came to frequency of evil deeds, Lex was on the top of the list, unchallenged. Sometimes Clark thought Lex was more devoted to creating sinister schemes than the average Girl Scout was to selling cookies.
Clark groaned and tried to raise his face to get a glimpse of the man who – of course – was at the center of this Antarctic villainy.
More torches flickered in front of Clark, illuminating walls covered in grisly stone carvings: man-eating monsters and many-toothed serpents rising up to the dark ceiling like a forest from a primeval nightmare. Strange figures lined the wall, men and women clad in colorful robes and frightening masks, some of them oddly disfigured, stooped and furry and scaly, more animal than human, others impossibly beautiful: monsters and angels. Finally, his eyes fell on the throne, located at the end of the room where Lex resided. Two large, stern-faced Lemurians, a man and a woman, stood guard by Lex's side, both bearing the golden spear weapons.
Lex should have looked ridiculous in his woven ceremonial robe and dangling golden jewelry, like an escapee from a world music convention, but Lex wore the garments with singular dignity and the torch light lent his pale skin a matching golden tint.
"This is –" Lex began, and then he noticed that Clark had raised his head. He fell silent abruptly, instantly recognizing the reporter, if not the alien superhero. Oh, this was bad. Lex had given Superman one or two very confused looks in the first few months, but since then he'd never shown any sign of recognition or suspicion when it came to Clark and his alter ego. Clark would have to be very careful now.
"Lord Segeth," a man explained by Clark's side, one of those who had dragged him here, his English accented, but correct. "The sunstones have identified him." The Lemurian held up a dangling piece of kryptonite on a string. It glowed menacingly when it came close to Clark. "This is Naman."
Clark was pushed down to his knees, and he went without a fight, too confused and sick to put up any resistance. Naman? What the hell was going on? Had Lex used the old Kawatche legends to impress the Lemurians?
Lex's expression remained blank and frozen for a moment, and then he moved a tiny bit forward, his eyes roving up and down Clark's torso. Suddenly he rose from the throne, smooth and dangerous, and crossed the distance between them with brisk steps.
"Lex," Clark croaked. Lex wasn't a good guy, but he usually helped when Clark asked for it. It was an old habit, and besides, Lex loved showing off his power far too much to deny Clark favours when he asked for them.
However, Lex didn't seem to hear him now. He grabbed Clark's hair in one hand, pulled his head up and seized Clark's shirt with the other hand to tear it open. All his movements were sharp, clipped with the economy of anger. Buttons popped, threads screeched, and then it was done. The shirt hung open, exposing a bright, primary-colored fact : the crest of the House of El.
Clark swallowed. He glanced up through the cracked glasses that sat askew on his nose, searching Lex's eyes, but Lex was staring down blindly at the exposed costume. Bit by bit his face, which had gone as still as a jammed engine, unfroze, twisting into bitterness. Lex let go of him. He half-turned, almost dream-like, as if looking for something that wasn't there, and Clark sagged back into the grasp of his captors.
"Superman," Lex said, softly, yet quite clearly audible in the large room. "Superman!" He reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache, and suddenly laughed, his chuckle ringing hollow and cold in the cavernous room.
Clark struggled against his captors' hold and tried to regain his footing, but it was useless. The man, who had spoken to Lex in English, advanced a step, and Clark recognized Tepec, the Lemurian who had welcomed the envoys on the airfield. It seemed like another world away.
"What's going on here?" Clark demanded, but it was a disaster. With his disguise so torn, he couldn't decide whether to make his voice stern or confused, whether to play Superman or Clark Kent. The glasses still sat on his nose, lopsided and with one lens cracked. The glowing kryptonite rendered futile any attempt to invent some far-fetched explanation for how he'd ended up wearing Superman's suit. In addition, Lex had probably known all along anyway.
"Lex? What are you doing here?"
Lex gave him a contemptuous look, made all the more effective by his regal dress, and the fact that Clark was on his knees before him. "It seems our roles have been reversed, Clark. You're the devil in this place – and I am these people's messiah."
Clark twisted around, trying to catch his captors' attention, and at the same time gauge how many of them there were. Three stood closely around him: Tepec and two guards similar to those by Lex's side, armed with golden spears and keeping Clark subdued. The rest of the crowd kept a respectful distance from the throne. "This man is a fraud!" Clark called out. "Whatever he has told you, he's lying! He's using you for his own purposes!"
Lex turned around. His eyes glittered darkly as he stared down at Clark. No one else reacted to Clark's accusations. "Listen to you," Lex sneered, then raised his head to speak to the Lemurians. "He calls me a fraud, but what is he, then? The most powerful creature on Earth, hiding behind lies and a pitiful disguise! What kind of coward – "
He was interrupted by the voice of Dijan, the medicine woman with the kryptonite amulet who had stabbed him in the Lemurian village. "Silence," she called out rather imperiously. "Jaguar Mother is present. No one will speak, not even you, Segeth, until she has spoken."
Lex looked taken aback, then glared, but all eyes had turned towards the back of the room, where faint sunlight spilled in and a noisy procession, accompanied by drums and rattles and tambourines, made their way down a broad staircase.By Dijan's side walked a much older woman with skin that was spotted like a jaguar's fur, and whiskers growing out of her cheeks. The musicians and more festively clad people trailed behind them, but then they fanned out and stayed at the sides of the room, joining the already assembled crowd. Walking up to the throne, the two woman took their places, sitting with crossed legs on a lavish carpet: Dijan to the left and the jaguar woman to the right.
They began speaking in monotone voices, a kind of ritual dialogue, first one and then the other, their words and tone incomprehensible to Clark. All he knew was that it was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him and quite possibly the most dangerous – not even the Phantom Zone had been as alien. Panicked ideas chased each other in his head: of human sacrifice and gruesome rituals, badly play-acted nightmares from the History Channel. Lex was the only familiar thing in the entire room and he was unreadable. A thin frown line furrowed Lex's brow, his eyes dark and shining blankly with the reflected fire of the torches as he stared past Clark with a distracted expression.
The noise and heat and the harsh beat of his own heart made Clark's head thrum. The room spun and he felt faint, before his return to alertness when he heard the first familiar word in the Lemurians' dialogue: Rao, the name Kara sometimes called Krypton's sun. Another word fell into his consciousness: Naman, the name of the prophesied Kawatche hero that Clark had once believed might mean him. What the hell had Lex told them? Finally, Dijan invoked the name Segeth, and from the folds of her cloak she drew a dagger, the oval silver blade flashing with the fire's sheen.
Clark's eyes widened at the sight. It looked like one of the daggers the Fortress could create, the kind of dagger it had produced to kill Zod and Zor-El. The hilt wasn't a Fortress crystal, or if it was, it was hidden by an ornamental sheath made of wood or bone and intricately carved. Instead, it resembled the hilt of the Kawatche starblade that had been meant to identify Segeth.
Glancing at Lex, Clark found him staring at the dagger in equal surprise. Not good. Not at all good. If Lex was surprised, then the Lemurians had come up with this whole Naman and Segeth stuff independently. And those crystal daggers had only one purpose as far as Clark knew: killing people. Specifically: killing Kryptonians.
"The time has come," Tepec translated Dijan's final words. "Pahana Naman, the destroyer of the Fourth World, has come to us and broken our Pact of Silence with his people. Now, only Segeth, the champion of our people, can save us!"
Dijan nodded and then rose to her feet, presenting the dagger to Lex. It dawned on Clark that this was going to end very soon and very badly, especially when the Kryptonian symbols on the blade lit up brightly when Lex touched the hilt. A cry arose from the Lemurians, and all but those closest to the throne prostrated themselves on their knees, chanting loudly in approval.
Lex's eyes wandered from the dagger to Clark. "If Segeth slays Naman, our world will not end!" Dijan cried out over the din of the excited crowd, which took up the cry and repeated it again and again.
"I knew you were lying to me," Lex said softly, stepping closer. "All this time. Somehow I could never believe that you were dangerous, Clark. A fool, that's what I thought you were, an innocent sinner. Now, even the legends say that I'm destined to save the world – from you."
"Are you going to kill me for lying to you, Lex?"
Lex's eyes narrowed and he moved another step forward, seizing a fistful of Clark's hair and twisting his head back in one rough motion. "The legends also say that you've come to end the world, Clark, and I am the only one who can stop you. It's not personal, you see."
Using two fingers of the same hand that held the dagger, Lex removed Clark's glasses from his nose and, after a critical glance down at Clark's face, tucked them into the chest pocket of Clark's torn shirt, almost tenderly. The blade of the dagger glowed whenever it approached Clark's bare skin, chiming with a strange, magnetic resonance, and Clark felt its unearthly heat, yet he couldn't rid himself of his disbelief at Lex's actions.
Lex looked perfectly rational underneath his strange attire, so close to slitting Clark's throat, still studying him with a clear, attentive gaze, seeming utterly unburdened by any feeling of guilt, a true murderer. Clark felt something inside him break: that last vestige of trust and faith in a remnant of humanity in Lex, something he hadn't known he still harbored, was lost.
Clark struggled once more, knowing it was useless, but refusing to go down without a fight. He wasn't going to make it easy on Lex. "Saving the world was never anything but a convenient excuse for you –"
Lex's hand tightened viciously on his hair once again, making Clark gasp at the unfamiliar pain. His invulnerability seemed as gone as his powers. There was a dangerous flash in Lex's eyes now, the red reflection of flames, and the blade caressed Clark's cheek in a searing line of agony.
"You have no idea, Clark," Lex hissed, "what I've done to protect this world - or what I'm willing to do."
Dijan and the jaguar woman raised their voices in a single guttural cry. "The destined time has come to pass! Slay him!"
The drums reached a sudden, painful crescendo, a relentless beat that Clark felt in every fiber of his body, and then they fell silent. Harsh breathing was heard everywhere in the room. Sweaty, ecstatic faces stared breathlessly at Lex and the dagger, full of admiration and excitement.
Lex's eyes narrowed. He raised his chin, looking around, and then dropped the dagger with a clatter at Tepec's feet.
"I'm not going to kill this man."
He let go of Clark. A shocked, angry muttering rose all around them, and the crowd edged closer. Lex turned on his heel so that he stood with his back to Clark, facing the two priestesses.
"If you honor the legends, neither will you! You know that only Segeth may kill Naman! Your legends proclaim it so!" Lex told the assembled Lemurians. Clark stared up at Lex's back in uncomprehending surprise, but Lex never spared him a glance. His eyes were on the crowd with the practiced intensity of a man used to commanding others.
The old jaguar woman and Tepec were stunned, wordless at Lex's behavior, but Dijan moved in quickly and raised both hands. "Silence!" she shouted at the crowd, in English and in their own language. She spat an order at Lex. "You will fulfill your destiny. If not now, then you'll do it when your spirit has been cleansed and your journey has come to its natural conclusion. You will kill him!"
"I'm sorry," Lex said, unimpressed. "But I've always preferred to choose my own destiny."
"Spider Mother - ?" Tepec asked Dijan, confused. He was wringing his hands anxiously. "What shall we – "
"Take them to the pits," Dijan ordered, with a meaningful glance at Tepec. "Bind them to each other and leave them to their fate. They'll stay there until fasting clears their spirits, and then Segeth will kill the Pahana Naman."
Lex moved forward. "This was not part of our agreement," he objected angrily.
Spider Mother picked up the dagger. "If you wish to honor the agreement, Segeth, you still have the chance. You seemed eager enough to kill Superman when we first told you of our legends."
Lex glared at the dagger, then took a step back, his chin high and his eyes flashing. One guard menacingly stepped into his way and raised his golden spear weapon, a crackle of electricity coiling around the point.
Dijan pulled a third shackle, identical to the ones around Clark's wrists, from her belt. She stepped close to Lex, speaking so low that only those closest to them could hear, while the assembled Lemurians would not have been able to understand.
"When you're starving in the pits with the creature, Luthor, you'll change your mind about destiny. We'll give you the dagger," she informed Lex, obviously quite pleased with the development. "Kill him and the shackles will open, and you'll be free."
*
Lex was going to kill – well, he was going to kill someone. Dijan, the cunning witch, was on the top of the list. But Clark, if it was going to be him, Lex was going to kill when and where he decided to do it. Not when it suited some crazy mutant polar Indians and certainly not when he was being told to.
He hadn't exactly been overjoyed to learn that, according to Lemurian legends, he was destined to kill Superman. Lex had long ago learned that destiny had a habit of being a traitorous turncoat that bit him in the ass right when he expected it the least. However, the prophecy was deeply reminiscent of Kawatche lore, claiming that Superman was going to bring destruction and death, possibly for the entire human race. Someone was needed to defeat him and save the world, and truth to be told, Lex hadn't needed the spiritual pep-talk to tell him that this someone was he. After all, who else was going to stand up to Superman?
People weren't exactly lining up to kill him, and none of Superman's other enemies had Earth's welfare in mind – besides, few of them were even a fraction as competent as Lex. The only reason he hadn't fully defeated Superman yet was caution – caution and the alien's dumb luck.
Nevertheless, he had suspected from the start that it couldn't possibly go that smoothly. It was an unpleasant fact that whenever things looked as if they might succeed, someone had to throw a wrench into Lex's plans. And this someone, more often than not, was Clark Kent.
The idiot – Lex sent him a furious, sideways glance as they were ushered down the sloping hill from the pyramidal temple where the ritual sacrifice had almost taken place – had stumbled directly into the Lemurians' trap. It was typical for Superman, thoughtless and… but Superman was Clark. Lex wasn't used to thinking of Clark as stupid, or arrogant, or any of the usual insults his mind had always ready for Superman. Clark was hypocritical and self-righteous, and the biggest liar Lex had ever known, but at the same time, Lex was always keenly aware of all the positive qualities Clark possessed. He had spent long sleepless nights mapping out the times Clark had saved his life, his sanity, his soul. He listed the times that Clark's mystery had been the only thing to keep him going, the one constant direction on his madly spinning compass, and true north in the Bermuda Triangle of Lex's life.
Even more reason to hate him. Lex hated needing things. Dependency was the worst of all weaknesses.
But still, his hatred for Clark and his hatred for Superman were two entirely different things. Superman he wanted dead and gone, but Clark belonged in the same category as his father, as Lana: a passionate enmity until 'death do us part.'
That promise had suddenly become rather more literal than Lex had wanted. He could feel the weight of the dagger against his side, tucked into the ridiculous ceremonial robes, and the shackle around his wrist tugged sharply at him every time Clark stumbled, which he did annoyingly often. All he had to do was kill Clark, and he'd be free.
He had no desire to learn what exactly 'the pits' were, but the priestess had made it sound as if he and Clark were to be left without food or water until one of them went crazy and killed the other. Knowing how they both thought, Lex suspected that they'd both end up dead, far too proud to give in to such base impulses, but he wasn't going to test the theory.
They were walking on a grassy path barely wide enough to let a car through, with the whole congregation of Lemurian believers following them, the crowd a little more subdued than they had been in the temple. Dijan's suggestion to throw them in the pits had barely prevented a mass panic, but Lex couldn't help suspecting that she had planned it this way all along. They were all scared as hell of Naman, but the smart and powerful among them weren't thrilled about Segeth, either: they could obviously do without a foreign savior.
To their right, below the path, was the river, a fast moving, muddy torrent that he had seen on the way to the temple. Boats, most of them canoes carved from single trunks, were either tied to the lower branches of the trees overhanging the water or pulled up onto the steep shore. A strip of thick forest separated them from the river, the same subtropical rainforest that covered most of Lemuria. It would provide cover from the spears that were the Lemurians' preferred weapon. The dagger, Lex hoped, would be enough to sever the ropes that bound the boats.
He slanted a sideways glance at Clark, and found him irritatingly inattentive, gaping around with wide, confused eyes. Without those ridiculous glasses they were much clearer, but far from Superman's inhuman steely gaze. Lex almost wished he had Superman by his side, because Clark was being singularly useless when it came to planning an escape. When Lex tugged sharply at their cuffed hands, Clark stared at him with that same startled expression he had worn since Lex had refrained from slitting his throat: as if Lex was the alien in the equation, and entirely incomprehensible to boot.
He flailed when Lex abruptly stopped and jerked Clark out of the way in order to throw a punch at the closest guard, who went out cold, perhaps even dead. Lex had hit his nose at a dangerous angle and with all the force of his rising rage. The Lemurians, quite unused to violence in their tiny and peaceful society, immediately fell into chaos, shouting in confusion and bumping into each other in their hasty attempts to subdue him. Tepec and the other guard moved forward and, hindered by Clark's useless weight, Lex managed only an ineffectual punch into the guard's unprotected gut, knocking him back into Tepec.
"Run!" Lex snarled at Clark, and dragged him along into the forest, out of the range of the spears.
They made good headway for a minute, Clark too stunned to object or fight their flight, but then he stopped dead, nearly sending Lex sprawling, and gasped, "Lex, where – "
Lex didn't let him finish, grabbing him by the shoulders instead and pushing him back against a huge, red-barked tree, relishing the fact that for once they were almost equal in strength. It was obvious that something the Lemurians had done to Clark was sapping his powers. Up close, their noses nearly touching and the slick fabric of the alien suit covering Clark's chest taut beneath his fingers, Lex hissed, "Do as I say and run! And shut the hell up!" before pushing Clark along again, heading for the river. The muddy yellow water was glittering between the undergrowth, but their pursuers were getting closer as well, hot on their heels, their shouts and the sounds of breaking branches much louder than the rushing sound of the water.
As soon as they found a boat, Lex whisked out the dagger, which caused Clark to flinch away from him in fright. Ignoring him, Lex gritted his teeth and started slashing at the hemp rope, which was thankfully thin. The dagger, he thought, burned instead of cutting, but it did its work well enough. With a final sharp tug at the rope, it came apart. Clark had finally caught on and splashed into the water, even before Lex did, rocking the boat with his heavier weight as he jumped into it. Lex followed, pushing them off the shore as far as he could before the link between their cuffs forced him to either jump in the small boat or be dragged along behind it.
Clark stared over his shoulder at the tree line until Lex pressed a narrow paddle into his free hand, and then they were both thrashing away at the water with more desperation than expertise, even as the first Lemurians splashed into the water, shouting and brandishing their spears. One, a short ordinary wooden thing, was thrown after them and just barely missed, but then Lex saw Dijan raise her hand and shout. The Lemurians stopped their pursuit, falling back quickly as the fast current pulled the small boat along. Paddling was awkward, since the boat was too narrow for them to sit next to each other, so instead, they had to sit with their cuffed hand awkwardly wedged in between Clark's back and Lex's chest and each use their paddles with one hand. Nevertheless, their speed increased steadily, until paddling became almost useless. Soon the cover of fog would hide them entirely.
"We made it," Clark said breathlessly, glancing back over his shoulder. Shouting over the rushing noise of the water he added, "They've given up."
Whatever spiteful answer Lex might have given died in his throat. His face was already wet from the steam that made it impossible to see farther than Clark's dark head, and the noise had risen from loud rushing to a deafening thunder. Suddenly, their boat dropped away from beneath them, and Clark screamed like a man who had never in his life laughed in gravity's face.
