THE RETURN OF THE LADY LIBERATORS

Part III

By Curtis Fernlund

Manhattan, Avengers Island.
Moments After Last Issue…

Carol Danvers groaned as she felt the leather-gloved hand patting her face. She tried to bat it away, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep and escape the pain she was feeling in her back and face and most especially her breasts. She vaguely recalled leaping at the Black Panther only to have him seemingly vanish before something slammed into her back and she plowed into the ground. As luck would have it she must have landed face first on a rock judging from the pain in her forehead.

“C’mon, Carol. Rise and shine.”

Carol Danvers blinked at the sound of the soft voice. She knew that voice, and despite her best wishes forced herself to open her eyes and try to focus. She saw the blurry image of Wanda Maximoff smiling down at her and groaned.

“At a’girl,” the Scarlet Witch said, pressing a hand to Carol’s shoulder to keep her down. “Whoa. Hold on.” Carol lay still as Wanda leaned closer, staring into her eyes. After a moment she nodded and smiled again.

“That’s some goose egg you’ve got,” she said touching Carol’s brow, which caused her to hiss. “Sorry. You’re not concussed as near as I can tell, but rest easy for a bit, okay.”

Carol nodded. “What,” she started, wincing as pain shot through her skull. She clenched her eyes as Wanda pressed a cold pack to her forehead. “Where did you come from?” she finally asked as the icy chill alleviated some of the pounding pain in her head. “What happened?”

“Apparently the Enchantress attacked you all here just as she did the West Coast Compound this morning.”

“But…” Carol winced again, lowering her voice as the pounding receded a bit more. “But we beat her.” She saw Wanda shake her head.

“Susan said that they were transporting her to a holding cell when her eyes popped open and she vanished. By the time she and Scott Lang arrived the witch was casting some spell that rendered the Vision helpless, making his body erupt in convulsions. I know the spell. In humans it shatters bone, but in him…” Wanda shrugged. “His internal maintenance is mending the damage. Susan fought as best she could, but the Enchantress apparently had what she wanted- that being Anthony- and she teleported them all away.”

“But…” Carol struggled to get up, rising up on her elbows. Her vision grayed for a moment and she felt nauseous, but the feeling passed. “How long have I been out?”

“A few minutes.”

“Minutes? How did you get here so fast? You just said that the Enchantress attacked you this morning.”

“Crystal and Lockjaw. He has a link to Black Bolt apparently and can follow him anywhere. Medusa and Crystal arrived just after the Enchantress spirited Simon and Pietro away with her group, just as we arrived just in time for us to see her vanish from here.”

With Wanda’s help Carol sat fully up. Her head was still spinning. “This makes no sense. What’s she up too? She had us cold. Could have killed us all. Why didn’t she?”

“I don’t know,” Wanda said as she frowned. “She mentioned some plan as she gloated after defeating us, rubbing my face in it. I figured it was revenge against the Avengers, but as you said she beat you too, but left.”

“God I need some Tylenol,” Carol groaned as she finally looked out and about. There were Guardsmen and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents everywhere tending to the wounded. Nearby she saw a Medic hovering over Storm and heard a sickening crunch of bone as he popped her broken nose back into place. Hawkeye was still pinned to the wall, fuming. She saw another Medic snaking a tube meticulously through the webbing that covered Songbird’s face; oxygen Carol assumed. She saw Janet Van Dyne speaking with the Black Widow (and would learn later that Natasha had taken the brunt of the impact of Captain America flying into the Meeting Room). She saw Reed and Susan Richards conferring with the Vision, his android frame occasionally bubbling in spots as internal repairs were made. Nightcrawler and Captain America were up and about, both speaking with Medusa and Crystal, Lockjaw lounging at their side. At the far edge of the area she saw Nick Fury berating Maria Hill for some reason, smoke billowing from his cigar.

“So what’s our next move?” Carol asked as a Medic handed her two painkillers and a water bottle. She popped the pills and drank greedily, still parched from Storm’s manipulating the humidity.

“Our next move will be to follow Black Bolt,” the Scarlet Witch said as she stood. “You, however will be resting and getting back to normal.”

“Fat chance,” Carol snorted as she too struggled to rise. The world seemed to tilt and sway for a moment, spinning wildly and flickering gray but finally settled. “You think I’m sitting this out? Think again.”

“Carol, you’re hurt,” Wanda said as she strolled towards Hawkeye. “You suffered a major blow and need time to recover. No one will think any less of you if you sit this out. You need to rest.”

“Plenty of time to rest in the grave,” Carol said as the two women stopped before the still-pinned Avenging Archer. It was the first time that she had ever seen him blush. Wanda glanced at her a moment, then turned her attention to her old friend.

“Hello, Clint,” Wanda said with a wide grin. “I have to say that I’ve never seen you looking better. Bondage becomes you.”

“Well, hardy-har-har,” Hawkeye said in his best Jackie Gleason impression. “Can ya just get me down without the commentary, Wanda?”

“What’s the magic word?” Carol had to smirk as Hawkeye grumbled.

“Please…” he said through gritted teeth.

“Say, ‘pretty please with sugar on top’.” Carol laughed, then groaned as her head started to pound again.

“Forget it,” Hawkeye said. “I’ll just hang here. Damn webbing will dissolve in awhile.”

“Okay.” Wanda shrugged and patted Hawkeye’s cheek before turning and walking to Songbird. She touched a finger to Melissa Gold’s face and with a scarlet flare of energy the webbing fell away. Songbird gasped for air, pulling the tube from her mouth.

“Thank you,” she said, forcing a smile.

“We have to go,” Medusa said as she approached, Crystal beside her, everyone gathering around. “Lockjaw is restless. Blackagar is far, far away.”

“How far is that?” Janet Van Dyne asked. “I can’t begin to understand your dog’s abilities but I thought he could traverse dimensions.”

“He can,” Crystal said, hugging her friend about the neck. For his part, Lockjaw yawned then licked his huge lips with his massive tongue. “But he has limits. The Enchantress has apparently teleported far. I can sense that Lockjaw can barely feel his connection to my liege and brother-in-law.”

“That was not the Enchantress.”

At the cold monotone of the Vision’s voice everyone turned to stare.

“What d’ya mean?” Hawkeye finally said and the Vision glanced at him.

“As I clearly stated, the being that we fought was not Amora the Enchantress. I have encountered her and have recorded her voice, tones and inflections in my memory banks. We encountered a woman with mystical abilities and Asgardian in origin, but it was not the Enchantress. Who she might be I cannot hypothesize. Her voice is not encoded in my memory, thus I have never encountered her before.”

“That makes no sense,” Wanda said. “Why would someone disguise themselves as Amora and attack us all, kidnapping various men? It all points to the Enchantress, seeking revenge against the Avengers.”

“And the Lady Liberators,” Natasha added. “If you’ll note her victims; myself, Medusa, you and Janet. She attacked all of us.”

“We’re missing something here,” Susan Richards said. “Some other agenda. Why would she take the men that she did? I mean Wonderman and the Panther are at opposite ends of a power scale. It makes no sense.”

“Actually, it does,” Reed Richards said as he looked thoughtfully at his wife. “The Enchantress – or whoever she is has gathered a wide array of power, intelligence and ability for her stable. Strength in Wonderman, swiftness in Quicksilver, intelligence in the Black Panther, strategy in Namor, luck in Spider-Man. She seems to have covered all the bases, whatever her final plan.”

“Arrrooo…”

Everyone turned to Lockjaw, the massive Inhuman dog fussing and fidgeting as it snuffled after howling.

“We must go,” Crystal said, hugging the beast more tightly about the neck, trying to sooth it. “His link to Black Bolt is fading fast.

“Fine,” Hawkeye said. “Just get me off this damn wall, and we’ll go.”

“No.” Everyone turned to Janet Van Dyne and she blushed. “I mean, we’ll get you down, Clint, but you won’t be going.”

“C’mon, Janny,” Clint Barton said squirming in the webbing that continued to hold him fast to the wall.

“Surely we will all be need to beat this sorceress, whoever she is?” Nightcrawler said looking puzzled.

“No,” the Scarlet Witch said as she stepped to Hawkeye and dissolved the webbing with a Hex. Hawkeye dropped to the ground, free at last “I have a premonition that you – that any male would be a liability. I’m sorry, Kurt, but this is a job for the Lady Liberators…”

Niffleheim…

The Mighty Thor stood before the very gates of Hel, contemplating his next move*. M’Jolnir was heavy in his hand as he stared at the Lands of the Dead, grim Hela’s realms where his great strength would be tested to its fullest mettle. Somewhere within, beyond the borders his scheming half-brother Loki plotted against the fate and future of the Golden Realm and All-Father Odin had charged his heir to stop the Trickster; the adopted son born of the Frost Giants.

* Why? See Marvel Omega’s Mighty Thor #7!

“How long, brother…” Thor whispered, gripping the handle of his mystic Uru hammer, wringing it in sweating palm. He knew there were many that he had dispatched within the realms of the dead. Many that would seek vengeance and retribution as soon as he crossed that foul border. “How many times must I beat thee back?” Thor sighed and strode forward as a shadow stepped up to meet him.

His eyes widened at the sight of Axe, leader and foremost of Odin’s Choosers of the Slain, his Valkyrior, with Brunnhilde missing. She was dressed in her black garb and silver armor, her spear held proudly before her as she blocked the Thunderer’s path.

“Hold, Odinson,” she said, planting the haft of her long spear into the cold, gray ground. “Your time is not yet come. You are not welcome here.” Her one good eye blazed as she stared him down, the golden patch over the other glistening.

“Mine brother resides within thy borders, fair Axe, plotting and scheming our downfall, no doubt with his daughter, thy Lady, Dark Hela. Mine Lord and Father has set me the task to bring him back. Seek not to bar my way.”

“I have no doubt that whatever Loki schemes it is to our ill fortune,” the Valkyrior said heavily. “But he was invited, whereas you seek to invade. It is my duty to stop thee, or die in the attempt. Thus have I been ordered, and my loyalty is no less than thine.”

The Mighty Thor stared at the Valkyrior for a long, hard moment, then raised M’Jolnir high. “Then I salute thee, Axe. I shall be merciful when I dispatch thee.” The Valkyrior smirked.

“As will I, Odinson.”

Both warriors raised their weapons, prepared to attack, yet paused when they heard the sound of… applause? As one they turned, both curiously eyeing the assemblage before them.

“Who…” the Valkyrior said as she turned her spear towards the new threat.

“The Enchantress,” Thor spoke, “and many of mine allies from the Mighty Avengers along with Black Bolt, Lord and Monarch of the Hidden Realm of the Inhumans.”

Thor stared at his one-time allies, mortals that he called friend. He could easily see that the witch had ensorcelled them all; brave T’Challa, the Black Panther, the Savage Sub-Mariner, the Amazing Spider-Man, the Invincible Iron-Man, Simon Williams, the Wonderman carrying Captain America’s fabled shield, the fleet-footed Quicksilver, and again the mute monarch of the Inhumans, Black Bolt. At the fore stood Amora the Enchantress, and at the rear stood the Olympian Titans; Kratos and Bia. Together a force to be reckoned with, though Thor could not imagine why the witch had gathered them all save for some act of vengeance.

“What do thee here, Amora?” he asked, hoping to avoid a battle. He had another quest, a mission that could not be delayed or denied. He heard the Enchantress laugh in response and eyed her curiously, her silver-belled voice betraying her true identity. “Lorelei…” he whispered.

“Aww…” the woman said still mirthfully giggling. “You guessed.”

Thor watched as the façade melted away. Blonde hair darkened to scarlet as the frame and body thinned, losing mass. The earthen clothing swirled and spun and brightened from gray to the white tunic favored by Amora’s younger sister, covered and accentuated in gold trim and bangles. There was little change in the beauty however, the younger Lorelei mirroring Amora in grace and form.

“What is this?” Axe said stepping beside the Thunder God, spear raised high. “Who is this that brings mortals to the very gates of Hel through the mists of Niffleheim? Warriors true I can sense, but none belong here.”

“Her name is Lorelei,” the Mighty Thor stated eyeing the warriors gathered before him. He could feel the tension in the chill air as they bristled waiting for the command to attack. “She is sister to Amora, the Enchantress. But why she appears here and now I cannot fathom.”

“Why to kill thee, Thunderer,” the witch said slipping back into her true mode of speech with a wide, impish grin. “Or to enslave thee again. Whichever thou dost prefer. ‘Tis of no consequence to me. I shall gain my revenge, whether to see thee beaten and bloodied or kneeling willingly at mine feet. You shall succumb, regardless.” Lorelei smiled widely as she stepped back through the ranks of her slaves.

“Take him…”

And the battle was joined…

Manhattan, Avengers Island…

“I still don’t like this,” Hawkeye groused as he stood a short distance away with the other men. Janet Van Dyne looked at them as the women gathered about the huge Inhuman dog, trying to remain close, hopefully to touch the beast as they prepared to leave. She herself was shrunken to tiny size and standing on his back.

“A little faith, Clint,” Wanda said standing next to Crystal. “Granted we won’t have your wit and ego along to motivate us, but I think we have more than enough power assembled here to handle the Enchantress, or whoever she is.”

In that the Winsome Wasp agreed. The Scarlet Witch alone was at least as powerful as the Enchantress in magic, plus her mutant Hex powers. Add to that the two elementals of Storm and Crystal, Madame Medusa and her living tresses, Songbird and her sonic abilities, the Black Widow’s skill, her own Wasp’s Sting and of course the Invisible Woman who was debatably the most powerful of them all. The only potential liability among them was Ms. Marvel. Weakened in the Avengers battle with Ultron she was not yet up to full strength and bereft of her ability to absorb energy. Still, Carol was a fighter and was now decked out in a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform for some added protection and refused to be left behind if only the ‘Lady Liberators’ were to go.

Jan smiled at that, remembering how the original group had gathered in a time when women were struggling for equal rights. Tricked by the Enchantress of course to fight the Avengers, still they had made a good showing of themselves.

“I have to admit that I concur with Hawkeye,” Reed Richards said. “Not that I don’t have faith in your abilities of course, but rather that you are all rushing blindly into an unknown situation and about to face several of the world’s strongest Marvels. “As has been pointed out, Lockjaw’s abilities could transfer you all into a hostile environment; a dimension detrimental to your health, unknowingly.”

“Lockjaw would never endanger me in that way, Professor,” Crystal spoke up. “He’s as intelligent as he is cuddly.”

“We’ll be fine, Reed,” Susan Richards added as she kissed her husband on the cheek and joined the others.

“But we must go,” Madame Medusa said standing at the giant dog’s flanks. She too was wearing a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, having changed from the formal gown that she had worn at the United Nations. “The longer we delay, the greater the chance that Blackagar will move beyond his link to Lockjaw.”

“Fine,” Hawkeye said with a grimace. “If we can figure a way to follow we will.”

“And be careful,” Nightcrawler added.

Janet Van Dyne looked at the men gathered, all friends, all concerned and looking grim; Hawkeye and Reed Richards, the new Captain America, the Vision. Even Nick Fury seemed tense, though he said nothing as he stood beside Maria Hill.

“We will, Kurt,” Storm said as she smiled at her old friend and placed a hand on Lockjaw even as the great dog snuffled.

Janet felt static crackling in the air as the antennae on Lockjaw’s brow began to glow. She felt a queasy sensation as sparkling gold washed up and about them, enveloping them all as the world seemed to fall away…

Niffleheim…

“Oh, god…” Carol Danvers groaned as she staggered through the swirling mists. Her stomach was churning as she tried to find her legs and she was regretting all of the coffee that she had drank that morning.

“Sit, Carol,” Crystal said placing a black-gloved hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her down. Carol complied, flopping down on the cold, damp stone. “Put your head between your knees. The feeling will pass. I remember Johnny telling me about his first trip with Lockjaw and he had the same reaction. Projectile vomiting is not an uncommon result of stepping through dimensions.”

“Oh god…” Carol leaned to the side and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the rock strewn ground.

“Where are we?” she heard the Black Widow ask and felt just a tinge of jealousy. Natasha Romanoff seemed unfazed by the dimensional shift and was standing tall and proudly next to the Invisible Woman.

“I have no idea,” Crystal answered. “But I’m confident that Lockjaw brought us as close to Black Bolt as he could.

Carol looked up, wiping her lips after she finished retching and took in the land about her. It was rocky earth permeated with a swirling, chill mist. She could not see far, but what she saw seemed depressing.

“Do you hear that?” she heard Storm say as she raised her arms and the mists swirled away at her command. “The sounds of battle in the distance. How far I cannot say. This land is… strange.”

Carol saw the others cock their heads, listening, and finally she heard someone shouting in prose. “Thor?”

“It does sound like him,” Janet Van Dyne said as she flitted past, her tiny gossamer wings beating madly. “Let’s go!”

Susan Richards helped Carol to her feet and ran with her as the Liberators headed towards the sounds of battle. The ran forever it seemed, Storm leading the way and dispersing the fog that seemed to cloak the land. A wind whistled about them all, and Carol saw that Crystal was using her powers to change the climate as well.

Finally, one by one they crested a rise and stopped staring down at the scene below…

It was indeed Thor, and the missing heroes that had been captured by the bogus Enchantress. They were surprised to see an armored woman in the midst of the battle raging, locked hand-in-hand in a struggle of strength vs. strength with the Savage Sub-Mariner, while the rest of the ensorcelled men seemed to be concentrating on the Mighty Thor. Too they saw Kratos and Bia; the Titans dressed in full armor and armed with battle mace and bastard sword flanking a scarlet-haired woman that even the Lady Liberators mentally considered gorgeous.

“Blackagar…” Madame Medusa whispered, moving forward until Susan Richards put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head to wait.

“At least we know where we are,” Storm said as the breeze continued to swirl the wispy fog, picking up strength.

“Maybe you do,” Carol Danvers said as she pulled the S.H.I.E.L.D. issued .354 Magnum from her shoulder holster. Nicolas Fury himself had given her the weapon along with a series of speed loaders that contained shells of various grain and intensity; AP, Fragmentary and one that he guaranteed packed a ‘wallop’. “Me, I’m in the fog here.”

“It is the Land of the Mists that borders Hell and Valhalla in Norse mythology. One of the Nine Worlds,” Storm continued, “Niffleheim.”

“So we are in Asgard,” the Beauteous Black Widow said watching the struggle below as she adjusted her Widow’s Bite and Line. “That makes sense, I guess.”

“He needs us…” Medusa said, watching as her liege and monarch, husband and father of her child was batted away by the God of Thunder. He in turn was staggered as the Wonderman slammed Captain America’s shield across his back.

“If this is Niffleheim,” the Scarlet Witch said as she hugged her cloak about her against the growing, chill wind, “then the woman- whoever she is- will be even more powerful. We’ll need a plan.”

“Not to worry,” Janet Van Dyne said with an impish grin as she lighted on Wanda Maximoff-Magnus’ shoulder. “I think I see what we need to do. Listen…”

“T’Challa! Release me!”

Thor sounded desperate as he clawed one-handed at the tight grip that the Black Panther had achieved about his throat. It did not hurt in the least, but it prevented the Thunderer from venting his full fury on the slaves of Lorelei. He did not wish to injure his ensorcelled friend, but the Black Panther had locked his legs about his throat and could not be moved. Leverage, Steven Rogers had called it; an effective thing.

It prevented Thor from calling forth the storms and lightning that were his to command. His old friend would surely die in the wrath of the tempest and Midgard would be a lesser place for his rash actions. Yet it was becoming apparent that the Panther had no fears as to his own safety as he held tight whilst his enslaved comrades battered at the God of Crops mercilessly…

Wonderman continued to slam Captain America’s shield into his back, which made Thor give pause as to the fate of the man that had replaced Stephen Rogers…

Meanwhile, Black Bolt hammered his fists against the Thunderer’s front with devastating results. Each blow struck like a war hammer and would have sent the Thunder God reeling but for Simon Williams’ combined assault…

The Spider-Man had foolishly- at least Thor had thought it foolish at first- entrapped M’Jolnir in Thor’s fist with his thrice-cursed webbing. But Thor soon realized that now he could not call upon most of his Uru Hammer’s enchantments as it was locked in his grasp. He could only swing and strike, and that might perchance slay an ally…

And Quicksilver was like a gnat, continually speeding past and about, nipping and biting. His blows were ineffectual except to distract the Lord of Thunder, breaking any concentration to the point of annoyance…

But worst was the Iron Man. He simply hovered overhead, his golden armor doing something that made Thor’s ears ring and the pounding in his head grow….

Only Namor, the Lord of Atlantis was preoccupied, locked in mortal combat with the raven-haired Valkyrior.

And all the while Lorelei stood safely at a distance flanked by Kratos and Bia, defended from harm.

Thor knew that if something did not change he would be forced to lash out against one of his allies and friends, and when he did one of them would die.

“At ease, Goldilocks! The cavalry has arrived!”

Thor blinked as something tiny, aloft on silken wings, swiftly flitted past his face. He saw a flash of light and heard the Black Panther scream in sudden pain: a shockingly unfamiliar sound from the jungle king.

Thor felt the grip about his throat loosen, and he saw smoke curling from a wound in his attacker’s upper left thigh, just below the hip. The insect-like woman who’d administered that strike zipped in close, and even at miniature size Thor observed the distress on her pretty face as she noted the harm she’d inflicted on a man who, under other circumstances, was a dear friend.

“Janet Van Dyne?” he bellowed. But even before the Winsome Wasp could answer, a jet-clad beauty sprang to the fore.

“That’s right, Thor!” the Beauteous Black Widow shouted as the heel of her boot slammed into the Black Panther’s face at the same time as she fired her Widow’s Bite. Thor felt the slight weight of the Panther fall away utterly with her attack, his throat now free of his wounded enemy’s grip.

“And she’s not alone,” the Widow said as she stood with one foot on the unmoving chest of the King of the Wakandas, her golden bracers pointed at the Panther’s head. “The Lady Liberators have come to call, and the Revolution’s fine.”

Crystal Amaquelin Maximoff hurried down the rough, rocky incline already calling her Inhuman powers to the fore. Her goal of course was Prince Namor the First, Savage Sub-Mariner and King of Atlantis. It was either her or Storm to face the mutant sea king, and she had won.

Janet Van Dyne’s plan to divide and conquer had seemed sound enough. The woman that had ensorcelled the males- whoever she was seemed to have done so not unlike the true Enchantress had done to Dane Whitman years past.* As such they were not any of them at their true fighting abilities and should prove easily outwitted, if not outfought.

* As seen in Avengers #84, mainstream

Crystal skidded down the last few yards of the slope even as a silvery blur whipped past, arching back towards the Mighty Thor. She would much rather have been adding injury to insult to her arrogant ex-husband, the mutant Quicksilver, but knew that she had to stick to the Wasp’s plan if they hoped to save the enslaved heroes and save Thor.

She could still remember their last confrontation, clear as day, every word in verbatim. Pietro Maximoff-Magnus had stolen their daughter away from Attilan after a nasty and disastrous confrontation with Black Bolt’s mad brother, Maximus. The Thing had dealt with Maximus, fatally, but Pietro had been incensed that his daughter had been so placed in jeopardy and had taken her to Earth to secret her away; away from danger, from her insane relatives, and from her mother.*

* As seen in Giant-Sized Fantastic Four at Marvel Omega

Crystal had abandoned her family and the Great Refuge to find little Luna, her daughter, but it had taken weeks of fruitless searching. For all his faults, Pietro was wily and far more intelligent than others had ever given him credit for being. And he was swift of course…

She had visited Bova, the Cow Woman creation of the High Evolutionary on Mt. Wundagore three times before happenstance had allowed her to stumble on Pietro and their daughter. He had been hiding her between Wundagore and the Avengers West Coast Compound, spiriting her away whenever Crystal was near. She had been enraged!

She had shattered Bova’s meager home with earthquake and fire. She had almost slain the caregiver for lying to her and had driven Pietro away with lightning lapping at his heels, squealing like the cur he was and cursing her every step he took, running away. She had not cared.

She had her daughter back, safely in Attilan again. Medusa would deal with Pietro for the moment, harshly she hoped.

Fire flickered from her fingertips as she approached the struggle between the Valkyrior and Namor. She had already added her elemental strength to Storm’s to manipulate the winds in their favor and had increased the humidity about the pair, locked in combat so that both were sweating profusely. Crystal smiled as she saw the Sub-Mariner’s life sustaining liquids leaking away in rippling sheen cascading down his well-honed frame. Crystal raised her hands…

Fire engulfed the Atlantean monarch at her whim. It was her Inhuman ability, her right to control the elements even more so than Storm and Thor himself. She commanded the Living Fire, and was directing it against the Atlantean.

He did not scream to his credit as his armor flickered and flashed in the blaze that she had created. So too, the Valkyrior held her ground though Crystal could see that the heat was affecting her as well. Both warriors held fast for seconds… minutes… but finally Namor dropped to a knee, overwhelmed, his vaunted strength sapped and fading.

The Valkyrior pressed her advantage and bore down, her own strength pressing Namor’s hands back, his arms pulsing as he struggled to regain the upper hand. Finally Crystal saw the Valkyrior shift, driving her knee into the Sub-Mariner’s nose. She heard bone shatter as Namor was lifted from his knees and fell back. Blood spewed as he hit the cold stone where he struggled momentarily, then went unconscious.

The Valkyrior sagged, taking a deep ragged breath then stooping low to retrieve her fallen spear. She turned to Crystal, her armor scorched, skin pink and sooted, her hair singed. She smiled wanly, nodding at Crystal.

“Thank you, sister,” she said and Crystal nodded in kind.

“Now let us save the Mighty Thor.”

Madame Medusa’s eyes strayed towards Blackagar longingly. She wanted nothing more than to go to his side, to save him from whatever spells the scarlet haired Enchantress had ensnared him with, but she knew that she must conform to the strategy that the Wasp had laid forth. They must free ALL the men, and that meant defeating them. And it was her task to stop her erstwhile and arrogant brother-in-law; Quicksilver.

She could do that.

She had done so before, years ago when the original Lady Liberators had gathered. And then he had been in his full mind and wit. Now he was a lackey enslaved by the Asgardian witch and dull-witted. He did not stand a chance.

Medusa watched as the mutant speedster ran in circles, striking the hampered God of Thunder in a flurry of distracting blows then speeding off and arching around to attack again, and again. She let her living tresses flow freely at last, snaking along the ground to encompass Pietro’s path. As he sped away again, then returned she willed them to rise up, tangling in his churning legs, grasping at his body, ensnaring him and rising him upwards where his speed would be useless. With him entrapped, she recalled her locks and drew him closer.

He struggled uselessly as she willed her hair to hold him out and off the ground. There were ways to escape but she knew that his dulled and controlled psyche would be some time in realizing them. As she strode forward she tightened her grip, binding him fast.

“You’re probably not even aware of my contempt, my hatred of you for stealing away my beloved niece,” she said, her hair contracting until Pietro’s eyes bulged and he whimpered. “Be thankful that it is I dealing with you, and not my sister, your once wife. She would be far less forgiving.”

Madame Medusa raised the feebly struggling mutant higher, her living tresses swirling, holding him fast and easily. Then she willed her scarlet locks to slam him to the cold, hard stone at her feet…

Again…

Again…

As she rose higher, Storm saw the others striking hard and fast as was the Wasp’s strategy and it was sound. They were attacking the men quickly and simultaneously, separating them from one another and from the Thunder God as well, giving Thor room to breathe and think. Janet Van Dyne knew that here in the realms of Asgard his powers would be at their peak and that he would also be hesitant to lash out at comrades and friends, and she had been right.

The Winsome Wasp had been one of the Avengers’ greatest leaders in her time, and she was proving why today. Storm soared higher on the winds, sailing about in a long, graceful arch that would bring her over and behind the hovering form of Iron-Man. She could see the battlefield well from the height and already T’Challa, Namor and Pietro had fallen within seconds. She saw too Wanda and Susan moving closer to hopefully deal with Simon Williams and Black Bolt while the Wasp and Black Widow hurried to help Carol against the Spider-Man –

An explosion off to the side caught Storm’s attention and her eyes widened to see the scarlet haired enchantress and the two Titans on the ground amidst the shattered remains of a smoldering crater. They were quickly scrambling to their feet, apparently unharmed but confused. And there! Charging forward was Carol Danvers!

“Oh, Carol… No!”

Something slammed into Storm sending her upwards and flailing through the fog clotted skies of Niffleheim. There was a moments panic as she became lost in the cloying mists, a moment as she gathered her courage and called the winds to her again even as she cleared the air about her.

She saw the Golden Avenger churning towards her and mentally cursed herself for her momentary distraction. She should have known that though Anthony Stark’s razor sharp mind was dulled by the witch’s spells, still his armor would be running at full capacity and he would detect her stealthy approach on his radar sensors.

He was eerily quiet as he soared towards her, the armor’s jets almost silent and swift. She saw that his arms were outstretched and his glowing palms were turning to face her. Storm dove even as the twin beams of repulsor rays slashed through the fog where she had been a heartbeat before.

The Iron Man veered in his flight, giving chase and following down in her wake. Worse he was no longer fighting against gravity’s pull, now almost diving at her and propelled by his powerful boot jets he was gaining on her. Though there were few to match her in the skies in flight, still she was a wind rider, and though she controlled the elements, there were limits.

But the winds were but one of the elements at her command, and even as she spiraled back towards the ground she was calling upon the fury of the icy lands about her. She could feel the ice crystallizing in the mists as she past through, tiny shards battering at her skin as she willed the skies colder and colder. She gathered the strength of the winds, calling them from afar, stretching her abilities to their limits and calling for aid.

The sky darkened as the very air seemed to be freezing solidly, the swirling fog thickening; first to snow, then sleet, to hail lashing as the gale grew about her. Even she who had once been considered a Goddess so long ago; mistress of the storm and Weather Witch could feel the bitter cold of the enchanted realm; far stronger and far more pure than the diluted elements of her own Earth. This gathering storm there would be labeled a ‘Nor-Easter’, a savage blizzard on Earth, but here…

Ororo Monroe knew that she had to control the fury of the tempest before it raged beyond her command. It was growing far too swiftly and surging down towards the lands below it would quickly endanger her comrades. She concentrated, trying to reign in the winds once more, diverting them back into the upper atmosphere to pass above the battlefield, to disperse. Sweat beaded and froze instantly as she struggled, in free-fall now, blowing wildly in the gale as she turned all thought and strength of will on the task at hand…

Something hard and icy cold slammed into her back and suddenly she was plummeting towards the stone below. Flashes of light and speckled gray exploded in her vision as she twisted and floundered, out of breath and falling. She caught sight of the familiar red and gold armor caked in ice and sputtering smoke as it hurtled past to disappear into the thick, swirling clouds below before she too was lost to the dark…

To Be Concluded…