Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

The group followed Evenson deeper into the aircraft in near silence.

The tactical team was especially quiet. Most of them kept their heads down, suddenly very interested in the floor.

They hadn’t been present during the Battle of New York. And everything concerning Evenson’s decisive contribution had been heavily classified and obscured afterward. They knew the Avengers had turned the tide, but they had never seen just how much power one of their members could bring to bear.

Now they had.

Up close.

Very, very close.

Rumlow finally understood why his superior had repeatedly emphasized that his assignment was nothing more than a careful conversation. Confirm what needed to be confirmed. Ask the necessary questions. Do nothing else.

No confrontation. No provocation. No unnecessary moves.

At the time, Rumlow had assumed those warnings were about protecting the organization.

Now he realized they had been about protecting him.

Evenson simply wasn’t someone you could push around.

When they reached the lounge, Melinda dropped onto the couch and propped her chin on one hand. Her expression suggested she was contemplating the collapse of civilization itself.

Claire, meanwhile, looked perfectly calm. She had witnessed the Battle of New York firsthand, so nothing Evenson had done today was particularly shocking to her.

Melinda had known Evenson considerably longer, which meant she had a pretty good idea of what he was capable of.

That wasn’t what was bothering her.

"What?" Claire asked.

"That idiot," Melinda muttered without looking up.

Evenson glanced around. "What did I do?"

Melinda’s head snapped up.

"What did you do? Do you ever think before you act?" she demanded. "You call that covering everything up?"

"The lava washed everything away," Evenson said reasonably. "Once it cooled, it turned into solid granite. I’d say we covered it pretty thoroughly."

He even glanced toward the tactical team, who were standing off to one side and doing their best to become part of the furniture.

Every one of them immediately nodded.

Yes, sir.

Excellent cover-up, sir.

No complaints whatsoever.

"Covered it well?" Melinda shot to her feet. "The incident at the church could’ve been explained as a terrorist attack. Hell, call it a religious extremist attack and people would buy it. But now?"

She jabbed a finger toward him.

"We’re in a region that’s considered geologically stable, and suddenly we get a volcanic eruption that lasts less than a minute. Then it stops, and the entire affected area just happens to be the exact location of that church."

She spread her hands.

"Do you have any idea how much harder that is to explain?"

Melinda had every reason to be furious.

She was the only senior agent assigned to the operation. Evenson was technically nothing more than a consultant. If the situation became a problem later, the responsibility would ultimately land on her desk.

And this particular problem had been created entirely by the consultant.

Evenson thought about it.

"Hmm."

Melinda’s eye twitched.

"Actually, I don’t think it’ll be that difficult," Evenson said. "I know a television program called Fell Into Science. They’re very good at explaining weird phenomena. Their conclusions always sound surprisingly reasonable."

Melinda stared at him.

Evenson continued, apparently unaware that he was making things worse.

"And if that doesn’t work..."

His gaze drifted toward Moru, who was currently standing at the bar and pouring himself a very large drink to recover from the day’s events.

"...you could always spread a few rumors locally. Say the people in the church were involved in some truly terrible business and divine punishment finally caught up with them."

Moru promptly sprayed his drink across the bar.

He clutched his chest and doubled over, coughing.

Why them?!

Their church had survived for a thousand years through discipline and self-denial. They didn’t involve themselves in all that sordid nonsense. The one time they had ever judged a witch, they’d been the ones who got beaten half to death!

Why exactly were they the ones being punished by God?

"Don’t look so offended," Evenson said.

Moru slowly raised his head.

"You lost something as important as the Son of the Devil while it was under your protection. If I were God, I’d say smiting you with lightning was perfectly reasonable."

Moru stared at him.

Fine.

Whatever you say, boss.

He had already undergone a rather dramatic reassessment of Evenson.

When they’d first met, Moru had assumed Evenson was simply the bureaucratic leader of the group. He’d figured the real muscle was the witch from Kamar-Taj and the twenty soldiers accompanying them.

Apparently, he’d gotten that completely backward.

Evenson was the boss fight.

"The Avenger... Black Scythe Lord?" Moru asked cautiously.

"You’ve heard of me?" Evenson said, his expression remaining perfectly neutral. "I’m honored."

The Avengers’ exact capabilities were closely guarded secrets, but their names were already known across the world.

"We’ve heard rumors for some time that the Avengers have a powerful warlock among their ranks." Moru studied Evenson carefully. "But I never expected..."

He paused.

"...I never expected you to be this young."

Magic wasn’t like mutation. It wasn’t something a person could simply wake up with one morning and master overnight. True magical power demanded knowledge, experience, and years of accumulated understanding.

Most powerful practitioners looked like they had spent several decades arguing with gravity.

Evenson, on the other hand, looked far too young.

"Unless..." Moru narrowed his eyes. "You used some forbidden spell to extend your life and maintain your youth?"

"I do know spells like that."

Evenson’s hand unconsciously made the small motion of adjusting a pair of nonexistent glasses.

"But I don’t need one yet."

Moru opened his mouth.

Evenson waved him off before he could continue.

"Enough of that. The winter solstice is less than four days away. We’re running out of time."

He looked directly at Moru.

"So why don’t you tell us everything you know?"

Moru took another drink before crossing the room and sitting on the couch opposite Evenson.

"What do you want to know?"

"The mother and child."

Moru’s expression grew solemn.

"The boy’s name is Danny. He’s the one you called the Son of the Devil."

He pulled a photograph from his coat and placed it on the table.

"His mother is Nadiya, a Romani woman. She once belonged to a criminal named Carrigan. When she was dying, Locke found her and gave her a chance to live."

Moru paused.

"The price was that she bear Danny for him."

Evenson frowned.

"Carrigan? The mercenary who earned himself the nickname ’the disgrace of the profession’?"

"That’s the one," Locke confirmed.

Evenson’s expression became even stranger.

So Nadiya had been Carrigan’s woman.

Then Locke had slept with her, fathered her child, and somehow Carrigan, who had been cuckolded in spectacular fashion, now worked for Locke.

Evenson stared at the photograph.

That man had one hell of a forgiving personality.

"We had planned to send Danny to the Sanctuary soon," Moru continued. "Once he reached it, he would have been safe."

His face tightened with regret.

"We never expected this to happen."

"It’s fine."

Evenson picked up the photograph and studied it briefly before handing it to Rumlow.

Rumlow immediately understood.

He scanned the photograph and uploaded the image into the system.

Within moments, the image was distributed across their network.

Every camera connected to their global surveillance system would now be watching for that face. The moment Danny appeared in front of one of them, the system would flag him and send the information back here.

"We’ll find him," Evenson said. "Then we’ll take him to your Sanctuary."

"I hope so."

Moru reached beneath his shirt and rubbed the cross hanging around his neck.

Melinda, however, clearly wasn’t convinced.

She caught Evenson’s attention and motioned for him to follow her a short distance away.

"You seriously plan to do what he suggested?"

Evenson glanced at her.

"You have a better idea?"

"I don’t trust this Sanctuary."

Melinda folded her arms.

"I think he’s safer here."

She gestured around them.

"This aircraft is practically a flying fortress. It can stay airborne for a month without landing, and it has both visual and radar stealth capabilities. S.H.I.E.L.D. bases around the world can provide aerial resupply whenever we need it."

She continued before Evenson could interrupt.

"We can even request fighter escorts. Forget Carrigan. Even a regular military force would have a hard time bringing us down."

Melinda looked him straight in the eye.

"So why don’t we bring the kid here?"

Her logic was simple.

"Keep him aboard until the winter solstice passes. Once that’s over, the whole thing is finished."

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