Countdown (18 page)

“Barda of Apokolips,” she stated.

Jimmy’s heart sank. “Big Barda’s dead?” Although raised on hellish Apokolips, the statuesque warrior woman had rebelled against Darkseid and forged a new life as a super heroine here on Earth, fighting alongside her husband, Mister Miracle. Jimmy couldn’t imagine how devastated Scott Free must be right now; he and Barda had loved each other fiercely. “Aww, no! That’s
awfull
”

“Far worse is the crux of the problem,” Forager said coolly. Jimmy guessed that she hadn’t known Barda

personally. “Bad enough that their bodies are slain, but the souls of the murdered gods are lost. Could they have been spirited away by the assassin? Are they being held hostage even now, denied their rightful place beyond the Source Wall?”    " '

Jimmy suddenly remembered the holographic wall that had materialized while he was being examined at Cadmus earlier, as well as the gaping holes in the chests of Light-ray and Sleez. Had Barda’s heart been missing as well? All these mysteries were connected somehow, he realized, but, just like the Joker had taunted him, he still couldn’t see the big picture yet.

Maybe Forager held the missing pieces of the puzzle? “J immy Olsen,” she addressed him solemnly, “you have had more contact with the New Gods than any other Earth-bug. Furthermore, you have been present at the deaths of ' two of the victims. I humbly request that you join my search for the missing souls. It may be the single most important quest our worlds will ever know.”

He had no idea how to respond to a plea like that. “I, um ... I mean ... I’ve kinda got a lot of my own stuff going these days....”

“This is more important than the needs of any single being,” she insisted, refusing to let him off the hook. “Whoever stole those souls is now in possession of a power the likes of which could destroy all of reality and bring about the creation of the Fifth World!”

Jimmy was aware that the mythology of New Genesis held that the birth of the New Gods had heralded the dawn of the Fourth World, although he had always been a little fuzzy on what exactly the previous three Worlds had been. “Oh man, you mean the end of the world... ”

Honestly, an impending cosmic crisis was way more than he had bargained for. At the moment, he was tired and filthy and wanted nothing so much as to go home and veg out for a while. Let the Justice League or the Teen Titans assist Forager on her quest. He just wanted the universe to leave him alone for a few hours. Was that too much to ask?

On the other hand, he recalled guiltily, hadn’t he just told Serling Roquette that he was tired of only being Superman’s sidekick, that he craved some grand destiny of his own? And hadn’t he insisted to Robin that he was eager to use his enigmatic new abilities to help people?
Well, Olsen, here’s the opportunity you were waiting for. Are you ready to put your money where your mouth is?

“Okay, Forager,” he agreed, “This is what I wanted to sign up for, so I’m in.” He nodded decisively. “I’m your man.”

Although maybe they could swing by his apartment first, for a quick shower, a change of clothes, and a snack? He hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast....

“Excellent.” Her helmet concealed her expression, but he could tell she was pleased. All six wings vibrated enthusiastically. “Let’s not waste any time.”

Before he could suggest a detour, she pressed one of the translucent gemstones on her gauntlet. Apparently the studs were more than decorative; a deafening blast, like a sonic boom, only louder, preceded the appearance of a circular portal through time and space. A brilliant white light issued from the shimmering vortex, which hovered in the air before Jimmy, who immediately recognized it as a Boom Tube, a means of interstellar transport used exclusively by the New Gods and their allies. Advanced alien circuitry far beyond mortal comprehension lined the inner walls of the tube, which seemed to stretch endlessly toward some unknown destination elsewhere in the cosmos. Via Boom Tubes, even distant New Genesis and Apokolips could be reached in a matter of seconds.

“Wait a minute!” he protested. “You haven’t even told me where we’re going yet!”

But Forager was in too much of a rush to explain. Placing a palm against his back, she shoved him through the portal into the intense white light, then dived through after him. The incandescent gateway dilated shut behind her.

A second boom thundered atop the Daily Planet Building, causing pedestrians several stories below to gaze up at the cloudless sky in confusion. The portal blinked out of existence, leaving only fading echoes behind. Attracted by the staggered blasts, Lois Lane came charging up onto the roof, eager to uncover the source of the noise. “Hello?” she called out curiously. “Is anyone there?”

No one answered.

The roof was empty.

OUTSIDE BOTHAM CITY.

“1katsu emoh.”

'
Zatanna’s magical incantation instantly transported her and Mary from the deck of the
Lemaris
to the front yard of a creepy Gothic mansion hidden away in the woods. Spiked turrets rose from the looming stone walls. Batwinged gargoyles perched upon the battlements. Majestic columns and gabled arches adorned its brooding facade. Gray slate shingles seemed to swallow up the moonlight. A winding stairway, guarded by two stone griffins, led up to the imposing front entrance. No light escaped the mansion’s shuttered windows. The somber edifice looked completely dark.

“Welcome to Shadowcrest,” Zatanna said.

Mary took in the eerie scenery. With the cruise ship’s tour cut short by Slig’s attack, Zatanna had graciously offered to tutor Mary in the privacy of the magician’s home. A chill in the air made it clear that they weren’t in the tropics anymore. The Bat-Signal, shining in the distance, revealed that the woods were somewhere outside Gotham. “I’m confused,” Mary said. “I thought you lived in San Francisco?”

“I do, most of the time.” Zatanna led Mary up the stone stairway. A demonic face, complete with curved horns,

ntlNfllCllVii 145

was carved into the pediment above the front door, Mary thought it bore an uncomfortable resemblance to Pharyngula. “This is my father’s estate, where I grew up.” Mary recalled that Zee’s dad, the Great Zatara, had also mixed showbiz with crime fighting. He had died saving the world several years ago. “I still use the place as a getaway when I need to relax.”

A lamp flicked on overhead, illuminating the front porch. A booming voice startled Mary, who nearly jumped out of her boots. “WHO GOES THERE?” ' "

“Hang on,” Zatanna said. “I’ve gotta give the password.” She faced the ponderous oak doors. “‘Hi, I’ve brought some literature. Can I share the Good Word with you?”’ Mary raised an eyebrow. “
That’s
your password?”

“It is today.” Zatanna winked mischievously. “There’s a bit of voice recognition involved too.”

' In any event, the unlikely phrase did the trick. The heavy doors swung open with a rusty squeak. A butler, whose cadaverous features made Dr. Sivana look like the Big Red Cheese, greeted them. “Very good, madam. Welcome.”

Holding aloft a lit candelabra, he led them into a spacious foyer, where Mary was surprised to find an entire crew of uniformed menservants, maids, and housekeepers standing at attention. Intricate tapestries and oil paintings hung upon polished wood-paneled walls. Spotless marble tiles added to the elegance of the stately entry hall. A sweeping staircase ascended majestically toward the upper reaches of Shadowcrest.

Mary was impressed. “You must be loaded to be able to maintain a staff like this at a place where you don’t even spend much time.”

“I do all right.” Zatanna chuckled. She snapped her fingers and a crystal chandelier lit up the foyer. “But not
that
well. The truth is, these servants are just magical manifestations of the house. They’re only around when I need them.” She dismissed the servants with a wave of her hand.
“Ffats ekat a kaerb!”

Mary’s eyes widened as the entire retinue evaporated into thin air. “Pretty neat!” she enthused. “And they’ll just come back whenever you summon them?”

“That’s right,” Zatanna said. “It’s really pretty basic magic, Mary. The kind you’ll be able to do when you’re ready.”

Sounds good to me,
Mary thought, eager to explore her new abilities, although she wasn’t quite sure what Zee meant about having to be “ready” first. After the way she had turned all those sea monsters back into people aboard the cruise ship, Mary figured she was ready right now.
All I need is a little fine-tuning.

Lamps and candles flared up along their way as Zatanna led Mary up the main stairway, then guided her guest through the sprawling mansion, which was packed with antique furniture, eye-catching artwork, and fascinating souvenirs. Framed vaudeville posters of Houdini. Zatara, Sargon the Sorcerer, Carter the Great, and other legendary stage magicians adorned the walls. Medieval suits of armor stood guard along a palatial corridor that seemed to go on for miles. Flickering shadows danced across the dark wooden wainscoting.

“Totally amazing.” Mary complimented Zee on her home. “This place looked huge on the outside, but I swear it didn’t look
this
big.”

Zatanna grinned. “Yep, this house has lots of surprises.” She gestured down the hall. “Next stop on the tour is the library. It’s just down here.”

“But what are all these other rooms?” Mary asked, consumed by curiosity. A closed door inscribed with ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics caught her eye. An open sarcophagus, propped up beside the door, held what appeared to be a genuine Egyptian mummy. Lengths of musty linen were wrapped around the mummy’s stationary form. Its withered hands gripped a gleaming bronze scimitar. Papery brown skin peeked through the bandages over its face.

Given that her new powers derived from the bygone gods of the Nile, Mary was naturally intrigued. She reached for the doorknob. “You’ve only shown me a fraction of—”

“Mary, wait!” Zatanna called out in alarm.

The mummy’s shriveled eyelids snapped open. Springing to life with surprising speed, he swung the scimitar between the door and Mary, driving her back. The blade missed her by inches, so close that she could feel the breeze generated by its passage. A voice as dry as the desert sands shouted at her in a dead language. His breath reeked of tanna leaves.

“Yow!"
Mary exclaimed.

“Thanks, Hassan. It’s all right,” Zatanna said, calling the mummy off. He settled back into his sarcophagus. She took Mary by the elbow and gently escorted her away from the door in question. “You’re not ready for some rooms yet, Mary.”

’ “O-okay.” Mary looked back over her shoulder at the Egyptian door and its undead guardian. Her racing heart, which had gone into overdrive when the sword-wielding mummy surprised her, slowly settled back down. Although embarrassed by the incident, she couldn’t help wondering what exactly Zatanna was hiding behind those hieroglyphics—and why she wasn’t willing to share that secret.
What else is she keeping from you?
a suspicious voice asked inside Mary.
Why does she keep insisting you’re not ready?

“As I was saying,” Zatanna continued, “the library ..

A pair of double doors opened by themselves, admitting the two women into an astonishingly large private library. Packed bookcases, several feet taller than either Mary or Zatanna. lined the walls. Antique desks and plush chairs offered comfortable locales for reading and research. A spiral staircase led up to a mezzanine. Candles ignited in the chandeliers overhead; it took Mary a moment to realize that the chandeliers were actually floating in the air, unsupported by any chains or hooks. A fireplace roared to life in one comer, casting a rosy glow on a nearby suit of armor. A stuffed dragon’s head was mounted over the fireplace. An oval mirror, in a gilded filigreed frame, hung above a glass display case, and picture windows looked out over the moonlit estate below. Mary felt as though she had accidentally stumbled into Hogwarts. “Wow,” she whispered.

The abundant shelves were crammed with books, scrolls, clay tablets, and other documents. Mary was slightly overwhelmed by the sheer size of the collection. Wandering over to the nearest bookcase, she scanned the spines of various leather-bound grimoires, demonologies, memoirs, bestiaries, and other esoteric volumes. Her finger reverently traced the titles on their spines:
The Book of Fate, The Arion Chronicles, Chaos & Order, The Morpheus Prophecies, The Journals of Lady Johanna Constantine. ...

“Some of these books look like they’re centuries old,” she said in an appropriately hushed tone. “I don’t even recognize a few of these languages.”

“That’s because they’re not
human
languages,” Zatanna explained. “And most of those books go back a lot farther than hundreds of years. My family has been collecting them for a
looong
time.”

Mary remembered hearing somewhere that Zee was supposedly descended from Leonardo da Vinci, as well as from a secretive race of sorcerers known as the
homo magi.
A framed photo of Zatanna’s late mother, Sindella Zatara, occupied a place of honor upon the fireplace mantel. The beautiful blonde sorceress had perished while defending her daughter from her fellow wizards. An orphan herself, Mary sympathized with Zee’s loss.

“You could say this is my Batcave,” Zatanna said, showing her guest around the library. “I study here, brainstorm here, practice here.”

A glass display case attracted Mary’s attention. Inside the case was an impressive collection of mystical artifacts. Charms, crystals, amulets, orbs, rings, scarabs, masks, icons, dolls, fetishes, wands, and other talismans rested beneath a clear pane of glass, atop a sheet of black velvet.

COISITIISIWN
1*8

“Look at all of these,” Mary burbled, gazing at the collection like a kid in a candy store. She hadn’t seen a display like this since the Spectre had trashed the Rock of Eternity during his epic battle with Shazam. The wizard’s own collection, accumulated over the course of millennia, had been hopelessly scattered by the ghost’s insane rampage. Maybe some of those missing artifacts had ended up here?