Whispering Pines Campground
Olympic Peninsula, WA
March 31, 2006
Yes, it’s time. The man, now in his mid-forties, had grown tired of the toll his chosen profession had taken on him. He could have chosen that other path, but when he started he was young and foolish – and most of all greedy. Now, after many years of spectacular successes and even more spectacular failures, he decided that it was finally time to retire and enjoy the fruits of his labors.
He had begun to plan for this eventuality some time ago. Unlike a number of his colleagues, he had not frittered away his profits on flashy cars or companionship. Well… back in the early days there had been some of that, of course, but for the most part he had made some wise investments and socked away as much as he could. Early retirement was only logical. After all, how many really successful people do you see in this line of work after the age of thirty-five? He pondered the question and had a tough time thinking of many, outside of the head-honchos, of course.
He never really considered going the route of “upper management” himself. Not seriously, at least. He’d formed partnerships in the past, hired a few freelancers when the occasion dictated, but for the most part, he worked independently and preferred it that way. While the larger organizations offered job security (and in some cases a benefits package), the lion’s share of his earnings got kicked back upstairs for management to disburse. And he would only realize the occasional bonus. And then there were the organizational decisions that never quite lent themselves to his plans for early retirement… at least not in the way he envisioned.
Retirement always seemed a long way off. Even so, he decided a little over a year ago to begin plans for closing up shop and transferring the ownership of business assets to his successor. Even as recently as last week he felt that he could remain active in his business for a good deal longer. But today the man had woken up and felt the stiffness in his joints more acutely, saw the grey in his hair and the wrinkles in his face a bit more pronounced and decided that today would be the day.
Now all that remained was to decide who would take over.
The man stood up from his comfortable leather desk chair and took an extremely old silver bell from the place that it shared on a bookshelf with a number of equally antique volumes. He rang the bell twice, sharply, and replaced it. Strangely, its knell continued humming softly for a few moments even after the vibrations had been stilled against the wooden deck of the shelf. The man took a stylish wool sweater from a hook on the back of his study door, pulled it on and stepped out into the living room.
He glanced around at the room. He still found the old wood and brick construction of the place pleasant and charming after all of these years. The former campground with the main lodge and outlying rental cabins had served him well over the years as a place of refuge, and yes, hiding. He hated to leave it behind, but as soon as he had relocated and retired, he knew that he could profit immensely by selling to that developer that was always hounding him.
“Pfff! Condos!” he sniffed aloud at the thought.
Soon his protégés began to materialize out of thin air, heeding the summons of his bell. As they began to emerge from the ether, he quickly decided that he ought to dress to the occasion of his important announcement. He took a glance at his empty right hand and thought a magic word. Instantly his wand, the main source of his power, appeared in his grasp. With a flourish, he waved the wand briefly over his clothes, which were transformed into a brightly colored outfit with mystical symbols on it. It looked like something out of a Cecil B. DeMille Biblical epic.
He then gave the three young people before him a commanding look. Each one knelt before him and his power. He let the supplicants wait a moment longer than usual before he bade them to rise.
“The time has come,” the master announced, “to discuss which one of you shall inherit the power of… The Sorcerer!”
The three faces before him remained stoic, but their eyes barely contained their lust for the power that he was promising. The Sorcerer regarded each one for a moment before he began to speak: Hsu Xian, the young Chinese man who already possessed an inherent mystic force of his own – the power of The Sorcerer would enable him to channel his potential. Sebastian, the well-studied, seemingly omniscient, pre-teen Mexican boy – The Sorcerer suspected that he was much older than his appearance, and his power would undoubtedly be used to unlock the old, forbidden magics. Ivy Russell, the angry, pale-skinned, raven-haired “goth” girl who claimed to be the product of a union between a demon and a human woman – The Sorcerer believed her to possess the greatest power, and the greatest potential for cruelty and destruction, of all of his pupils.
“It’s been over two years since I allowed my power to reach out in summons across the globe. A number of those sensitive responded, but of all who felt my call and who came to me, only you three remain.
“Each of you has chosen a mystic discipline for yourselves. I have made my library and my tutelage available to you in order that you may further your studies and achieve greater control over the forces that you command. You have been provided this sanctuary away from prying eyes where you may perfect your crafts. And most importantly, I have promised this,” The Sorcerer held his enchanted staff with the Egyptian-carved alabaster headpiece out for them to see. “The power of my wand will soon be yours to wield.”
The Sorcerer had never been one to pass up an opportunity to pontificate, and because he knew that his students would never interrupt him as long as he controlled the power, he allowed himself to be more garrulous than usual. “There are several reasons that only you three remain of all of those that responded to my mystic summons. First, and foremost, you have excelled in your studies. That you have prospered under my instruction and protection makes me proud.
“Secondly, each of you has come to understand the lesson I shared when you and the others first arrived: Power taken is never as potent as power earned. When I relinquish this scepter, it will be given freely as power earned. It is unfortunate that one of those who came in answer to my summons was made an example of this lesson. I am reminded of Mister Karsh…” The Sorcerer let his voice trail away as he swept the tip of his wand toward a dark corner to his right and pointed. A soft illumination cut into the shadows. The four sets of eyes looked at the once-human figure, now literally petrified into stone with a calcified look of terror on his face.
“Mister Karsh, who betrayed my trust and attempted to steal my power from me!” the mystic continued in a harsher voice than he had used before, and locked his eyes onto the faces of his pupils when they turned their gaze away from the gargoyle in the corner, “Mister Karsh who, in his betrayal, taught the rest of you the very important third reason why my power shall fall to one of you: Each of you realizes that the power cannot be used to harm me or anyone within my sphere of protection.”
Karsh, the powerful (but unimaginative) Eastern European mystic had gotten the idea that the purpose of The Sorcerer’s instruction was to prepare them to challenge him for his power. In truth, it was an idea that had been planted and nurtured within Karsh by Ivy Russell. He has accumulated a fortune. He commands tremendous power. Why would he simply give the power away? He must expect a challenge. By combat perhaps. After all, The Sorcerer himself had engaged in combat with a number of mystics and so-called “superheroes” over the years, and none had been able to wrest his power from him.
Karsh had managed to surprise The Sorcerer and immobilize him with a binding spell. Once held, the overconfident mage easily battered down the older man’s defenses and wrestled the ancient wand away from him. With it he intended to subjugate the others, form his own mystical band of would-be conquerors and havoc-bringers, and begin his quest for mastery of the world. But first he planned to deal with The Sorcerer as an example to show the others who was in charge.
However, the spell which Karsh cast against his one-time master was reversed upon him, and the fate he had planned for The Sorcerer became his own. At once, Karsh realized what had happened. Knowledge flooded into him in the moments between the time the spell was cast and reversed. The Sorcerer’s wand was an ancient talisman called the Ibis Stick. It was a living thing, and it was bound to The Sorcerer. A very simple, yet powerful enchantment had been placed on the wand by its maker centuries ago – it forbade harm, directly or indirectly, through its use to the person it had bonded to. The Ibis Stick belonged to The Sorcerer.
Upon this revelation and the look of satisfaction he observed on Ivy Russell’s face as he was transformed to stone, he realized that he had been deceived. Then, a moment later, Karsh was nothing more than a statue to be placed in the corner as a reminder to The Sorcerer’s followers about the price of betrayal.
The memory of Andriez Karsh faded with The Sorcerer’s spell of illumination and the attention of the young mages returned once more to their mentor. While none of them knew for certain the secret of the Ibis Stick that had been revealed to Karsh, each of them was reasonably sure that The Sorcerer was immune to the power that he would soon be offering to one of them. Of course they each held out the hope that perhaps one day the secret of that immunity could be countered.
“Very soon one of you will become heir to the power of … The Sorcerer!” the mystic said in dramatic fashion, a habit that had become almost a trademark throughout his years as a notorious criminal. “Before you ask, I haven’t yet decided which of you is to be the one. I have decided that a final test is in order…”
The darkly-attractive demoness was the first to interrupt The Sorcerer’s
exhausting monologue. Her crimson lips broke into a cruel smile,
“Pardon me. A test you say? And the prize is power?
When shall it be? The day? The hour? “
“And what will the nature of this test be, Great One?” the boy Sebastian asked thoughtfully, with a slight accent that was certainly not Spanish.
Only Hsu Xian remained silent, his face impassive. Meanwhile, The Sorcerer
let the questions hang in the air for a moment. He could see Ivy Russell
begin to grow restless waiting for an answer from him, her eyes flicked
first over to Sebastian, then to Xian on the other side.
Finally, the older man spoke. “I require a gift from each of you.
It must be presented to me within three days. Let’s call it a
retirement present. Perhaps we might even have a party,”
he said with a chuckle. He knew that once his power had been bestowed
on one of them, the others would not want anything to do with him…
or with each other for that matter.
“The nature of the gift will be completely up to you. This gift will determine who shall be granted my power. Whoever gives the gift that pleases me most will be named my successor.” The Sorcerer let this sit with them for a moment, then he added, “Let me leave you with one thought: each of you has been here under my instruction for quite a while now. I would hope that in addition to your study, you might have gotten to know something about your teacher.
“Consider that when choosing your gift.”
“… The Sorcerer’s Apprentice”
by
Aaron Storck
Green Dragon Restaurant
International District
Seattle, WA
April 2, 2006
Holly sat in the kitchen absorbing the delicious aromas that wafted about. She was seated at the “family table” in the corner with the proprietor, Max Toy and his other half, Geoffrey. The staff drifted by the table, stopping to drop off a plate of food, pick up an empty dish, or ask a question of Max or Geoffrey.
“… so there we were, hosting the mayor and a party of about fifty or so when the waiter comes over, panic-stricken, and tells me that Geoffrey needs me in the kitchen,” Max said with a chuckle, which quickly became a hearty laugh as he began to think ahead to the punch line of his story. He turned to Geoffrey, laughing, “Do you want to tell it?”
The other man was laughing as well, caught up in his own memories of the event. He leaned over and put his arm around Max’s shoulder for a moment and looked at him, “You go ahead, you tell it better than I do.”
They both looked across the table at Holly who was grinning from ear to ear, caught up in her companions’ humor. Max Toy could see that she was eager to hear the rest of the story, so he continued. “I tell Hong, the waiter, to keep the drinks flowing and to take care of the mayor’s party while I go dashing off into the kitchen. There I am, worried that we’re all out of chicken or something, or worse yet, someone has lost a limb, when I round the corner and I see Geoffrey absolutely drenched!
“He must have seen me coming, because all of a sudden he’s yelling at me to get out of the kitchen. It doesn’t quite register with me at first, but there was a lot more noise coming from the kitchen than there should have been, I had trouble hearing Geoffrey over the noise but I make out the words ‘Lucy’ and ‘dishwasher.’”
“Oh no,” Holly interjected. She looked over at her hosts sympathetically, and saw that Max had begun laughing silently. His face turned deep red and he started shaking convulsively in amusement. After that, Holly blurted out laughing as her mind went through a number of scenarios involving an eleven-year-old Lucy Toy and an industrial dishwasher.
Geoffrey, maintaining his composure for the moment, picked up where his companion left off. “Poor Max. He was all dressed up for the mayor and his party, and here he comes around the corner. I’m already soaked and I try to warn him, but before he knows what’s happening, Lucy pops around the corner and blasts him. She did God-knows-what to the dishwasher and turned it into a water cannon.”
“Are you telling THAT story again?” Lucy Toy, Tinker, asked from the back stairwell, having just entered the kitchen.
Her timely interruption only prompted another wave of laughter from the others. The three seated at the table erupted in a roar, and Lucy’s Uncle Max, shaking in laughter again, waved her over to the table. The slim Chinese woman plopped down next to her friend and grumbled, in mock exasperation. She looked around the table and watched as the others tried to control their amusement.
“I was trying to make the dishwasher blow bubbles,” Tinker explained matter-of-factly, as if it was completely natural for children to rewire industrial appliances.
The table again erupted in laughter. Max Toy was desperately trying to catch his breath while Geoffrey hung on to him as if for support, burying his face in Max’s shoulder. Holly wiped the tears from her eyes. Hilarity continued for a time while Lucy rolled her eyes and sighed and snorted, irritated with the others for not understanding her fascination, her obsession, with all things mechanical.
“I didn’t mean for you to get wet!” Lucy confessed, trying to explain herself.
It was no use. The roar of the table elevated, and soon the kitchen and wait staff within earshot began chuckling. Most had known Lucy for years, and a few of them had been working for Max Toy at the Green Dragon the night that Lucy rewired the dishwasher.
By now, the laughter became so infectious that Lucy herself smiled and, after one look at her dear Uncle Max, now hunched forward shaking uncontrollably, began giggling. Geoffrey reached across the table and squeezed Lucy’s hand. Holly hugged her friend and rested her head on Tinker’s shoulder.
The room began to calm down when Max caught his breath. He looked up, wiped the tears from his eyes and blew his nose into a handkerchief. Soon the staff returned to their duties preparing for the dinner crowd while the four seated at the table settled down.
“So where are you two off to tonight?” Geoffrey asked while Max sipped some tea in an attempt to relax himself.
“Holly’s boyfriend Ken is playing at an open mic show at The Breakroom,” Lucy said, taking a pair of chopsticks from the table and picking at one of the plates. She snagged a piece of chicken and some peppers and swept them into her mouth.
Max Toy finally composed himself. “Lucy says that you and your boyfriend are getting pretty serious. She said that you have practically moved in together,” the man added with a twinkle in his eye.
“Oh, that’s what she said, huh?” Holly asked looking over at her friend. “What else has she told you?”
It was Geoffrey that answered. “Apparently he doesn’t live too far from here. I’m just curious why you haven’t brought him by for us to meet him.”
“It’s funny, but he actually gets food to go from here pretty often. I guess he’s never introduced himself. I’ll make sure that he does next time,” Holly added with resolve.
“Or you both could drop by,” Max offered. “Give us a little notice and we can make up a nice quiet table for you and put something special together in the kitchen.”
“You know, for a special occasion or something,” Lucy added with a tone of conspiracy. “Like for a wedding proposal…”
“I knew it!” Dyna Girl interrupted. She turned to Max and Geoffrey and glared, “I can’t believe that she’s got you two doing this. It was bad enough when it was just her and my father ganging up on me. Then Samantha started in, and now the both of you. She’s even got Bobby sending me Q-mail from San Francisco asking me when the big day is!
“Unbelievable!” Holly said throwing up her arms.
“I think a June wedding would be nice,” Geoffrey suggested without missing a beat. “We’d have the rehearsal dinner here, of course.”
“We’re leaving!” Dyna Girl announced, bounding to her feet.
“Lucy can you get Holly a copy of the restaurant’s calendar? She should be thinking about dates,” Max advised, grinning. “I want to make sure that we have an opening for her and Ken.”
“Sure, Uncle Max. I’ll… WHOA!” Tinker’s train of thought was interrupted. Dyna Girl swiftly jerked her friend out of her chair at the table and was now holding her several inches off the floor by the back of her jacket.
Holly put Lucy on her feet and began dragging her toward the door. “Thanks for dinner! We really have to run!”
Max and Geoffrey heard Lucy’s quick “goodbye” as she was yanked out the back door, which closed immediately behind the two heroines.
Holly released her hold on Lucy’s jacket just outside the kitchen entrance to the restaurant, and stomped on ahead down Maynard Alley toward King Street. When she reached the street, she stopped to wait for her friend to catch up. Dyna Girl fumed silently, while flames shot from her eyes at Tinker as she approached.
Seeing the look on Holly’s face launched Lucy into a fit of the giggles. When she finally caught up to where Holly was at the end of the alley, the petite powerhouse was glaring at her from beneath her creased brow, further fueling Lucy’s amusement. She took Holly’s arm in her strong, skilled, mechanic’s hand and led her down the street toward Dyna Girl’s car.
“I’m not talking to you,” Holly said firmly.
Lucy only smiled and looked at her friend. “Do you know how absurd that is? You can’t tell people that you’re not talking to them.”
“I’d have told someone to tell you that I’m not talking to you,” Dyna Girl admitted, her face beginning to soften, “but there’s no one here to tell you.”
Tinker stopped in her tracks. “What are we? In sixth-grade?” she asked in disbelief. Then she added, “You’re a retard.”
“Takes one to know one.”
Tinker opened her mouth about to retort, but she thought better of it and closed it. After a moment she finally said, “There really is no comeback for the ‘takes one to know one’ defense is there?”
Holly smiled, “Not really. It’s a classic.”
“What about simply calling the other person ‘childish’ for using it?”
“I think it comes across as sour grapes.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Tinker admitted.
They were across the street from the pay-to-park lot where Holly’s red and white Mini Cooper was parked. After waiting a moment for traffic to clear, the two friends crossed to the opposite corner. Holly unlocked the car remotely and walked around to the driver’s side. It took her a moment to realize that Lucy was still on the corner, staring down Maynard Avenue.
“Hey Luce! What’s up?” Holly asked, walking over to where her friend was standing. She looked down the street to see what Tinker was fixated on.
“Oh. That.”
The Forte heroines stared down the road. At the end of the block there was a man in the center of the quiet intersection enveloped by an ethereal green aura. Radiating out in several directions from the emerald core were wraithlike tentacles that looked like mythological Asian dragons, writhing serpent-like down the surrounding streets.
One of the dragon-like feelers swept down the street side to side and approached the two women. It moved much faster than it appeared. Both of them recoiled instinctively as it passed, having no time to duck out of the way. Both felt a wave of cold as it passed through them, but neither were harmed or felt any ill effects.
“What the hell was that?” Tinker asked her teammate.
“It’s your neighborhood,” the other said, bewildered, “I figured you’d know.”
The Asian woman opened her oversized handbag and pulled a large bandolier from within. Heading over to Holly’s car and pulling off her overcoat, removed the liner out of her jacket and tossed the shell through the passenger door and onto the seat. She pulled on the liner, fastened the bandolier across her chest and slipped on her night vision sunglasses.
“Let’s go ask him,” she said with a nod down the street at the glowing stranger.
Dyna Girl had already shaken off her coat and blouse and was dropping her jeans, revealing her own scarlet and gold costume beneath. She took the discarded clothing and put those in her car. The trunk popped open by remote and Holly reached in to a duffle bag to pull out her gloves, boots and sash. Once she had them on, she locked the car.
“I really wanted to go to that open mic tonight,” Dyna Girl said with sighed regret.
“We might still make it,” Tinker said reassuringly, though she was pretty sure they wouldn’t.
“Five bucks says he’s part of some dragon-themed gang,” Holly offered, lifting Tinker by the waist into the night air with her.
“Twenty bucks says he’s working alone,” the other countered.
“Deal.”
The man was focused on his ghostly creations and failed to notice the two women gliding to a landing next to him. It was easier to make out his features now that the two heroines were closer. He appeared to be Chinese, young, fairly handsome, with a shaved head and wearing a simple robe. Dyna Girl took half a step forward while Tinker addressed the man.
“Hey! What’s with the light show?”
“Begone,” the man said with a slight accent to his English. “I have no wish for confrontation.”
“Neither do we,” Tinker admitted, “but you’re alarming a number of people with this display. Look.”
The man turned from Tinker and glanced around. He saw three cars in a “fender bender” a block away on Sixth Avenue. On the sidewalks in every direction, people were either running away or into one of the numerous businesses that lined the streets. Tinker was relieved that it was getting late on a Friday night and most of the “after work” crowd had already left the International District, otherwise the panic would have been much worse.
“My work will be finished shortly. My seekers are harmless, no one will be hurt,” the man promised and turned away from Tinker and resumed his concentration.
“I know someone that’s going to get hurt,” Holly muttered quietly, but loud enough for Tinker to hear. Lucy shot a quick look at Dyna Girl, silencing her.
“Look, you said these are ‘seekers,’ right? If you tell us what you are seeking, maybe we can help you find it, and then you can stop worrying all these people,” Tinker suggested in a very rational tone. “What is it you’re looking for?”
With a sigh of annoyance, the man turned again to face the two heroines. “I study under a man of tremendous mystic power. As my final test, I have been challenged with choosing a gift for him. If this gift pleases him, I will become the heir to his formidable power.
“I have sensed an artifact, a source of ancient knowledge and power nearby. I intend to give this to my master as his gift,” the man concluded frankly.
“Um… I hate to bring this up buddy, but I don’t see any shops open at this time of night. So unless this ‘source of knowledge’ is a take-out fortune cookie, you’re gonna have come back tomorrow when the stores open,” Dyna Girl said, flexing her fingers in her gloves, anticipating action. “Time to pack it in for the night.”
Tinker shook her head slightly at her friend’s outburst and sighed. “Look, my friend here isn’t very subtle, but she is right. It’s probably best that we all just move on, mister… um… sorry I didn’t get your name.”
‘My name is Hsu Xian, but that is of no consequence. Once I am granted the power of my teacher, I will choose a more ‘professional’ name,” he paused to consider that eventuality. “I am partial to ‘The Mystifier,’ but I have not decided. In the meantime, you may refer to me as… The Sorcerer’s Apprentice!”
“The Sorcerer? As in ‘…The Sorcerer?’” Dyna Girl asked striking a pose and mimicking the way the old Forte adversary would refer to himself dramatically.
“Dyna Girl,” Tinker said in a cautionary tone.
Holly ignored her teammate. “Listen up ‘Sorcy Junior,’ I was on my way to a nice evening out with friends when you showed up. You should leave now, go back to your loser of a boss and focus on learning card tricks.”
“You should learn some respect,” Hsu Xian advised. He gestured his hands toward Dyna Girl, “Ylf otni eht llaw!”
Upon the magician’s mystical command, Dyna Girl was catapulted off her feet, across the intersection, and into a building behind her. The building’s brick fascia broke where she impacted and the heroine slipped to the ground amidst chunks of brick and mortar. She sat there for the moment, stunned and disbelieving.
Tinker was still within reach of The Sorcerer’s protégé and tried to sweep his feet out from under him. Hsu Xian was ready for the attack, however and raised his hand again. “Ria emoceb dilos!” Lucy’s arcing foot struck an invisible force about half-a-yard from the young mystic’s feet. Hsu Xian returned to his silent focus upon the ghostly dragons now scouring the International District for his prize.
Tinker regained her feet and popped the frictionless skate wheels from the bottom of her special boots. Once they locked into place, she sped across the street to check on Dyna Girl. Amid the dust and debris, the astonished heroine was getting up. Once Lucy arrived at her side, they took a moment to regard the conjurer and his power.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” Dyna Girl said, more embarrassed than injured. “You know, I should learn to keep my mouth shut.”
“Yeah. You should,” Tinker agreed. “But you won’t.”
“You’re probably right,” Holly admitted, smiling, as she dusted herself off. She immediately refocused on the mage. “What’s your call, boss?”
“He’s got some kind of shield around him. I can’t touch him. I’m pretty sure that he has to speak and gesture to use his power. That’s his weakness,” Tinker said with a glint in her eye. “If you can knock down his shield, I can take him out of commission.”
“Knocking stuff over I can do.” Dyna Girl assured her friend. “Besides, he’s better off learning now that a life of crime is not going to pay.”
Tinker looked at her friend as if she had just grown three heads. “Did you just say ‘he’s better off learning that a life of crime is not going to pay?”’
“Yeah.”
“Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m working on being more responsible and heroic and less mouthy. I told my dad I would. How did that sound?”
“Keep working at it,” Tinker said.
“That’s what I thought,” Dyna Girl said reluctantly before she shot off after Hsu Xian. Standing alone on the corner, Tinker skated off in their direction, making sure to keep a wide berth.
Racing toward the mage at her top flying speed, Dyna Girl cocked back a fist and whipped it forward as she was about to make contact with Hsu Xian. The youthful mage was surprised. He had assumed that Dyna Girl would either have been too injured, too dazed, or too afraid to confront him again after his first display of power. As a result, he was caught unprepared and had no time to prepare a counter-attack.
The blow sent Hsu Xian down the block, skipping across the pavement. Dyna Girl slowed her flight and landed several yards from the mystic. Even at night, she could see that he was unharmed and that his shield was holding. Soon the man was climbing to his feet and beginning a complex gesture.
He glanced over at the building next to him. On the bottom floor was the Ocean Garden restaurant whose entrance was guarded by two cast iron Chinese lions. Like the restaurant they stood watch over, the lions had seen better days. Age and vandalism had taken their toll in the form of wear, gashes, and in one instance, a fracture about the size and shape of a banana.
Hsu Xian diverted his attention first toward Dyna Girl, who was now lifting into the air for a second attack, and then Tinker, who was skating closer, but making sure to stay back a bit. He returned his focus to the statuary at the front of the restaurant. “Nori emoc ot efil!”
Instantly, the Chinese lions leapt off their pedestals and raced to the side of Hsu Xian. They were animated, but their appearance remained unchanged. Both still retained the flaws in their dark green metallic coats. From the ground to the tops of their heads, they only stood about three feet high. Both of the creatures looked to the wizard for orders.
“Attack,” Hsu Xian commanded with a gesture toward Tinker. Immediately, the pair raced off at remarkable speed after the gadgeteer.
“Dammit!” Holly swore as she altered her course, diverting from the magician, and flew off after the two lions.
Hsu Xian allowed himself a glance after his handiwork and then returned his attention to the dragon-like apparitions that were searching the surrounding blocks. Soon the spiritual forms were winding their way through Seattle’s International District seeking the prize their master sought.
Meanwhile, Tinker saw the two animated statues streaking toward her. Quickly, she took a mental inventory of the items she was carrying in her bandoliers and pockets. Caffeine Dart, Sneeze Bomb, Fire-Ant Spray, Itching Powder, Hiccup Spray? Cramp Spray? No. Leg-Lock… should hold one of them. Egg White? Worth a try. Clown Glove? Might as well see if the thing works.
Dashing down the street on her inline skates, Lucy gained a little distance on the approaching lions. She reached into her belt pouches and produced a skin-tight white glove and an Easter egg. After a moment to glance back over her shoulder to gauge the distance from her pursuers, Lucy spun around on her skates and hurled the Easter egg. It landed on the pavement in front of the oncoming iron beasts and cracked apart, splashing its slimy contents across their path.
As they hit the patch of Tinker’s “egg white” both of the lions lost footing and crashed to the ground. One of the mage’s creatures was caught in the dead center of the slick and flopped around as it tried to right itself. Unfortunately, the other one slipped clear of the puddle and was moments away from resuming its attack.
Tinker skated around the slick to the side opposite the beast that was still a threat. Maybe it’ll attack directly and get caught, she hoped. She waited for a moment and held her breath as the lion righted itself.
“Damn,” she swore silently. The iron monster began to circle around the slippery patch.
Tinker moved to keep the slick area between them, but the lion was much faster and maneuverable while moving in careful steps than she was on her skates. She knew correctly that as soon as she turned her back to dash off on her skates, the lion would be able to catch her and pounce before she could get up to speed. Pulling her leg-lock manacle from her bandolier, she gave it a quick shake and felt it snap into place from its collapsed position. If I can move fast enough, I can get two of its legs shackled…
Tinker didn’t have time to finish her thought before Dyna Girl swooped in and took the lion to the ground before it had a chance to close on its prey. For being made of iron, Holly found the creature surprisingly nimble. The beast struggled against the heroine’s grasp until it was able to clamp its jaws down on her bulletproof forearm. The grip was vise-like and began to press down on her tough skin to the point where Dyna Girl began to feel some discomfort. With one tremendous surge of strength, Holly pulled her arm free and reasserted her hold on the creature.
Swiftly, Lucy dashed over to the iron lion that was trapped in the puddle of her “egg white.” With all its thrashing about, the beast had slid its way over to one side and was in danger of working its way out of the slippery goo. She snapped the leg lock manacle onto the lion’s left fore and aft legs, rendering it unable to right itself. The beast began to flop around, trapped once again by Tinker’s inventions.
“You got another one of those?” Dyna Girl asked, referring to the leg lock. The magical creature strained against the heroine’s grasp and tried to get at Lucy.
“Yeah… back at the hanger,” Tinker admitted regretfully, seeing the creature’s desire to attack her. Something caught her eye and she turned from her friend and looked back up the street at the mage. She could see that his attention was focused on the two Forte heroines. He turned from them and looked once again over to the Ocean Garden restaurant.
Tinker followed his glance and saw what he was looking at, something the two heroines had missed before. Even from this distance, Lucy could see Hsu Xian begin another incantation. “Um, I hate to tell you this, DG, but we’re not going to make that open mic tonight.”
Craning her neck over her shoulder, Dyna Girl looked back to see what had caught Tinker’s eye. “Oh, come on!” she shouted in frustration.
High up on the wall of the Ocean Garden, two cast iron Chinese dragons were pulling themselves out of the brick and mortar. The statuary had been placed so that it appeared that the dragons were weaving themselves through the wall, as only the heads and some half sections of the long, serpentine bodies were visible to patrons and passersby on the street. As the two new mystic creatures emerged, they were still made up of only those iron pieces from the wall, however the mage’s mystic forces allowed them to move as if they were whole. They turned at Hsu Xian’s command and flew down the street toward the two women.
“Luce, you better call in the cavalry,” Dyna Girl suggested. “This joker will probably keep us here all night fighting lawn gnomes.”
“Thanks for that thought,” Tinker said sarcastically, trying to raise the others on her wristwatch communicator. “That’s just creepy.”
The dragons were getting closer to Tinker and Dyna Girl. The lion in her arms seemed to sense the approach of its brethren and began to fight against the hold more ferociously. “Tinker, we’re running out of time,” Holly noted.
“We’re on our own. It seems that Hsu Xian has some friends also trying to get prezzies for The Sorcerer,” Tinker explained. “Sorry, Dyna Girl.”
“Great. Well, I can’t hold this thing forever and you can’t fly to stop those dragons. Unless you have a jet pack in your purse,” Dyna Girl asked, half jokingly.
“It’s in my other purse. Sorry.” The dragons were almost close enough to strike. “DG, I have an idea. Let the lion go when I tell you to and head straight for Hsu Xian.”
“You sure?”
“Pretty sure,” Tinker admitted, skating back a few feet from Holly and the lion. Visions of angles, trajectories, points of impact and force whizzed through Lucy’s mind. She paused a moment and looked up the street. She saw the iron dragons snaking through the sky, and further up the street Hsu Xian’s ghostly hunters were beginning to regroup and follow one of the others. They found it.
“If this doesn’t work,” Tinker continued, “we head for the museum. Top speed. That’s where the other newbies are,” she told her friend, referring to Nightsable, Moonspider and Vortex, though none of them had been “newbies” for some time.
“Got it.”
“NOW!”
Dyna Girl released the lion from her grasp and true to form, it made straight for Lucy Toy. The Forte powerhouse waited a moment and watched while her friend prepared for the imminent attack. Tinker retracted her skate wheels and planted her feet firmly. As she cocked her fist back, the skintight “clown glove” ballooned up to an oversized, cartoonish shape. As the lion leapt, the gadgeteer threw her fist forward and caught the beast with an upward blow under its jaw. Despite the creature’s weight, the impact sent it hurtling down the street.
Expended, the “clown glove” deflated like a flatulent balloon. Tinker looked over to see her friend stunned by the sight and in danger of being charbroiled by the two iron dragons, moments away from attacking. “Dyna Girl! Go!”
The shout stirred Holly and immediately she shot down the street after the magician. The two flying creatures took after her. After a moment to check on the manacled lion and convinced that it was going nowhere, Tinker extended the blades of her skates back into place and dashed after her friend.
Hsu Xian’s mind merged with his seekers. He felt the emanations of power as the spiritual forms joined into a pack and converged on their objective. Yes. There it is. I shall present it to The Sorcerer. Then I shall tell him of the ease with which I dispatched those annoying superheroes. I will assuredly win his favor and his power.
The young mystic’s mind left his creations and he almost took a step to join them further down the street, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He glanced over with enough time to notice it was one of his iron lions dropping out of the sky.
“Dnal ylefas dniheb…”
The wizard was unable to finish his incantation before his creation impacted his protective aura and drove him into the pavement. Before he could shake off his stupor, Dyna Girl, flying just off the ground, rammed her shoulder into him and sent him further into the street. Hsu Xian was still conscious enough to see that his protective field was failing. He began to summon another shield when the iron dragons chasing the more maneuverable Dyna Girl flew at him and crashed into the last of his shield.
The Sorcerer’s Apprentice was barely conscious when Tinker came skating up to him. She pulled a small aerosol can from her bandolier and looked down at the helpless young man.
“Ria emoceb…” the man began to whisper. Tinker fired the contents of the can into the Hsu Xian’s face before he could finish. Sputtering, the wizard coughed the spray out of his chest and began his spell anew.
“Ria emoceb… HIC!” the spell was interrupted by a loud hiccup.
Tinker looked over as Dyna Girl cleaned up the last of the now immobile iron beasts. They had returned to their original inanimate state. Lucy decided to plop down cross-legged next to Hsu Xian and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. She had a smirk on her face as the man continued to try and cast spells through his fit of hiccups.
After a moment she looked up at her friend. Holly was having fun seeing Hsu Xian’s failed attempts almost as much as she got a kick out of watching Lucy enjoy the sight. “By the way, Dyna Girl, you owe me twenty dollars,” Lucy said with a broad grin.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Forte Museum
April 2, 2006
30 Minutes Earlier
Moonspider’s kick struck Ivy Russell in the face and staggered
her. The young demoness smiled at the silver-clad hero and spat blood.
The expression on her face was chilling, made even more so by her blood-stained
teeth. She looked at the heroes surrounding her,
“I’ve been nice from the start,
And you’ve been an obstruction.
So now I’ll rip out your heart,
And win the power of destruction.”
With a speed and strength that were deceiving given her size, the pale young woman seized Moonspider by the front of his costume and threw him at a wall-length display case. His back should have been broken in the impact and cut to pieces by the glass. Instead, Nightsable opened a teleportation portal in front of the glass. The terminus of the teleportation window was about six feet behind Ivy Russell. Seeing where he had been transported to, the British expatriate took advantage of the velocity with which he had been thrown at the glass cabinet. James Avalon twisted his body in mid-flight and extended his leg into a devastating kick aimed at the back of the goth woman’s skull.
Meanwhile, moving at the speed of thought, Vortex observed the entire scene as if it were slow motion. He watched the portal open in front of the display case and the other gateway open a fraction of a second later behind the young woman. He knew exactly what Nightsable had done; he had seen this dozens of times before in combat and in practice.
More swiftly than the eye could follow, the speedster dashed at the demoness. He had to adjust his speed numerous times while he calculated the exact moment of impact to coincide with his partner’s strike. Paul Seaborn, Vortex, watched his friend emerge from the window of amethyst energy and correct the angle and attitude of his body in mid-air. Moments passed like minutes for Vortex who raced at the woman in a blur of fantastic speed, and struck her jaw with a punch that moved at nearly the speed of sound.
The two blows landed at precisely the same moment: Moonspider’s kick to the base of Ivy Russell’s skull and Vortex’s velocity-powered haymaker to the chin. The demoness’ head snapped back hard with the impact and she was sent reeling to the floor. Vortex skidded across the highly polished museum floor and finally stopped a few yards away while Moonspider flipped through the air and landed softly on his feet, standing over the woman’s prone form.
Samantha Parker, Nightsable, came over and joined her teammates, who were watching their attacker for any signs of movement. She looked around the foyer and surveyed the damage, “What a mess.”
“Want to call Wally?” Vortex asked Samantha.
“Not really, but I should.” The blonde teleporter had no great desire to call their friend Wally Wood, the curator of the Forte Museum, and tell him about the mess. “He’s going to want to come down and survey the damage.”
“You know, it’s not that bad,” James Avalon said encouragingly with a quick glance around the room. “A few broken display cases. Looks most of the damage was done to that one,” he said with a nod to the front of the foyer.
Vortex left his friends watching the intruder while he walked over to the case that Moonspider had pointed out. “This one just contains mannequins of the team. Cinco, Doc, Phantasm, Vanguard. What was she doing when you popped in, Nightsable?”
“I’m not sure, really. She nearly clobbered me when I got here and that’s when I decided to call for help,” Samantha explained. “She was busy chasing after me when I finally ‘ported you two in.
“You know, this is going to sound weird,” the woman continued after a pause, “but it almost looked like she was taking the costumes off the dummies.”
“Kinky,” Avalon said in his muffled British accent from beneath his mask.
Paul Seaborn, formerly of the Gotham City Police Department, squatted down for a closer look at the life-sized figures scattered on the floor and then around the room at the other display cases. The glass fronts had all been smashed in, though the contents had not been disturbed. “It looks like she was planning on collecting the whole set.”
“I wonder why?” Nightsable asked aloud.
“And what’s it got to do with all that rot she was spouting earlier about the Sorcerer and some contest?” Moonspider said, never taking his eyes off the unconscious figure on the floor.
“I’ll call UNCLE and have them get a cell ready,” Vortex said, rising to his feet. “Sam, I’ll let you know where they want you to drop her.”
“In the meantime, I’ll call Wally and give him the bad news,” Samantha added with sincere disappointment on her face.
“And I’ll ring the others and see how they’re doing.” Moonspider triggered the communication device in his Forte wristwatch and began calling his teammates.
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Burke Museum of Natural History and Culture
University of Washington
April 2, 2006
20 Minutes Earlier
Rainier put his massive stone fist through another of the reanimated corpses. Each time he pulverized one into dust, more seemed to take its place. It wasn’t the endless tide of undead forms that disturbed Rainier so much. It was the fact that he was destroying pieces of history with every blow, an act that ran contrary to his nature as his alter ego, Davis Alexander, archeologist.
Moreover, their appearance suggested that the mystically animated forms seemed to be Native American in origin, apparently from a variety of Northwestern tribes. This revelation appalled the scientist more than anything, since these were a people he had developed a close kinship with. As Rainier, the embodiment of the ancient tribal spirit of Ta-Co-Bet, he was almost revered among the indigenous people of the Puget Sound area.
This trust had allowed him, an outsider, unparalleled access to the people and lore of these cultures. As an archeologist, it was an opportunity he had never dreamed possible, but as Ta-Co-Bet, he considered the relationship with these people as sacred. And now, as he destroyed wave after wave of these unholy creations, he was disgusted to think that he was betraying the people that he cared so much about.
Across the exhibit hall, the youth who had identified himself only as “Sebastian” stood back from the chaos caused by the battle between the boy’s supernatural army and the two heroes that opposed him: Rainier and Seahawk. The mystical stone form of Rainier crashed effortlessly through the legions of unliving tribal foes, while his partner and friend Seahawk clashed with the young shaman’s champion. The reanimated form of an enormous pre-Mayan warrior recently added to the museum’s collection stood between the armored hero and the boy who was commanding him.
“He’s quick,” Seahawk said, dodging the warrior’s sweeping blow and countering with one of his own. “For a dead guy, I mean.”
Rainier stood at the door with his back to Seahawk and barred the entrance, keeping the mystical forces from gaining access. “Well just remember, that ‘dead guy’ is something of a mystery to the research team that found him, and I know a certain archeologist that is looking forward to finding out a little more about him.” Alexander’s granite fist (regrettably) smashed another of the corpse army, scattering fragments of brittle bone, dried skin and tattered clothing across the floor. “Try not to damage him.”
Jared Banks, Seahawk, chuckled inwardly. “You’re smart enough to see the irony, right?” he asked his friend with a grunt as he delivered another shot to the ancient warrior’s side.
Ignoring the rhetorical question, Rainier threw a pair of attackers he had in his grasp into an oncoming group, sending all of them crashing to the floor. “See what you can do to speed this up a bit, Seahawk,” Davis suggested. “It seems that our guests are a little… um, fresher… than before.”
Jared risked a glance in his friend’s direction and saw that Rainier was correct. The corpses that were now storming the door were appeared to be less fragile and more contemporarily dressed than the nomadic tribesman that had assaulted them before. Seahawk was nowhere near the history expert that his teammate was. Even so, it was evident the skins and pelts of the previous attackers were being gradually replaced by shirts and slacks.
The boy Sebastian looked at Seahawk with malice and smiled. “My old friend Mulac is calling to all of our people. Those from a time nearer his own responded first. Now the younger ones are coming. Soon, even the living shall heed his call and will join him. As that army spreads, the call of Mulac will be heard through them and those further away will come. Then I shall present Mulac’s mighty force to the Great One as his gift. Surely he shall be pleased enough to grant me his power and then I shall finally complete my quest.”
“This is Mulac?!?” Rainier blurted.
“Who’s Mo-LAS?” Seahawk asked his friend aloud.
“In Mayan mythology there were four protective deities called the Bacabs, sons of Itzamna and Ixchel. They were supposed to be giants charged with holding up the sky at its cardinal points.”
“Well he’s certainly big enough to be considered a giant.” Jared Banks slammed his armored boot into the back of the Mulac’s knee, getting him off balance and causing him to stumble. Then he followed up with a blow to the back of the head.
“The problem is that the preliminary study done of the burial site and samples taken from the corpse pre-dates recorded Mayan civilization by hundreds of years. So if this is Mulac, then he must be the inspiration for the figure in Mayan mythology,” Alexander explained.
“That’s really interesting,” Seahawk said with a grunt as Mulac slammed his fist into his back. The hero’s reinforced suit absorbed much of the impact but the force of it still sent Banks skidding several yards face down across the polished floor.
“I don’t think you understand…”
Seahawk climbed to his feet. “No, you don’t understand. This guy isn’t feeling anything. And if the kid is telling the truth, you’re not going to be fighting crusty old corpses mush longer. The next batch will be a lot more recent. And then you’ll be fighting the living. Think about it Rainier!”
Davis Alexander knew exactly what the other man meant. He thought of Moondancer, the woman he loved who died fighting at his side, and of Jason Tulee, his best friend. Both were Native Americans, susceptible to Mulac’s call. He imagined for a moment what it would be like if he was forced to confront them. Then he forced the vision from his mind.
Rainier shoved back against the press of the undead forces fighting to gain access to Mulac. Once he had forced them back, he pulled a large case away from the wall, causing damage to the pottery and jewelry display inside. The case was placed in front of the doorway, and after a few moments Rainier was able to reinforce his barricade with other cabinets and heavy objects.
On the other side of the room, Seahawk was tiring out. His assault on Mulac had kept the reanimated giant occupied, but did not do anything to injure him. Realizing this, the only thing that the ex-cop could do was try to evade the huge warrior.
“MOVE!” Rainier shouted loudly and ferociously.
Seahawk could hear the anger in his friend’s voice. With the touch of a control sequence in his armored glove, his suit’s flight system fired. He launched himself backward, away from Mulac and over the fury of the charging Rainier.
The action caught the giant warrior by surprise. A moment ago, he was about to crush the man in the green and grey armor. Now he faced a form of living rock and magma rushing toward him.
With a thunderous blow, Rainier sent the ancient giant hurtling across the length of the room. The scientist in him immediately regretted the act. Across the room he saw the unmoving form of Mulac doubled over, sheared nearly in half by its collision with sizable glass display wall across the hall.
“I’m sure he felt that,” Seahawk said from behind his friend, catching his breath. Rainier turned to look at the other man. Even through his stony form, Jared could see the disappointment in the scientist’s face. Putting his armored hand on Rainier’s shoulder, he suggested gently, “Let’s talk to the kid.”
The boy Sebastian had a look of horror on his face as the two heroes approached. He let out a shrill cry and collapsed to the floor and pulled his knees up against his chest. Sobbing, he buried his face in his knees so he wouldn’t have to look at the two men.
“Please don’t hurt me,” the boy cried in his accented English.
The father in Seahawk materialized at the sight of the terrified boy. He saw that the child was not much younger than his own son. “No one is going to hurt you,” he said in a soothing voice.
“That… that monster… it made me serve him,” the child said through his tears. “It had no voice. It needed me to speak for it.”
Rainier approached Seahawk’s side and listened, all the while keeping an eye on the broken corpse that was Mulac. Seahawk knelt a few feet away from Sebastian. “What do you remember? Do you know what Mulac wanted?” he asked in that same soothing voice.
“Mo… Mo Las? Was that his name? Señor, I don’t remember a thing.” The boy kept his face buried in his knees, still pulled up against him.
Rainier adopted a similar tone to his friend’s. “Are you sure you can’t remember a thing? It could be very important. Please try.”
Sebastian began to sob again. Through blubbering tears and heaving breaths, the boy replied, “Great Ta-Co-Bet, I cannot remember. I am frightened. Please take me from here.”
“Where do you live, son?” Seahawk asked kindly. “Who do you want us to call?”
“I’d suggest calling Dane Casey over at UNCLE,” Davis Alexander interjected quickly. “I’m sure he can get a nice cell all warmed up for him.”
Seahawk stood up and faced his friend. “What’s the matter with you? We can’t leave this poor boy in a cell all night. We can certainly find a better place for him than UNCLE.”
Rainier glared through molten eyes at the boy. “If he can’t remember a thing, why did he just call me Ta-Co-Bet? And that accent of his? It’s not Spanish. It sounds to me like an early Mayan dialect.”
Seahawk, stunned, looked back down at the boy. The tearful face had been replaced by a look of smug disdain. Sebastian said nothing, but the conceited look he gave the two heroes betrayed his youthful appearance.
The stony giant pushed past Seahawk and grabbed the boy. With one mammoth hand he lifted and pinned Sebastian against the wall. “You have absolutely NO IDEA what you made me do back there! ME!” Fire blazed in Rainier’s magma-like eyes and tiny bits of lava shot out of his mouth like spittle.
The look of arrogance was gone, replaced by genuine terror on the young conjurer’s face. He looked to Seahawk for aid, but the armored hero was too shocked to act. He turned to Rainier for pity, but there was none to be found in those fiery eyes.
“HOW DARE YOU force me to violate the trust of those people!” Rainier’s grip began to tighten around Sebastian’s chest. The stony crust of his skin pressed him, making it tough for the boy to breathe, “Take a good look at Mulac! That’s a PICNIC compared to what I’ll do to you!”
Sebastian turned to look at his champion, nearly torn in half by the furious power of Ta-Co-Bet, the spirit of Mount Rainier. Then looked back at the wrath and might that held him. For the first time in his many centuries, the ancient wizard trapped forever in the body of a twelve-year-old feared for his life. Once again, Sebastian broke down and cried, but this time the emotion was real.
“You have one chance to talk,” Rainier said in his low, gravelly rumble, pressed close to the wizard’s ear. “Make it quick and convincing, or I will make you wish you had never heard the name Ta-Co-Bet.”
And Sebastian talked…
-------------------------------------------------------------
Disgusted with what he had seen, The Sorcerer dissipated the three shimmering globes that hung in the air before him. Through these portals, The Sorcerer observed the efforts and defeats of each of his pupils. He took another sip of his wine and let out a sigh. What a waste of two years.
He allowed himself one last look around the great lodge. He would miss the solitude and rustic character of this old place. But he realized that one of the three, probably Sebastian, would betray his location. Prison was not the retirement he had planned.
With the wave of his scepter and a prepared word of casting, he closed down the old lodge, removed his belongings and extinguished the fire that was blazing in the old brick hearth.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Forte Museum
Seattle, WA
April 3, 2006
9:30 AM
“Okay, I’ll open a portal for you,” Nightsable said into her radio watch. With a gesture a large violet disc shimmered across the room. Almost immediately, Dyna Girl walked through the aperture carrying crates containing large sheets of reinforced glass.
“Where do you want these?” Dyna Girl asked Tinker, who had taken charge of the repair crew.
“Let’s start with the front displays. I’ll get the maintenance guys to help you.”
After paying a quick visit to the suspected hideout of The Sorcerer and coming up empty-handed, the heroes had been assisting with the cleanup efforts since the previous night. They had already gotten the buildings in the International District and the Burke Museum straightened up. Now only the Forte Museum remained.
The heroes and the museum curator, Electro Man, had been hoping to have the place cleaned up and ready to open on time. Unfortunately, the Forte Museum would have to remain closed for the day as the search for The Sorcerer and repair efforts took much longer than expected.
“Any word from Rainier?” Vortex asked, scooping the last of the broken glass into a trashcan.
“He’s with the tribal elders,” Nightsable replied. Her voice seemed to hang in the air as an unexpected hush fell across the room. “They spent the night reclaiming bodies and preparing them for interment. There are a number of ceremonies tonight that he’s been asked to attend.”
“Where’s Seahawk and Moonspider?” Dyna Girl asked after a few moments. She placed the crates gently on the floor and opened them for the museum’s maintenance crew waiting to install the glass. The heroine pulled a large pane out of the crate and held it in place while the workers installed the hardware.
“There was supposed to be a children’s physical fitness workshop here today,” Vortex answered. “Wally didn’t want to cancel the event so he swung a deal with the Seattle Center and they relocated it to McCaw Hall. Since they don’t have all the interactive exhibits there, Seahawk and Moonspider volunteered to work with the kids.”
Unseen by the heroes or the work team, a door opened and closed silently across the entry hall. Having rendered himself invisible, The Sorcerer slipped through the door and watched the people working around the grand, marbled foyer. After a few moments, he walked quietly toward the administration offices.
He heard Dyna Girl ask Tinker a question about a glove. “… based on the tractor-repulsor technology you brought back from The Realm…” he heard the other woman say before he was out of earshot. He turned the corner and entered a carpeted hallway heading for the curator’s office.
The door to the outer office was open and a longhaired brunette sat behind a desk in the reception area. The Sorcerer waited as she finished her telephone call and hung up before he materialized before her. For a moment she was startled, but quickly Stacy McCone gathered herself and reached for the alert signal on her wrist radio, a gift given to her a while back by the original Forte team. Before she could activate it however, The Sorcerer gestured briefly and the woman was entranced, unable to move. The middle-aged villain raised his finger to his lips, “Shhhh. I’ll only be a moment. Go about your business and don’t worry about me.”
“Okay,” Stacy said with a dazed smile.
“Oh, and one other thing, please see that Mr. Wood and I are not disturbed.” The Sorcerer did not wait for a reply, knowing that the woman would adhere to his instruction. He strolled casually into the curator’s office and closed the door behind him.
Wally Wood had his back turned to the door. He was busy pecking away on his computer’s keyboard when he heard the door close behind him. He turned with a smile on his face expecting his assistant Stacy or one of the Forte team that was busy getting the museum back into shape. When he saw the graying man in the Dockers and sport coat he was puzzled, knowing he had seen this man before.
It took him a moment, but soon a look of recognition crossed his face. He instinctively reached for his special watch, a male version of the one his assistant and the rest of the Forte team wore. His hand was immediately repelled by an unseen force, shocking him mildly. It would not allow him to touch the watch.
Realizing he could not call for the help that was only a few yards away, the large Texan stood up and faced the intruder. “What do you want, Sorcerer?”
The man sat down in one of chairs that were across the desk from the former hero. “You recognize me? Good. Then I have no need to demonstrate my power.” The mystic set his wand of power on the desk.
“I want to talk to you. Ten minutes is all I ask. Your lovely assistant will see that we are not disturbed.”
“What did you do to her?” Wally asked with anger in his voice.
“She’s fine. I simply suggested to her that she should make sure that we are not interrupted,” The Sorcerer assured the other man. “Please sit down. Ten minutes. Then you may call in whomever you like. You have my word.”
Wally Wood sat reluctantly. “You have ten minutes.”
-------------------------------------------------------------
“… so you must understand, I never intended for this to happen,” The Sorcerer explained. “The test was to see what they would do with the power should they be granted it.
“Hsu Xian attempted to obtain a token of power as a gift. Why should I want power if I am intending to give my power away? He is obsessed with power, believing that power is a means to obtain more power.”
“And the girl? Why did she attack my museum?” Electro Man asked.
“She believed that I should have revenge.”
“How does vandalizing the museum give you revenge?”
“Her goal was far more sinister, I’m afraid. She attempted to steal the costumes in order to fashion fetishes from them. With the proper enchantments, those talismans could have been made to control… or kill… the person that they had been formed to represent.”
Wally shook his head in disbelief. “She wanted to make voodoo dolls out of them?”
“In a sense, yes,” The Sorcerer responded. His slight smile was charming and the disappointment in his eyes was genuine. “Poor Ivy. She grew up hating everyone. With my power, she simply would have hurt people for the sake of hurting them. She would have exacted revenge from everyone for the misery in her own life.
“But, I have no need for revenge on any of you. I won a few times and lost a few times. It was always such a grand game.”
“And what about the boy, Sebastian? What did he want to accomplish? Rainier says that he believes that he’s much older than he looks?”
“I’m sure Rainier is right,” The Sorcerer said leaning back in his chair. “I don’t know how old he is, but I believe him to be from some antediluvian civilization. He was most certainly a conjurer of some power to have lived this long.
“I think he wished to present me an army of followers to serve me. To be an army that I could command,” The Sorcerer confessed. “But, like the others, he didn’t understand that I have no need of armies or servants… except perhaps to bring me a nice Chateaubriand on occasion.
“A spectacular disappointment, one and all. Which brings me to my visit…”
“I was wondering why you came here,” the curator admitted.
“I want to retire. I don’t want to be hunted and pursued, and I don’t want to be held responsible for the catastrophes of last night. Let those who committed the crimes be punished, particularly Sebastian. His actions were abhorrent!
“Ask any of the old team,” the magician pleaded, “I never would have been involved with such disgusting behavior.”
“And you want me to see that all your trouble goes away?” Electro Man said, raising his voice in incredulity. “You want me to square things with the authorities and with Forte so that you can go live off your ill-gotten gains in comfort and security?
“Graves were disturbed, Sorcerer! An entire community of people had a sacred heritage defiled by one of your students and you expect a pass?!? I’m afraid that saying ‘that’s not what I meant’ isn’t enough to make me go to bat for you!”
“Then let me make restitution. I’ll start with this,” The Sorcerer pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket and handed it over to Electro Man. “Inside is a cashier’s check. It is made out to the Forte Foundation. There is more than enough there to pay for any necessary repairs. Moreover, the majority of the money should be distributed to the tribal communities to use how they see fit…”
“Money isn’t going to buy your way out of this mess, Sorcerer,” the former hero interrupted.
“Which brings me to the second part of my offer.” He handed Electro Man the wand sitting on the desk. “I’m giving this to you for safe keeping. After all, I’m retired. What do I need it for?
“I want you to find my successor. Well, you and your associates, I mean. Find someone that is worthy of this power. I’m convinced that you can do a better job of it than I did.”
The wand felt alive in Wally Wood’s hand. “Supposing someone is found, how will they learn to use it?”
The Sorcerer smiled his charming smile. “When you’ve found the right person, simply hold the headpiece of the wand and speak my name three times. I will be summoned to you and I will bequeath all of my knowledge to the successor.
Wally Wood pondered for a moment. Finally with an exhale, he said, “All right, Sorcerer. You have a deal. I can’t promise anything, but I will speak to the authorities on your behalf.” He put the powerful scepter away in his desk.
“Thank you,” the other man replied with sincerity. Standing up he added, “Oh! I almost forgot. Another contribution for your Foundation. This is one I think you will appreciate.” He handed over another envelope, a heavy one thick with folded papers.
“Farewell, Electro Man. You have the apologies and gratitude of… The Sorcerer!”
With a flourish, the magician disappeared in a puff of smoke and a low boom. Wally returned to his desk. He had a lot of explanations make and favors to call in, but first he needed to make a call to San Francisco. When Stephen Strange came to the phone, he asked his friend, “What’s the best way to guard a magic wand?”
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The Sea View Hotel
Miami Beach, Florida
April 6, 2006
“Will you be staying with us long mister…?” the woman behind the gilt mahogany reception desk asked.
“Mandrake. Merlin Mandrake,” the man offered as he signed the guest register. “For a week, I think. I’m buying a summer home in Key West and it’s not quite ready.”
“That’s wonderful!” Cassidy, the young woman behind the counter heard ‘buying in Key West’ and the sound of a cash register went off in her head. She sized the man up. Mid-forties, probably divorced, casually but well dressed. He’ll tip pretty well, she thought. “Here is your key, Mister Mandrake. I’ll ring the bellman to assist you with your bags. We hope you enjoy your stay, at the Sea View.”
“Thank you Cassidy. I’m looking forward to it.” The man calling himself Merlin Mandrake waited and read his paper while the young lady alerted the bell desk. A small article caught his eye:
“Superhero Summer Camp to Open 2007”
Seattle P-I Wire Service
SEATTLE
Wally Wood, Curator of the Forte Museum, announced today that the Forte
Foundation has acquired a campground with the intention of starting
a summer camp for troubled, challenged, and underprivileged youth. Located
on the Olympic Peninsula across the Puget Sound from Seattle, the former
Whispering Pines Campground will be renamed “Camp Forte”
and will hold its inaugural season beginning in June of 2007.
Given to the Foundation as an anonymous gift, Camp Forte hopes to serve
over 300 children each summer…
END.
