I hate t’fly…
I may ‘ave mentioned that a time or two, but I can’t seem t’ get the point
across t’ certain people. Seems every bird inna skirt though flashes a bit a pin
n’ I come runnin’, don’t matter where I have t’ go. I go t’ Heathrow, down a few
before, during n’ after and eventually get there none the worse for wear though
maybe a few sheets t’ the wind.
Heh…
That’s what you get for a few guineas.
I’m not like Fate n’ the big dark bloke. I imagine they wave their ‘ands n’
poof, they’re right where they ought’a be. Me, I’m more down t’ earth n’
wholesome sort. I do things the ‘ard way. Not by choice you understand, jus’ the
way it works. You want the fireworks n’ the grand displays of mystical
omnipotence you ring up the good Doctor.
You want the sneaky shit, somebody t’ get down n’ dirty you call me…
 |
Shattered: Part 3 |
| Hellblazer: Special December, Year 2 | by Curt Fernlund |
I’ve often wondered why I keep a telephone. Seems the only time it ever rings
is when I don’t want it to. Middle a’ the night, when I’m in the loo, jus’
walking out the door, it never fails. Folks ask me sometimes why I don’t get a
cellular? “Make it easier t’ get hold of you,” they says. “That’s the bloody
point,” I reply. I don’t want t’ be got hold of ya daft…
Picture me with a cellular though. I’d rather have a license so’s I could walk
down the street and slap the phones out of the ‘ands of the bloody idiots
blocking the walk. Seems that little piece a crap that everyone’s so hung on
sucks out their brains when they attach it t’ their ears. Makes ‘em stagger when
they walk, n’ their elbows become lethal weapons flyin’ out at all angles. Never
seen the like by ‘alf. If I didn’t know better I’d say it was a plot by one a’
the three…
Heh…
Right, like they ‘ave the collected brains t’ come up with that. Luthor maybe…
The point bein’ I suppose, I got this phone right by me bed. It’s one of those
big, black bulky things that Brit Tel gives you when they string the line.
Bloody thing jus’ sits there gathering dust on me nightstand until I finally get
t’ sleep then it screams like a fuckin’ monkey with its tail caught in the door
until I pick up. I been tempted a time or two jus’ t’ heave the bastard through
the window, but for some reason I usually jus’ answer. Grin n’ bear it that’s me
motto.
‘Sides, don’t want the bloody Phone Police on me arse.
So there I was jus’ a few hours ago well on me way t’ Nod when ‘course the
bloody beast howls. I would’ve let it ring as I got me a load a’ patience when
it comes t’ ignoring things, but apparently whoever was on the other end was
jus’ as stubborn as I am. After twelve rings I finally surrendered n’ picked the
bloody thing up.
It was Zatanna…
She was in a right mood I could tell, n’ I was still ‘alf asleep so I didn’t get
the whole story, but seems there was some shite dropping down on one of ‘er
friends in that little social club she belongs to- the JLA. Bunch a ponces n’
posers the lot of ‘em, but they do the job for the most part, n’ Zee’s a friend…
A good friend if you know what I mean…
I listened, tryin’ me best t’ come awake as she was babblin’ four months a
minute. I got the gist, but truth t’ tell I really wasn’t in the mood for a hop
‘cross the pond no matter how good she looks in ‘er fishnets. I’d jus’ come down
offa me own shite pile, dealing with the bloody Vampyr Nation n’ some small bit
a’ nastiness with a bird name of April May if you can believe that. I was about
t’ tell Zee no when she plays ‘er Trump-
She mentioned Calcutta, dammit…
I lean on the buzzer ‘cause Zee said there’d be someone there. The sun’s up,
but it’s still early, so I give ‘em- whoever it is- a bit a’ grace.
The JLI Embassy in London’s been shut down for awhile now. Another grand n’
glorious scheme that went with the way of the unified Europe n’ the Concorde.
The building’s in good shape yet, n’ a location t’ die for jus’ a few blocks
from Parliament. Jus’ a quick walk for me as well, which I appreciate. I keep
pushing the buzzer though, as the help leaves a bit t’ be desired.
Finally the door opens n’ I’m staring at a bit of empty hall, dark n’ dusty-
“Who’re you?” I hear, a gruff voice, deep n’ scratchy billowing up on a cloud a’
blue smoke n’ a stench of imported Cuban tobacco. I look down, following the
smoke.
There’s an ugly little Dwarf holding onto the doorknob like it’s the only thing
keeping ‘im on ‘is feet. He barely comes up t’ me navel, n’ he looks t’ be sixty
goin’ on a hundred with ‘is bald pate and white ‘air sticking out t’ the four
corners. He’s chewing on a ragged butt a’ cigar, n’ ‘is eyes are rimmed red like
he’s been hittin’ the ‘ard stuff for a bit. Not one t’ cast judgment, I don’t
care. To each ‘is own-
“Name’s Constantine,” I says n’ the little tosser grunts givin’ me the eye.
“Yeah,” he grumbles, turning away and waddling down the hallway towards the back
a’ the building. “Shut the door,” he grunts, flicking on the lights as he
passes. I sniff n’ do like he says since he asked so nicely. I follow-
“Zatanna-“
“Yeah, she called,” the Dwarf shouts from another room. “No sense a’ time.
Thinks the sun shines outta their asses sometimes. Damn He-roes, who needs ‘em?”
I was starting to warm up t’ me host when I join ‘im in the room he’d
disappeared into. It was impressive I’ll say, all bright lights n’ shiny metals.
Not a clue ‘ere what any of it was for, but the little bloke seemed right at
‘ome so I let ‘im do what he ‘ad t’ do whilst I lit me fag n’ watched. He turns
some dials n’ pulls some levers then gives me a queer little sneer like he’d
jus’ stepped in something foul. I shrug-
“No smokin’ in the tube,” he growls so I stab me butt out on me sole n’ put the
rest a’ the fag back in the pack. I look at the ‘tube’ n’ suddenly wish I’d
flown. It was a glass thing, tall n’ shining like the rest a’ the room, but
still it looked none too appealing. Sort of like a big salt sifter, n’ I was
supposed t’ get in and ‘ave me atoms scattered across Creation. Right…
“You sure that’s safe?”
The Dwarf smirks, chuckles as he grabs a half-full bottle of Dewar's White off a
table. He takes a long swig then ‘ands the bottle t’ me. I follow suit-
“It’s safe, Boy’o. Lot safer n’ ridin’ the Tube this time o’ night.” He ‘olds
out ‘is grubby little ‘and n’ I give ‘im back ‘is bottle. He takes another
swallow then looks at a dial on ‘is machine, gives it an ‘ard rap. “Yuir ready,
son.”
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
I step on up onto the platform, then into the sifter. The Dwarf closes the door
behind me, an evil gleam in ‘is bloodshot eyes as he locks me in n’ steps back
down t’ the machines-
“Don’t hold yer breath,” he says, cranking on some lever that’s longer than he
is tall. “It ain’t gonna hurt- much- but you’ll probably toss yer chips if yer
not used to the ride. Takes a few,” he says, still twisting knobs and pushing
buttons. Lights start t’ flicker above me n’ the floor of the tube starts t’ hum
n’ vibrate. I can barely see the Dwarf for the glare-
“Wait,” I say, but by then it’s too late. I’m someplace else…
Most big cities have a feel about ‘em, a smell. I been around the world a
time or two, ‘n in my line of work you tend t’ notice the little things like
that.
Tokyo smells a’ burnt neon and car exhaust. Calcutta smells of disease n’ Delhi
of the unwashed- n’ cows. Rio’s sex pure n’ simple. Me own London has an old n’
tired scent, like all the power in the world jus’ sort a’ settled in for a long
nap. New York, well Manhattan at least, she smells a’ money.
I know I’m in Manhattan even before I pull me face outta the gypsum n’ struggle
back t’ me feet. The Dwarf was right n’ the act of spewin’ me body ‘alfway cross
the planet didn’t do a thing for me head or me insides. I staggered right off
the platform- this little metal disk nailed t’ the rooftop- and proceed t’ lose
not only me mornin’ coffee, but whatever that greasy quat was I’d had the night
before. I spent the better part a’ ten minutes on me knees emptying me stomach
on Zee’s rooftop before I could even think about tryin’ t’ stand n’ get me head
screwed back on straight.
Being a glutton for punishment though, I shambled over t’ the building’s edge n’
lit me a fag, drawin’ deep a’ the Silk Cut whilst I took a quick scrutiny of me
surroundings. I winced into the soft glow, the first faint trace a’ false dawn
just lighting the sky t’ the east. There were taller buildings- skyscrapers all
around. I saw a few that I recognized from other trips across the pond, n’ once
me head finally stopped spinnin’ I figured that I was definitely in New York, n’
more precisely Greenwich Village.
I hacked a bit, coughing and spitting as I made me way towards the stairwell
that would take me into the belly of the beast, such as it was. Last I’d heard,
Zee had been staying with one of her super-git friends; the Green Torch or
Captain Fleet Foot, one a’ them. Zatanna had a bit of cash I knew- her Da was no
fool, not by ‘alf- n’ I knew she had a permanent house in San Francisco. She had
apartments around the world too, though she’d never admit it. To hear ‘er tell
it she was dirt poor and ‘er father ‘ad t’ get up three hours before he went t’
bed jus’ t’ makes ends meet.
You gotta love ‘er…
Why she would want t’ stay with one of her super friends I haven’t a clue. This
place though was one of ‘ers I think. Didn’t feel of super anything. Course the
door was locked-
I rattled the door latch n’ sighed, a big blue cloud a’ smoke billowing around
me like a dark cloud a’ bad luck. You’d think Zee would’ve unlocked the roof
hatch for me, right. But no, John’s resourceful, he’ll deal with it-
Yeah, well, ain’t no magician worth ‘is weight what goes out without a simple
‘Knock’ spell in ‘is bag a’ tricks. I dunno what I’m doing ‘ere though, n’ you’d
think that Zee would want me saving me spells no matter-
N’ no matter. I take a drag off me fag n’ concentrate jus’ a bit, tryin’ t’
remember the Word I need…
Aperire!
I hear a snap of metal and the heavy metal fire door slowly swings open on
squealing rusty hinges. The inner lock was shattered by me spell, tough luck for
the building’s custodian. Zee should ‘ave thought ahead.
It took me the better part of five minutes t’ make me way down into the building
n’ find Zee’s flat. It was on the second story I recalled after knockin’ on a
few doors n’ getting’ the bum’s rush from not a few of the neighbors. I was on
me third Silk by then, n’ I ‘ad ‘alf a mind t’ use another spell t’ jus’ open
the door. I played nice though, I knocked.
There was a bit a’ slammin’ about n’ runnin’ on the far side a’ the door. I
stepped back a bit so’s I was visible in the spy hole, n’ after a couple minutes
I finally ‘eard the locks opening up on the other side. It being New York it
took awhile-
“John!”
Zee almost fell out the doorway as soon as she got the bloody thing open n’ then
right into me arms. She wrapped ‘er arms about me neck, ‘ugging me like we were
best, long lost mates instead of what we were. What that was I wasn’t really
sure, ‘course. Zatanna n’ I ‘ad been through not a few scrapes in our day, n’
not the least a’ which was when I- inadvertently mind- killed ‘er father. It was
for the fate a’ the world, the destiny of mankind n’ all that, but still…
Lot of good people died that day, n’ Zatara was not the least, but one a’ the
best.
I hugged ‘er back, n’ I could tell she’d been crying so I hugged a bit tighter.
No matter what we been through, Zee’s been a friend true n’ through, n’ I’d move
the world for her if I had to.
Finally she let loose ‘er strangle ‘old on me neck n’ I ‘eld ‘er at arm’s
length. I gave ‘er a look. Her eyes were rimmed red, n’ it looked like she
hadn’t slept in days with the bags she was carrying, but even still, the woman
was shattering. With ‘er long black hair n’ that body, those legs, well there
was barely anyone could ‘old a candle to our Zatanna. If you’ve ever caught ‘er
stage act you’d know what I mean. Nobody fills out a pair a’ fishnets like
Zatanna the Great! Even dressed in her skimpy silk Kimono and high-heeled mule
slippers her hair a tangled mess she was a sight t’ kill for…
And I had…
“Oh John,” she said, pulling me into ‘er flat and locking the door behind us. I
could ‘ear the catch in ‘er voice n’ didn’t want t’ push so I stood me ground
like an idiot while she scampered about doing those things birds think they ‘ave
t’ do when they gets company. She ‘ad a nice flat, though it was a bit sparse by
way of furnishings. There was a chair or two, a futon in one corner n’ a few
posters from past shows on the walls. I figured the place was either hardly used
or maybe new, not that it mattered either way.
She was babbling, but I pretty much ignored it at first. I knew Zee, n’ I knew
it’d be a minute or two ‘fore she found ‘er center again and started sounding
sane. Right now she was talking high n' fast, n’ I knew better n’ to make ‘eads
or tails till she burnt out a bit. I took a seat, chained another fag. I ‘ad a
feeling it was going t’ be a long night…
***
“It’s Dinah,” she finally said, like that cleared anything up. I knew a couple
Dinah’s. One ran a social club up in Quebec. The other was a bitch, but a lay n’
a ‘alf-
“The Black Canary…”
“Oy, right! I’m out,” I says, getting t’ me feet. It was super shit, n’ I wanted
no part a’ that. I’d ‘ad more n’ me fill of the super set in the Crisis n’ that
bit with the Big Green Kahuna not long after. “Call Fate luv, or the dark bloke.
They’re both on your payroll anyway. Maybe Corrigan-“
“John!” Zee shouted as I headed for the door. Her voice was almost ready t’
crack, n’ I cursed meself for bein’ the pushover that I was. I sagged, me ‘and
on the knob. If I’d jus’ turned the bloody thing…
“All right, Zee,” I says, shambling back t’ me chair with me tail between me
legs. I’m whipped I tell ya. “What, what is it?”
It took ‘er a bit t’ get t’ the juicy bits, but for all you what came in late…
It took ‘er all of ten minutes t’ actually tell ‘er story, but that ten
turned into right thirty with the sniffles n’ waterworks. Seems one of ‘er mates
in that Justice Legion thing got right knockered recent, ‘least that’s ‘ow it
‘peared t’ me. The Black Canary she says- Dinah Laurel Lance- one a’ her oldest
friends been actin’ a might queer of late. Zee said it was little things at
first, wee things that you might barely notice, but gradually it got worse n’
worse. Her temper was flaring, n’ she was usin’ excessive force, a no-no for
their ilk. She was getting slutty too, a right whore like attitude, apparently
falling into bed with every Tom, Dick n’ Jack. The League noticed it a’ course,
but bein’ what they are gave ‘er ‘er space, hoping they wouldn’t have t’ deal
with it I imagine. She put the serious beat down on a couple second class thugs,
put ‘em in the hospital. She started talkin’ like a Docker-
“She was starting to smell, J’onn said,” Zee told me as she walked me back to
the bedroom. “Like she just didn’t care anymore. It all came to a head just last
night when J’onn confronted her with Captain Marvel and Oracle.”
I was chaining another fag t’ life as I followed Zee down the hall, tryin’ me
best not t’ get caught looking where I shouldn’t be looking, trying hard t’
listen-
“She quit the League, John!” Zee was close t’ tears again as she paused outside
the bedroom door. “She loves the League, tried so hard to get back in and make
the grade with this new group. She was trying something with Oracle too I think.
Anything she could, since Ollie…”
“Ollie?” I asked, but I figured who that was. I read the tabloids once in
awhile, n’ the League- all the Metas are news. Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow,
him n’ the Canary were an item for years. He died not too long ago- blew up in a
plane so I hear. I imagine the bird took it ‘ard.
“She cursed out J’onn and told them all to- fuck off! She ran from them!”
Well, if I thought maybe Zee was just being hysterical before I knew that she
wasn’t now. Zatanna don’t curse- at least not that way- n’ her Da must be
spinnin’ in ‘is grave t’ hear that little bit. Something was seriously wrong-
“They said she was talking to herself, talking to people who weren’t there. Like
the Homeless, John. Like the people you pass in the street; smelly and ragged
and insane.”
“So, why call me?” I had t’ ask. Seemed t’ me that the stress of losin’ the love
of ‘er life, and whatever else was going wrong in ‘er life jus’ pushed ‘er over
the edge. You see it. It ‘appens every day. The pressure finally gets t’ the
Wall Street Broker. Some poor bloke gets burned out’ve ‘is ‘ome n’ can’t quite
get back on ‘is feet. Folks cash in bottles for return, takin’ a nickel or dime
where they can get it, start beggin’ at the tube. Little by little they lose
their possessions, start sleepin’ on the streets, pulling carts around the city
n’ jus’ talkin’. See it every day, poor sods.
“There’s more, John, but you’ll have to see for yourself.” She gimme me a look,
those big brown eyes brimming with tears n’ lookin’ up, imploring me. I didn’t
‘ave the ‘eart t’ say no. I nodded, motioning ‘er t’ open the door-
The room was dark and smelled of old wood n’ incense. There was odd shit on the
walls, hangings and plaques, a mirror. The bedroom was obviously better
furnished than the rest of the flat- not that it mattered. Soon as I stepped in
n’ me eyes focused me attention went right t’ the big king-sized bed n’ the
woman on it.
She was lying on top of the comforter, sort of tangled in that n’ the sheets.
She was washed in a sheen of sweat though it was cool in the room with the air
conditioner on blowing in the window. She was naked ‘cept for her black satin
panties, n’ I could see that she’d been wallowing around in ‘er sleep- still was
by the looks. Her lips were moving, mumbling as she tossed n’ turned though Zee
had limited the bird’s movements with a Binding Spell. The metal frame of the
headboard was morphed all out of shape, several of the struts wrapped about the
woman’s wrists t’ ‘old ‘er in place. I could see right off why they called ‘er
the ‘World’s Most Beautiful Crimefighter’…
Cor, she was that, not by ‘alf…
“Blimey, Zee,” I said in me best Cockney, “I know some geeks on the Internet
would pay top dollar for this, especially if you put on your fishnets n’-“
I winced as Zatanna hauled off n’ knuckled me in the shoulder. Bloody ‘ell but
she can ‘it!
I was joking ‘course, jus’ trying to lighten the mood a bit- n’ Zee knew that-
but still-
Cor, what a body on that one!
“I cleaned her up as best I could,” Zee said walking to the side of the bed and
draping the covers over her friend. “She was filthy when she got here, and
soaked to the bone from the storm last night. I bathed her, mended her clothes,
used a minor heal on her cuts and scrapes and bruised ribs. She was a mess John,
and she didn’t seem to care.
“I had to put her to sleep to, she was almost hysterical at times, and violent.
She keeps breaking the spell John, coming out of it!”
That was queer. “No magic, right?”
“No more than any other mundane. Just enough of a spark so she can appreciate
magic, see it, but not enough to utilize. It scared me, John. She broke the
spell twice-“
And as if on cue, the Black Canary started rolling around n’ strugglin’ in ‘er
sleep. She was mumbling, talking to ‘erself, n’ ‘er eyes suddenly popped open
all red n’ wild. She stared right at me, started screamin’-
“No! Get out! No!” she shouted as Zee tried to ‘old ‘er down. Despite that ‘er
wrists were bound at the bedframe she was still thrashin’ about like a wild
woman. I stepped up, a spell already dancin’ on the tip of me tongue-
“!peelS”
Zatanna said one of ‘er backward bits touching the woman on the temples n’ the
Black Canary nodded right out again. Zee pulled the covers back into place,
looking up at me-
“See?”
I sighed, blowing smoke. She could still have jus’ went over the deep end-
“Zee, I’m sorry but-“
“Probe her Constantine. You’ll see…”
I sighed again n’ stepped up aside the bed. The woman, Dinah was breathing hard
and still mumbling even under Zee’s spell. That didn’t necessarily mean magic-
she could jus’ be strong willed. Still…
I concentrated a bit, then leaned over the Canary, touching me fingertips to her
temples. I wasn’t expecting much, the usual whirlwind of garbled thoughts that
accompany the crazies. I figured I’d try n’ probe deep, jus’ enough t’ make Zee
happy. I figured I was wasting me time-
Whatever it was slammed into my brain like a sledgehammer. Blood spewed from me
nose and I broke contact fast as I could. Too late, I could still hear the
screaming inside me ‘ead, n’ I probably would for quite awhile. I staggered
back-
“Bloody…”
Zee was right there, a kerchief in one ‘and n’ me fag I’d spit out in the other.
I took both as she dabbed at the blood gushin’ out me nose, taking a long ‘ard
drag off me Silk Cut whilst I stared at the bird on the bed-
“Bloody ‘ell…”
I said it again, suckin’ filter. I din’ even realize I’d smoked out me fag till
Zee was shovin’ at me shoulder-
“John!” she shouted, “John! Are you okay?”
“No,” I said…
“No, I’m not.”
***
I ‘ad things t’do, n’ not a whole lot of time t’ do ‘em.
I was rattled, I’ll say. Not even expecting t’ see what I saw in Lance’s mind.
Zee was right in that it was more’n stress. It was a lot worse. I thought on the
outside that maybe it was Demons or some such. The Bird Lady n’ her group a’
super mates ‘ave fought off Demons before I know; Neron for one, n’ the Demons
Three, Abnegazar, Ghast and Rath n’ their Wheel, Bell, n’ Jar, Etrigan. Hell,
Felix Faust’s no slouch when he’s on ‘is par. I figured if she hadn’t jus’ gone
off the deep end then maybe one a’ them was messing with ‘er ‘ead. Little did I
know…
I did know basically what I ‘ad t’ do. Unfortunately, I’ve got no mobile magic
shop that I drive about in, so I ‘ad t’ find somewhere t’ get the items I needed
t’ do what I ‘ad t’ do. It was no small thing, mind, n’ I needed jus’ a few
oddities that weren’t available at the local 7-11. Too, Zatanna was all but
useless in this. Zee knows the basics, she can do an exorcism or a séance with
the best of ‘em, but what I ‘ad in mind, well, ‘er magic jus’ didn’t work that
way. Zatanna’s God awful powerful I’ll tell you what, but much a’ what she does
comes from ‘er Meta- somethin’ she inherited from Zatara. Granted, she’s a mage
through n’ through, she ‘as the spark, but a lot of what she does comes from ‘er
Meta too- it’s jus’ that Zatara taught ‘er that it was all magic, sneaky bastard
that he was. Course ‘er ignorance on that’s probably saved ‘er life more’n a few
times.
However, that left me without some key ingredients that I’d need if I was going
t’ help the Canary. Being in New York though ‘ad its bonuses. There were more’n
a few oddities floating ‘round Manhattan, n’ a couple stores that catered t’
their whims. Hell, you can find anything in New York for a price. Aside from the
Magical Child uptown that was basically a front for the tourists- n’ over-priced
I might add, there was a little hole in the wall apothecary up in the Bronx that
might fit the bill. Too, there were plenty of wannabe’s that would piss their
knickers n’ bend over backwards if John Constantine or Zatanna came a’ knockin’.
I didn’t ‘ave time for all’that though. Lance was slippin’ fast n’ I needed t’
find high-powered help that I knew n’ ‘ad not pissed over too badly in recent
memory. I sighed as one name popped into me ‘ead-
I told Zee t’ get ‘er friend ready as we were going out. She was a bit flustered
at that, but after I explained where we were ‘eaded n’ why she understood. Way I
figured it, what with my past, if we all showed up on Madame X’s doorstep, no
way she’s throw us out…
If you know what you’re looking for, you’ll find it- eventually. Madame
Xanadu’s little shop of horrors is like that. It tends t’ move about, sometimes
uptown, other times down in the Village. Zee said she saw it once not two doors
down from ‘er flat a year or so back. Point is though, if you’re looking for it
and in proper need you’ll find the little curio shop jus’ at the right time, n’
in the right place when you least expect it. Folks like Zee n’ me though got an
edge-
I take us up by the Park, the last place I saw it- though I knew better n’ t’ go
in that time. Last time I saw Madame X was when I was introducing Tim Hunter
about- though I’ve passed her shop a time or two since. She was right miffed
last time we talked, n’ I can’t for the life of me imagine why. She knows me. It
wasn’t my fault…
Zee pays the Hindi driving the taxi cab n’ together we drag the ‘alf-dazed Black
Canary out into the streets. Zatanna took off her ‘sleep’ spell, but left the
Canary ‘alf out of it jus’ in case. She was still babblin’ at things that only
she could see, n’ we both knew that if Lance got ‘er ‘ead clear, even for a
second, we were both toast.
We got a few queer looks from the people we passed in the street, but this bein’
Manhattan, nobody really seemed to care for more’n a second or two. A passing
glance, a few hushed whispers n’ the New Yorker’s went rushin’ on their merry
way, bless ‘em. Attitudes like that make me job all that much easier. Course the
same can be said for the opposition as well, I suppose-
“You better let me do the talking,” I said as we steered Lance up to the door in
the shop. It looked dark inside, glancing through the windows, but we both knew
that didn’t mean a thing. If it was meant t’ be, Xanadu would be inside slappin’
Tarot Cards t’ the table top waitin’ for us. If not, the doorway to nightmare
would be locked. That’s the way it worked.
Zatanna looked like she was about t’ say something but the Canary started
jabbering again. Whatever arguments she was going t’ start fell silent as her
face twisted in concern for her friend. She cooed Lance quiet again, then
glanced up at me with a nod. I gave ‘er me best grin and lit a fresh fag, tried
the door…
Somethin’ whizzed past me ‘ead. I ‘eard glass shatter on the door frame
behind me n’ Zee’s squeak a’ shock when somethin’ fluttered past me face. It was
a queer little bugger, all gray n’ stone-like with big bat wings-
“Dammit! Don’t let it get out”
The little gargoyle thingy went shooting off towards the doorway jus’ as Zee
tugged Lance through and slammed the door shut with a bang. The thing splatted
against the glass in the door n’ slid down all slow-like leavin’ a slimy trail
behind till it spludded t’ the floor.
“Out of my way Constantine!”
Madame Xanadu shoved past me and ran right up t’ the door, crouching down. The
little creature was squirming n’ shakin’ its ‘ead, flapping its wings as though
tryin’ t’ get away. It started squealing like a stuck pig as Xanadu trapped it
under foot n’ reached for it, snagged a wing between her fingernails. She was
whispering as she stood, some spell that only she might know as she stuffed the
poor little bugger kickin’ n’ screamin’ into what appeared t’ be a mason jar.
She gave me a withering look as she twisted on the lid n’ slipped the jar into
the folds of her shawl. Didn’t say a word to me before turning and smiling at
Zee-
“Zatanna,” she beamed, ‘er eyes almost sparklin’ with delight. “It’s been so
long. How wonderful to-“
I imagine she finally focused on the Canary then, cuz Xanadu got all business
all of a sudden. She stood a little taller as she straightened her long,
billowing shawl n’ I got a nice view of ‘er ass. Xanadu’s one a’ those what
never seems t’ age, n’ she always looks good. I’ve known ‘er a long time, we go
way back, but it’s a day t’ day relationship, a little give and a lot of take-
usually on my part. Still, push come t’ shove, far better’n t’ be with ‘er than
against ‘er.
“Enter freely and unafraid…” Madame X said as she bowed slightly gesturing with
a wide sweep of her arm for Zatanna to take the Canary inside the shop proper. I
noticed straight off that the jar with the gargoyle was gone. Nice bit that.
Zatanna helped Lance along deeper into the shop towards the Madame’s parlor.
Madame Xanadu turned n’ strolled past too without so much as a pardon me. She
lifted ‘er pert little nose into the air n’ sniffed. I gave a little shiver,
feelin’ jus’ a bit chilly. I shrugged me coat up onto me shoulders n’ followed
along-
“Good t’ see you too again, Madame,” I said, hopin’ t’ break the ice.
“Save it Constantine,” she growled under her breath. “My invitation is for
Zatanna, not you. You’re not welcome here, and if you must stay remain silent,”
she turned and flashed me a wickedly sly grin, “and be very afraid.”
Melts me ‘eart, that one. Always has. At least she’s talkin’ to me.
Madame Xanadu’s shop always looks the same as it ever was no matter where it
ends up. The cheesy broken-down storefront’s jus’ a façade as t’ what lies
beyond the door. The inner sanctum’s always got that lived in look, like an
antique store or a curio shop that jus’ seems t’ gather dust n’ cobwebs. At
first glance it seems cluttered with junk like what you’d get from your
Grandmother’s attic after she’s kicked; old candelabras, tarnished mirrors,
rickety furniture what looks like it came over on the Ark, y’know what I mean.
Course I know better, n’ I’m quite sure Zee does too. Any practitioner worth
their weight, no matter the Art would know immediately that everything in the
shop is there for a reason, a purpose. There’s a story behind everything in the
store, from the tattered, moldy tapestry hanging lopsided on the back wall to
the silver wolf’s head cane in the umbrella stand to the shelves full a’ jars,
bottles n’ flasks that seem t’ take up almost every square inch of free space
‘round the little shop. The Madame ‘erself fits right in of course, dressed like
that gypsy fortune teller you always see lurking in the shadowy corners of the
county fair. She looks the part too, with her long black hair and flowing
dresses, bangles, beads and big hoop earrings. Lucky too, as she’s a cartomancer
by trade; a fortuneteller with a knack for the cards.
Madame X directed Zatanna t’ sit at her table in the center of ‘er private room
in the back. Zee planted the Canary in the chair next to ‘er, still hanging on
even though the Canary seemed out of it again. There was only three chairs at
the table I saw, n’ since Xanadu took the third I chose t’ stand, chainin’
another fag t’ life n’ melting into the shadows out of the way. Whoever said
chivalry was dead never met John Constantine.
I saw that the Madame had been turning cards before we showed n’ saw straight
off why she probably knew it was me at ‘er door. I saw the Fool crossed over the
Wheel of Fortune. I’ve ‘ad enough readings t’ know that usually represents me. I
saw the Queen’s of Swords n’ Cups in the mix as well as the Tower n’ the Hanged
Man. I was never big on Tarot, not me cup a’ tea y’unnerstand, but it’s got its
place right enough, and even a novice could see the symbolism; me, Zee, the
Canary goin’ on a journey n’ running afoul of… what?
I blinked, focusing on the task at hand n’ saw that Zatanna was jus’ winding
down ‘er tale a’ what was wrong with Lance. I must’ve zoned jus’ a bit, thinking
happier thoughts and better times. Me fag was jus’ a stub burning me fingers-
“Those you seek are hard to find, Zatanna,” Xanadu said as she scooped up ‘er
deck n’ started shuffling. “Harder still if they do not wish to be found. You
were wise to bring your friend to me, and I grudgingly admit wiser still to
bring along the Constantine. It will take the three of us combined to breach the
outer limits of creation I think, a merging of our individually unique
applications of the mystical arts. A pity you did not go to Fate however, as his
power is more forthright than the trickster’s.”
“Thanks Luv,” I said, fishing another Silk Cut outta me pack. I hoped this
wouldn’t take too long, I was runnin’ low. “Fate’s a bit- involved at the
moment, n’ you know as well as me that the rest of the upper echelon are jus’ a
bit too snooty t’ get involved in somethin’ so far beneath them. Well, maybe the
Spectre as him n’ the bird lady were teammates once upon a time, but-“
“Shut up, Constantine! When I need your interpretation I shall not hesitate to
ask, but don’t hold your breath.” Xanadu’s breasts were heaving as she tried to
control ‘er temper. I smiled when she saw where me eyes ‘ad strayed n’ she
scowled, ‘er eyes goin’ all dark, “I doubt I have a container large enough to
hold your ego, Constantine, but damned if I won’t-“
“Please,” Zatanna snapped, her voice cracking with emotion. Me n’ the Madame
both turned ‘er way n’ I saw tears in Zee’s eyes. “Please, will you two just
stop? We need to help Dinah! Put it aside, whatever it is and let’s get to it!”
I saw shame wash over Xanadu’s face as she frowned n’ nodded, and I gotta say I
didn’t feel none to proud meself. I’d let the snappy banter get the better a’
me. A little T&A- hell- a lot of T&A distracted me. Time t’ get me ‘ead outta me
arse n’ focus-
“Right. Sorry, Luv,” I said apologizing to Zatanna, then to Xanadu with a slight
bow, “Madame, at your leisure…”
Xanadu’s shop was always full a’ secrets n’ mysteries. She led us t’ the back
n’ pulled that tapestry aside to reveal another door, another room one step
beyond. The door creaked like it hadn’t been opened in decades but light spilled
through the portal n’ I winced jus’ a bit as we all stepped through. It was a
tiny room that seemed t’ look out on a courtyard. The sun was beaming down
though, so either the overcast ‘ad burned off outside or we were looking at
someplace else. There were plants and birds n’ rocks and things scattered about
outside, all centered on a marble statue of one of the Greek or Roman gods;
Hermes or Mercury I imagine by the funny hat n’ caduceus. Whoever, he was
standing in a wide, round fountain with water spewin’ outta the biggest John
Thomas I ever want t’ see. Probably somethin’ t’ do with rebirth or
revitalization I imagine, but whatever it wasn’t a pretty sight.
The room itself was a slice of the dark side though, all shadows n’ black. There
were four candles burning at the points of the compass in the tiny room’s four
corners and there was a circle etched out on the floor in salt with a bit of
pasty stuff that was likely a blood n’ semen mix, considering where we were
hoping t’ go. Xanadu ‘ad everything set up like she knew we were coming, n’ like
I said before she probably did. That’s ‘er trade after all, n’ she’s damn good
at it- the best.
“Strip your friend Zatanna and place her in the Circle, head to the south and
her limbs in Crucifix position, hands and feet on the star sigils.” Xanadu
handed me a jar of sloppy paste and an old quill like they used t’ use for
writing. “I’ll need your help with the runes, Constantine. You know the Eld
symbols, while Zatanna knows the chants despite her teachings. Try to keep your
mind on the task at hand.”
“All business, Luv, you know me.” Xanadu smiled at me finally, shaking her head-
“Yes, I do unfortunately.”
It was hard, I’ll tell you. Lance is one fine bird, but I knew that she was in
trouble so I concentrated at the job. After Zee got the Canary into proper
position it took me n’ the Madame the better part of two hours t’ get the runes
n’ sigils painted on ‘er naked, splayed body. Lance was moanin’ throughout, but
the Circle of Power ‘eld ‘er in place despite ‘er writhing about. I was sweating
by the time we were through, n’ I saw that Xanadu n’ Zatanna were in little
better shape. I lit another ciggy n’ took a breather whilst Zee kept chanting
the preliminaries. I noticed outside that the sun hadn’t seemed t’ move.
“The powers are stirring,” Madame Xanadu said as she knelt by the Black Canary’s
head. She had lit more candles all around the room n’ directed us where t’ kneel
at the Circle. “The veils are parting, the mists disperse. I shall be the
anchor,” Xanadu said looking up at Zee n’ me. She ‘ad her hands on Lance’s
temples, ‘er fingernails pressing into the skin jus’ enough t’ draw a trace of
blood.
“The two of you shall pass beyond, into that place where the Eld reside, that
endless land. You should arrive at the juncture, that place between their
domains. After that you will be on your own. I shall hold Dinah Laurel Lance
here, binding her body that you might seek her soul. If you are right, John, she
will be there trapped twixt Desire and Despair. Guard your will lest you be
taken in as well.”
I saw that Zee looked just a bit jumpy. In the League of Extraordinary Metas she
was Queen Shit on the Magical Front, but this was jus’ a bit beyond what she
ever had to experience I think. Even when her Da died, when the Big Darkness was
trying to gain a foothold in reality she was jus’ a bit player. Now she was in
the thick of it, n’ jus’ a bit afraid I think. I gave ‘er ‘and a squeeze, gave
‘er a smile. Damned if I’d let anything happen to her.
“Let’s do this,” she said, licking ‘er lips n’ wiping the sweat from ‘er brow.
“let’s get this over.”
“Easy, Luv,” I said looking to Xanadu. She nodded-
“It’s time…”
A candy colored sky swirled all about, pastel clouds roiling in sickly pinks
and blues. Lightning crackled way off in one direction and a flowing glare of
neon washed through the horizon in another. There was ground beneath our feet,
n’ I saw that we were standing in a nexus, a crossroads with innumerable paths
leading off in every conceivable direction. There was a road paved in gold and
jewels directly opposing a blackened steaming ribbon a’ tarmac that stretched
down into the depths. I saw a man standing in the distance before a garden,
dressed in a purple monk’s robes and scrawling in a book, and not too far away
right near the edge of infinity there was a post standing with battered slats of
wood pointing off into the distance. There was a raven that took wing, started
towards us-
“John?” Zee asked stepping in close n’ grabbin’ me arm. “Where are we?”
“At the Crossroads, Luv,” I said sparking a cigarette. Me pack was full again,
you gotta love the metaphysical. “The juncture between then and now, here and
there, the Nexus of Realities. Next stop, the Twilight Zone…”
Okay, I’ll stop…
“So, where do we go from here?” Zee asked, hanging onto my arm. I could feel ‘er
shivering, more’n I figured she’d be. There was something here that didn’t sit
right with ‘er, but I couldn’t imagine what it was. I pointed off towards one of
the paths leading towards the horizon-
“That one I think,” I said, not totally sure. I’d met Morpheus once. Lord
Morpheus, the Sandman. He sought me out actually, looking for one of his
possessions, a bag of sand- Sandman, get it? He’s dead now as I understand it,
though I don’t recall oddly. He’s a successor apparently, rumor has it, himself
but named Daniel I think. I dunno, it’s all a convoluted mess. I remember a
Wake, but it might be I dreamed the whole thing-
“Hello!”
The raven was big as ravens go, slick n’ black with wide wings n’ beady eyes
that pierced the soul. Too, it could talk, but here where we were that wasn’t
such a big thing.
“You’re the Constantine, right?” it asked in its croaking bird voice n’ I
nodded. “I recognize the face and the hairline. Surprised to see another of you
here so soon. Gotta cigarette t’ spare, son? I’d kill, I swear-“
I smiled and pulled a fag from my endless pack a’ Silk Cuts, chainin’ it t’
life. I stuck it in the bird’s beak and watched as he took a long, hard drag-
“Ahhhhhh…” he said, blue smoke roiling about him as he perched on me shoulder.
“Thanks, pally. Been awhile. Where you headed, son?”
“Not exactly sure,” I said, taking a drag on me own fag. This was too easy so
far. I dunno what the raven was, but I’d given him a gift n’ now he owed me.
That’s the way it worked in the realms. I reached into me pocket then, jus’ in
case n’ found a Polaroid all curled and chaffed. I pulled it out, it was Lance.
I ‘eld it up for the blackbird t’ see, the symbolism not escaping me-
“Seen this bird?” I asked n’ the raven peered at the old, yellow photo. He
cocked his ‘ead n’ puffed on his fag-
“Yeah,” he said with a chirp looking at the photograph, “yeah I think I have.
Take the road ta Indecision. Leads right between the boundaries of Concupiscere
and Dolor. Stay on the road, dude, and beware the moon- Selene’s in a foul mood
lately. Wander off an’ she’ll have yer heart for lunch.”
“Thanks, mate,” I said, slippin’ another fag into the bird’s claws for ‘is ‘elp.
How he’d light the thing I dunno, but that wasn’t me problem.
“Matthew,” he said as he took wing, circling twice ‘fore he headed back towards
Nod. “Watch yer back, Constantine, and when you get the chance, hit her once for
me." I watched as the Raven winged his way back into Dream, glad for the help. I
wondered who I was going to hit, but I knew there was a whole lot of silliness
floating about here, a lot of possibilities that might never happen. I shrugged,
looking at Zee-
“Shall we?” I asked, holding me arm out n’ crooked. Zatanna tried t’ smile, but
this was all over ‘er ‘ead. Still, she looped ‘er arm through mine-
“Orf t’ see the Wizards then…”
Time’s a bit strange in the Odd Realms, a little off. I dunno how long me n’
Zee walked, could’ve been hours or days, maybe minutes. I know Zatanna was
bitching and moaning that ‘er feet were killing ‘er before too long it seemed.
High price of wearing high-heels in your everyday clothes. Zatanna was in her
stage costume, looking too fine in her pumps, fishnets n’ that little tuxedo
thing she wore complete with tophat n’ tails. Me, I was in me usual suit n’ tie
with me trenchcoat overall. It’s all relative I suppose, though I dunno how Zee
was seein’ ourselves. She seemed t’ have a constant blush in ‘er cheeks, so
maybe she was seein’ me in the all-together. One can hope, I suppose.
We took the road that Matthew indicated at any rate. It was fairly deserted,
though we saw the occasional poor soul cast at the side of the path. Poor slobs
what didn’t ‘ave the balls to reach their final destination I imagine. Desire’s
a ‘ard mistress I know, as Kit could tell you.
After an eternity however we finally saw our destination. To the left, the Realm
of Desire- Concupiscere stretched up and away in a rocky prominence shining in
the sun, forever out of reach. To the right, Dolor- Despair fell away into the
dark pits of infinity, a sloppy, mud choked path. The sky between was a leaden
gray, and the road ahead jus’ seemed t’ keep on going forever, but we saw what
we were looking for, though rightly we both wished that we hadn’t-
We saw Lance suspended above the chasm that separated the Realms. She was naked
of course, no secrets here, and ‘er hair was as black as Zee’s but I’d know
those legs anywhere now. She was writhing above the chasm, twisting and turning
in the bonds that held her fixed in place. She was crying out in agony, a high,
piercing scream that rattled me bones n’ set me teeth t’ grinding.
There was chains running from both ‘er wrists. One was thick n’ old n’ rusted,
and that one ran off t’ the right, right down into the mud. There was a grave
there, the ground all choppy as a green gloved skeletal hand reached up outta
the mire to hold on to the chain, drawing it in. It didn’t take an Einstein t’
realize that that was probably Queen- the Green Arrow trying to drag Lance down
into his little world, the dregs of despair. Canary had a bit of unrequited love
there, couldn’t let Queen go apparently. The Green Arrow was laughing as he
tugged on the chain, and the Canary was screaming bloody murder. There was an
old abandoned Flower Shop on the edge of the cliff, dark and boarded up, broken
down. I had no idea…
Off to the left was a thin golden chain sparkling in the light. The manacle
about her wrist was as thick as the other, but the chain was thin as a wisp of
hair, shining gold and stretching up and away. There was someone holding the
other end- loosely mind, barely clutching at the strand of metal. He was
floating out over the abyss near the pinnacle, dressed in a golden skirt and
sandals. There was a lightning bolt emblazoned on his chest, his black hair
slicked back and a conceited smirk on his bronzed, perfect face.
The Black Canary was writhing, twisting and struggling in her bonds as the Green
Arrow tugged at her, drawing her down into the grave, the other trying to pull
her into whatever enlightened world he envisioned, a shining spire etched into
the rock behind him. The dark haired bloke was winning-
“Black Adam…” Zatanna said staring at the bloke in the skirt in all his glory.
I’d never seen ‘im before, but he was impressive, I will say. His muscles were
rippling as he stood there in mid-air and I could see the magic crackling off of
‘im in waves of electricity. He smiled, flashing a huge mouthful of teeth and
gave another pull on his end of the golden chain, wrapping another loop about
his wrist as Lance screamed ‘er agonies. Across the way glass shattered in the
flower shop-
I winced, bitin’ down on me fag and shovin’ me fingers into me ears. I saw Zee
was doin’ the same when I unclenched me eyelids, n’ I saw a trickle a’ blood
dripping from ‘er nose. I ‘ad blood on me ‘ands when I looked as well. This was
not good.
It was all symbolism I know, the images we were seeing. That was Lance there, in
the middle of a tug-a-war between Despair n’ Desire- her soul at least, or her
essence. I never been too clear on what exactly; astral selves, shadow selves,
souls- they all come out the same. Whether Zee an’ I were here in the same
capacity or jus’ observing somehow I wasn’t certain. All I knew was that Lance
was killin’ us with her screaming- her Meta I suppose, n’ we had to put a stop
to it. And save her too, of course-
“Girl’s got a set a lungs on ‘er, I’ll say. Nothin’ you can do about that, Luv?”
I looked at Zatanna and she shrugged biting on her lip. She looked a bit rattled
by it all-
“I can try,” she said, and I saw her concentrate, looking for the right words I
imagine. Best I be doin’ the same. If the Ladies were about, they’d be here soon
enough as soon as we started monkeying about.
“!raeppa gaG”
Zee pointed a finger up at the Canary and suddenly something clamped about ‘er
face. I saw Lance’s eyes grow wide as she screamed, but thankfully nothing
penetrated the thick ball stuffed in her mouth n’ she couldn’t shake loose the
wide, binding leather straps. Her big blue eyes welled up in sorrow as she
realized she was done n’ she jus’ hung ‘er ‘ead in defeat- despair…
“Shit!” I charged forward, realizing that we ‘ad tilted the scales. I saw the
Green Arrow come churning out of the muddy plot of land that was ‘is grave. His
face was mostly skull drippin’ charred flesh n’ one arm was all bone. Not that
it mattered apparently as he got a strong grip on the rusty chain n’ started
dragging Lance back down-
Frangere!
I ran forward shouting a simple Word, one that should have worked. I could hear
Zee clacking along behind me, short choppy steps in her high-heels. I could hear
Queen laughin’ then, louder n’ louder the closer I got. It was raining in
Despair’s realm, pouring, water sluicing down the pits in a muddy wash-
Frangere!
“John!” I heard Zatanna shout as the Canary jerked in ‘er bonds. “Stop!”
“Fuck!” I was breaking ‘er bones, not the chains. I was killing ‘er, or at least
killing ‘er resistance. I could ‘ear Queen laughin’ all the louder over the
thunder that started rollin’.
Lightning flashed lighting up the pits n’ I saw the Realm of Dolor in all its
glory. Shattered dreams and lost souls stretching out and down into the endless
gray wastes. There was a forest of twisted tortured trees writhing up and trying
to touch the leaden sky. There was a city on the horizon jammed with a multitude
of people all fighting for a scrap of bread, a drink of water, life. There was a
cemetery littered with stone markers crumbling in the storm. The ground churned
as bony hands clawed to the surface, faces rising up to grin at me with their
death heads on.
I saw ‘em all, I was so close. All me ghosts n’ failures come t’ call n’ drag me
into the depths. Frank n’ Benjamin, Ritchie, Sister Anne Marie in ‘er habit.
They were all there, more’n I cared to admit or even wanted to remember. All me
failures; Gaz, Emma, Judith, Gemma…
All but one…
I look to me left and I see ‘er standin’ there, waitin’. Makes sense I suppose.
Kit would be me desire after all- one of ‘em at any rate. She’s standing at a
bus stop, a beautiful spring day with the sun shinin’ down n’ birds singing t’
beat the band. How I hear that over the thunder I don’t know, but I ‘ear Kit as
well, plain as day. She says me name, smiles n’ me ‘eart melts-
“Daddy…”
I blink t’ hear the strange voice breakin’ me out of my reveries. Me stomach’s
doin flips as I force meself about t’ see what’s happening behind me. I know
that if I let Kit outta me sight again that she’ll be gone for good, but I’m a
nosy bastard n’ jus’ gotta see-
Zatanna’s standin’ between the two of ‘em, middle of the road. One’s all burned
n’ smoldering, his body the charred remains of spontaneous combustion. His
tuxedo is little more’n moldy rags n’ there’s a dead rabbit pokin’ outta his
tophat. His opposite is all pristine n’ shine, his clothes immaculate. His
hair’s slicked back n’ there’s a twinkle in ‘is eye, a smile on ‘is lips that’s
all showmanship. He was the best in ‘is day, ‘fore Fate n’ the Spectre came
along n’ it shows, n’ he knows it. I can see it in the way he stands, offering
‘is ‘and to ‘is daughter. His name’s Zatara, n’ I killed ‘im…
“Come Zatanna,” he says in stereo, the moldy one groping, trying to grab at
Zee’s tails, “Greatness awaits!” his voice booms, drowning out most else, but
somewhere in the back a’ me ‘ead I can still ‘ear Queen laughing n’ me own
problems callin’ me name-
“John…”
“Constantine…”
“John…”
I imagine that it would be too much for most folk, but then I’m hardly what’s
considered normal. I knew exactly what I was doin’ t’ everyone of me friends
when I threw ‘em t’ the wolves. Obviously there’s still a bit of somethin’ there
t’ bring ‘em up, but I made peace with me ghosts long ago. Too much baggage for
the likes a’ me t’ be dragging about. Too many things t’ use against me. I
ignore the graveyard n’ glance t’ the left a final time. Kit smiles n’ turns,
walks away…
“John…”
“Bugger the lot a’ ya,” I shout, looking up n’ about for the Canary, tryin’ t’
get back on track. Zee was on ‘er own for the moment, but I knew she was strong.
Stronger ‘n me in most ways, she’d do the right thing. I had t’ save Lance…
I spotted ‘er in the deluge, the driving rain off to the right. Queen was
dragging her down, n’ she already ‘ad one foot in the grave. She’d given up. I
glanced at Adam n’ saw him still hovering there, pulling for all he was worth on
his end of the chain. He was swathed in sweat n’ cursing in some old forgotten
language. Hi9s bit of the chain was played right out t’ the end n’ I could see
that ‘is little gold links were starting t’ spread and stretch. Soon enough
they’d break n’ Lance would give in t’ Despair, least I thought.
I knew what I ‘ad t’ do…
I leapt…
I grabbed the chain n’ ‘eard the Canary’s whimpers as me added weight put a
strain on ‘er tortured arms. She squirmed n’ twisted in ‘er bonds, but I didn’t
care as I grabbed ‘old for dear life. The chain was scalding me skin as I inched
closer t’ the bird, the tiny gold links digging into me flesh. I could see the
thinner chain starting t’ fray, the manacle starting t’ tarnish as the other
looked t’ be getting stronger, the rust flaking away. I swung closer, closing me
grip about the thin gold encircling ‘er wrist-
Aerire!
We fall into the mud as the thin gold manacle shatters and falls away. Lightning
flashes and thunder rolls as I grab the bird about the waist trying t’ hold me
ground as the Green Arrow laughs, rising outta the muck t’ pull ‘er down. I see
others behind him in the mud, coming up outta the ground n’ in his coffin; some
bloke in a suit older than mine, an older version of herself dressed in leather
n’ fishnets with a sexy little domino mask, some buzz-cut in tweed with a red
bow tie. The woman’s her mother I imagine, the others I dunno nor care, but
they’re all tugging on the chain n’ trying to take ‘er away. No way that happens
with me here.
I climb right up onto the bird as ‘er own ghosts start grubbin’ n’ grabbin’. I
hear Black Adam screamin’ bloody murder too, but he’s done I know. It’s all on
me now as I scramble, straddling her hips n’ trying t’ dig into the muck for
purchase. I shake the bird-
“C’mon, Lance! Fight ya great fat cow!”
She moans, ‘er eyes full of tears as she slips deeper into the mire. Queen’s
grabbin’ tit n’ mum has a good grip in ‘er hair.
“Bitch! Fuckin’ cunt! Snap out of it!” I curse ‘er, slap ‘er but she don’t even
respond. She’s done. Lost cause…
Bugger that…
I ram me fag into ‘er tit n’ she screams. It’s muffled by the gag- thank Zee- or
I’d be done then n’ there, but at least I got ‘er attention-
“Back off, Limey bastard!” Queen snarls n’ shoots arrows into me with ‘is eyes.
I’m so scared, fuckin’ poof. Queen for bloody ‘ell…
Lance locks eyes with me, her sparklin’ blues stark n’ naked, sharp but for a
bit of tear still in the corners. If looks could kill…
She wanted it t’ end, but who didn’t. How many times I wanted t’ jus’ lie down,
but that ain’t our lot. There’s higher callings for the likes of us n’ I wasn’t
about t’ let this cow get off without a fight. With great power, bitch…
I flipped ‘er over onto ‘er stomach n’ shoved ‘er face into the muck. She
moaned, glancing back over ‘er shoulder as I reared up n’ started undoing me
trousers. I saw ‘er eyes go wide as she started t’ shake ‘er ‘ead, knowing what
was coming. I had what she wanted, knew what she needed. I slapped ‘er ass,
grabbed a handful of ‘er ‘air all me own n’ yanked ‘er ‘ead up-
“Look at ‘im, bitch! Your lover’s laughin’ at you from the grave, n’ that other
bloke in the skirt, shit, he’s got you on ‘is leash. You need a real man, Lance.
Give it up, bird,” I said tryin’ me best t’ sound like a rude boy. “I got your
shaft right here!” I could feel ‘er shakin’ beneath me as I whipped it out in
all its glory. She was cryin’ n’ whinin’, tryin’ t’ get away n’ clawing deeper
into despair. She was vibrating now, screaming into the gag, and starting t’
fight finally, I could tell. ‘Bout bloody time. I pried ‘er apart, pushing
forward-
“John!”
Thrusting…
“John! Jesus, stop it!
I ignored Zatanna, leaning into it, sweatin’ like a pig rooting around in the
mud. Lance arched up as I hit home, her back curving. She screamed-
The world shattered…
I woke to darkness…
I was back in Xanadu’s shop, but it was dark and dim, the light no longer
streaming through the windows and the candles long ago burned out down to the
nubs. I felt something soft and wet beneath me. I smelled sex and sweat and knew
some of it was mine. Raising up I tried t’ stand, but the old limbs jus’ weren’t
up t’ the task. I fell back n’ ‘eard somebody moan beneath me.
I was sprawled in the Circle, lying on top of the Black Canary. She was still
splayed t’ the four corners of the Circle, but she was breathing n’ so was I, so
that was ‘alf the battle right there. I saw Zee collapsed off t’ one side,
sprawled on the floor with her clothes all in disarray. Xanadu was still at the
‘ead of the Circle but fallen back and unconscious. They were both breathin’
too.
I sighed n’ crawled off the Canary. She moaned as I slid outta ‘er, n’ I gotta
admit t’ blushing jus’ a bit. I hadn’t expected it t’ come t’ that, really. Sex
is strong magic though, big mumbo jumbo. I rolled back n’ propped on me elbows
as I gathered up me trousers n’ zipped me fly-
“John Constantine…”
I yelped in shock t’ hear the voice come oozing outta the shadows. I looked but
couldn’t see a bloody thing until she- he- it came sauntering forward. She- I
guess- was tall n’ thin without a bit of curve. Her hair was cut generic,
pageboy, n’ though I could see a bit of make up about the eyes n’ cheeks, the
lips ‘er skin was a sickly, pale white. She was dressed all in black, a suit
with a long coat, shiny black shoes n’ tie. I’d never seen ‘er before, but I
knew straight away who it ‘ad t’ be, cuz I wanted ‘er-
“Desire…”
She stepped out of the shadows with a conceited little smile, strolling up to
the edge of Xanadu’s Circle. She brought a long, filtered cigarette to her lips
n’ puffed as she looked down, finally brushing the sole of ‘er shoe over the
etching on the floor, breaking the pattern. She sighed, blue smoke swirling
about ‘er face as she stared at me, pulling me own Silk Cuts outta me pocket.
She ‘eld her own fag out, offering me a light-
“I am impressed, mage,” she said taking another drag as she strolled about the
Circle. I jus’ sat there tryin’ t’ gather me thoughts, watching ‘er.
“My brother spoke highly of you, once, briefly, before he died. I should have
listened.”
“Morpheus…” she nodded-
“But, what’s done is done. There are others,”
“Why, Luv?” I had t’ ask, tryin’ t’ stand. I was weak, swaying on me feet but
damned if I'’ stay on me arse before her. "What’s in it for you?”
“Diversion, mage,” she said, blowing smoke as she nudged Zee with the toe of ‘er
shoe. “Eternity can grow quite boring. You cannot imagine the tedium of watching
the worlds pass by, only the occasional spark to liven things up. These godlings
spark my interest, at least for now. There will be others…”
“But why her?” I asked, standing over the Canary. Desire jus’ smiled-
“You have to ask? Look at her- World’s most beautiful crimefighter. Lost love,
hope, overbearing mother, father died a hero. She desires a life all her own,
but she lives in too many shadows. Too, so much dragging her down; dead lover,
sterile, powers waning on a whim. She wants the boy, y’know? The red head…”
“All well n’ good Luv, but-“
“These ‘Metas’ are fresh mage. I haven’t sensed the burn in so long, not since
your kind crawled out of the sea ages ago. They have the lofty dreams, the
desires- and despairs that make the world go round. Dreams and delusions for all
to taste. My brother…”
“Time to go sister…”
We both look, turn to the shadows and I see the other one there. She’s a bloated
cow, fat on top of fat, her pasty white skin mottled and corrupted, her lips
turned down in a frown sprawled across the remains of a chair that collapsed
under her weight. Despair…
“The mage beat us, as I figured,” she sighed, dejected. “Time to move on.”
“I suppose.” Desire smirked, flicking her cigarette into the shadows where it
flared brightly, then vanished-
“As I said, mage, I am impressed. Don’t get involved with the others and we’ll
let this one go. Lane is ours.”
I had no idea, but I nodded none the less-
“Sure,” I said, “Whatever…”
Desire laughed…
Despair sighed…
They were gone…
We left Xanadu sort of in the lurch t’ pick up the pieces of ‘er shop. She
was happy things worked out, but she was happier t’ see me gone, I dunno why. Ya
gotta love ‘er…
We rallied at Zee’s for a bite n’ a cup, but before too long I ‘ad t’ go. The
Canary was givin’ me the evil eye. I dunno jus’ how much she remembered, but by
her looks she was none too happy. Zee was a bit rattled as well, havin’ t’
confront ‘er demons in the form of ‘er father. If she recalled that I was the
one what killed ‘im, she didn’t mention it, but I knew the cold shoulder n’ the
bum’s rush when I saw it. All’s I wanted was a quick trip home, n’ if that meant
getting’ me molecules scattered across creation again, so be it. I stepped up on
the little metal disk, lightin’ a fag as I looked at four of the best legs out
there. I sighed, screw the Dwarf-
“Thank you Constantine…”
The Black Canary was standin’ on shaky legs, but at least she was standin’. She
looked like shit, her hair a mess n’ her costume sort of crooked n’ ridin’ her
ass, but I’d do ‘er. Again… Her eyes were clear though, sharp n’ determined. She
was back. She’d put ‘er ghosts n’ demons behind ‘er. She held out her hand n’ I
took it, shook it. I wondered jus’ how much she remembered. Zee smiled-
“Guess you’re one up again, John,” Zee said, smiling wider n’ I matched her
straight away-
“Who’s keepin’ score, Luv?”
“You are, Constantine,” she said, n’ Lance piped up-
“I am too. I owe you Constantine-“
“Forget it,” I said, hating those long good byes-
“Right…” Lance smiled slightly, a sparkle still in ‘er eye, squeezing me ‘and
until I whimpered. Bird had a grip, not by ‘alf-
Zatanna had healed the Canary, mended her bones n’ the scar I’d put on her tit.
She looked good again, clear n’ bright. I pitied the fool that got in ‘er way.
They were both t’ die for. I smiled-
“Next time, then…”
I saw Zee say something into a little device she was ‘olding, and the world
started to fade. I felt me stomach twist n’ turn as the skyline changed. Big Ben
was slamming out three bells as I staggered from the tube n’ collapsed on the
floor of the JLI Embassy. I wretched…
Thank you John Constantine…
Never…
Never again…
THE END.
Story © 2004 Curt Fernlund and may not be reproduced without permission.
