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Here ends this chapter of the tale of Nabu, Order's last Lord, who embraced death at the end of the ninth age to spare the world the wrath of that old ghost, the Spectre. Pay heed, you reader of this chronicle of magic's ninth age - Pay heed, observe and prepare! The chosen one will pick The Book Of Fate's owner early in magic's tenth age. Though his life be forfeit, the chosen one will complete his task and deliver the dread pages of Nabu! He will find the student of powerful knowledge, who unlocks the secrets of truth and shares it with others. The chosen one will deliver the book, it shall know and transform its owner, it shall bond Nabu's ancient words to him!The student will choose those to be remembered, and those to be forgotten. Heed his words. He is the owner of the dread book. |
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Sargon the Sorcerer, now inhabiting the powerful body of his servant Kassadar, was in the "place between places," that realm he used to transport himself across the earth. He had left Williams City and was traveling to Salem , where he planned to confront the holder of the Book of Fate and take it for his own.
The spell which copied his soul and spirit and attempted to "write" it onto his servant* had worked perfectly - he now had forty hours. Kassadar had forced his own mind, soul and spirit to flee rather than share its essence with a copy of Sargon's... as a side benefit, Sargon would be free of having to worry about keeping another's personality in check as he went about his business. Still, Kassadar's body and essence would be reunited at the end of the spell, so it was important to move quickly.
This was a desperate gamble - everything was on the line. At the end of the forty hours, Sargon's spirit would be evicted from Kassadar's body, and his own moral form had perished back in Williams City . If he did not win in his battle for the Book of Fate , he would have to go into the hereafter. He was not ready for that inevitable trip, no, not yet. There was still much he wanted to do to glorify his own existence. He wouldn't face eternity with nothing more than stage entertainer and part-time crimefighter on his life's accomplishment list.
Sargon thought the Book was the key - if he could access its power, he would become a new Dr. Fate. Unlike his predecessors, Nabu's death meant he would not be a chess piece for a Lord of Order. He could write his own story of power and might on earth's blank pages - the opportunities were endless!
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"Billy - Billy, you in here?" Carl Jenkins, the Icebreaker, called out into the darkness.
Carl and Billy Jenkins, brothers down on their luck, had started their new careers as metahuman supercriminals a few minutes ago. By all accounts their new jobs were anything but successful. Earlier that morning, they had purchased two power suits from the guy with the black van over on Montclair Avenue and stormed the Fawcett Savings and Loan branch in the mall, only to learn the branch was closed on Sunday and that is was protected by several layers of doors and alarms.
Furious at the rookie error, Billy Jenkins terrorized the few speed-walkers trying to get in shape before the shops opened at noon . He started to open fire with the monstrous electrogun mounted to his right arm, which fried the metal gate in front of the ponto pup stand and sizzled a cash register at the Gary D's Big Cookeez store. Carl finally calmed him down enough to head outside.
That's when they ran into the superhero with the gold helmet and the large book and everything went big time bad.
Now Carl Jenkins couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. Everything was pitch black, like that charity haunted house he and Billy had visited when they were little kids, way too young for the teenage-geared entertainment. Carl remembered how the darkness at the haunted house drove Billy to tears that evening - today he better understood how his little brother felt that night.
"Billy? Where are you Billy?" Carl 'The Icebreaker' Jenkins yelled, looking for his partner in crime, trying to find his brother.
Carl remembered that the superhero at the bank made a giant mouth appear in the sky - how creepy was that? Then he knocked them around with electricity and heavy chains. Carl's head, forearms, shoulders and shins were still sore from the beating. He was pretty sure the circuits in his new "Icebreaker" suit were trashed... he was probably as useless as a broken refrigerator put out at curbside.
The giant mouth had swallowed the pair - the memory sent a stiff chill down Carl's spine. The mouth closed behind them, and then nothing but this darkness and a long, long sense of falling. Then suddenly, he was standing upright in the dark, no idea as to where he was. The darkness felt - alive , almost - Carl could breathe, yet he felt as if he might run out of air at any minute. He couldn't tell if this place he was trapped in was small or large, and the lack of perspective was starting to unsettle him almost as much as the absence of light. And if HE was getting unsettled, then Billy was probably going nuts. Billy wasn't the most calm person even when things were going well... he became just plain uncontrollable and stupid when things went wrong.
"BILLY!" Carl yelled.
"Not Billy, stupid - I'm Count Shockula ," Billy Jenkins answered, "we got code names now, remember?"
Carl winced. Billy had picked his codename in the cereal aisle at the S-Mart store.
"We gonna get out of this here mouth, then we gonna trash that floating pansy with the big book and chains but good, y'hear me?" Billy Jenkins said, his voice raising in volume with each word, "then we gonna hold up a bank, ransom us some hostages, buy a space station, hire Lex Luthor to run it, get us some teammates and trash that gold faced freak but good! He gonna taste revenge AT THE ELECTRIC HANDS OF COUNT SHOCKULA!" Billy swore.
Carl tried to see his brother - no results in this pitch-dark blackness. Carl knew this side of Billy - covering up fear with false bravery, using anger and threats to hide the fact that he was scared.
"Oh, forget those ideas and spend some time working on your grammar instead, friend," a calm, even voice called out from the darkness.
"Billy, did you hear that? That wasn't me! Maybe we'd better calm down -" Carl started, trying to quiet his brother.
"THAT YOU, GOLD FACE FREAK?!? Scared to show yourself, hidin' in the dark, trying to scare us with your punk tricks!!" Billy screamed.
Carl heard the sound of small engines start to hum and realized Billy was trying to activate his electric combat suit. If he fired that electrogun, here in the darkness, Carl realized he might get hit! With his own suit damaged, he wasn't sure if he could survive a blast from his brother.
"Now really, what can you do here, in The Forgetfulness," the calm voice asked, adding, "with each forgotten life, The Forgetfulness grows. It becomes more dense, requiring more feeding from the worlds beyond to sustain its hunger. It is a vicious cycle, growing but not completing."
"Billy, wait, don't shoot - you can't see where -"
"I TOLD YOU, CARL, IT'S COUNT SHOCKULA!" Billy shrieked. The engines on his suit were spinning with power now. Carl knew his brother was going to fire off some blasts. He went prone on what passed for the "floor," covered his head and prayed Billy's gun was aimed high.
"What do you think YOU can do?" the voice asked.
"Dr. Nerod was already here when I arrived. He tried electricity and, well, nothing. Ajax the Sun Man, despite all his solar might and connection to the planets, he resigned himself to his destiny and orbits the core of The Forgetfulness. Speed Centaur and Silver Streak attempted to break through using the speed of light, but even with the magical help of The Sword they stayed here. The Blue Bolt - he welcomed the rest and relaxation and found himself very comfortable," the calm voice said.
"GONNA FRY YOU LIKE EGGS -" Billy screamed.
"Oh, I know it's easy to lose hope here, but normally it takes awhile. Yank and Doodle spent years trying to find a way out, did escape briefly, but time had passed them by so they returned. In their haste they forgot how they escaped and haven't been able to leave since.
Magno and Davey found a way out, but never returned to share the secret. Mr. E almost went insane, cut off from his god Kolah, with the strange power and the magical elves... even Marvo the Magician couldn't help himself, poor man.
Mystery Mouse lost his intelligence, shrank down to normal size and reverted to rodentcy... he has a little hole in one of the walls, where The Mighty Zebra brings him some cheese now and again. Doctor Frost decided to freeze himself in ice, and he dreams cold dreams forever here in The Forgetfulness," the calm voice declared.
Carl Jenkins decided to reach out to the calm voice and said "you don't understand, mister, he's going to fire that gun no matter what you say to him -"
"Mister Midnight tried to use his time-stopping power. He stood frozen in place for a few minutes while the rest of us kept moving - that was good for a few laughs, stopping time where time doesn't exist - what a character. But that was how Golden Lad met the Moon Girl, which gave the place some romance.
Just in time, too, since things between Phantom Sphinx and War Nurse started cooling off about then..."
The engines on Billy Jenkins' 'Count Shockula' suit reached a screaming level. Pushing a button on his arm, Billy Jenkins sent a wide swath of electricity from left to right, scorching the darkness and filling the air with the scent of spent ozone, but not illuminating the room.
"HOW YOU LIKE THAT, SPOOK?!?" Bill Jenkins yelled, "YOU WANNA 'NOTHER PIECE OF COUNT SHOCKULA?!?"
There was no response.
"Billy, we've got to calm down and find a way out of here," Carl Jenkins said.
"YEAH, Yeah, yeah, I know, I know," Billy Jenkins answered, much of his anger seemingly discharged with the blast of electricity.
"Mystico The Wonder Man and The Cowled Lizard, they always said it's easier to face the unknown as a team. Me, I find it's better to work things through using solitary thinking. The Dart and Ace Marlow the Amazing Boy, they gave up after twelve years and willed themselves back to ancient Rome . I didn't even know they were from another time - you think you know people..."
"Please sir," Carl Jenkins said, "if we could only see."
"Oh, very well. Your brother's weapon isn't fully recharged yet, anyway. Lights!" the even, calm voice demanded.
Suddenly the darkness was gone! Carl looked around. There were no walls or ceiling, but no clear points of horizon, either - just a pale orange glow in every direction. There was Billy, some twenty five yards or so away maybe, and standing between them with his arms crossed was a man in his mid-thirties dressed in a black business suit, white oxford shirt and green necktie. He had short dark hair worked into a precise style. The suit, the hair, everything about him was crisp and clean and free of any wrinkles whatsoever. Carl thought the man belonged in one of those Turner Classic Movies. The man was turned towards Carl, his back to Billy.
"There, does that help?" the man in the middle asked with a smile on his face.
Billy took one look at the man and grinned fiendishly as he started to lower his electrogun. Before Carl could shout objection, Billy leveled it at the man's head and prepared to fire.
The man calmly shook his head in disapproval, as if he could see everything Carl was doing. He even went so far as to mutter "tsk, tsk" like a grade school teacher correcting a wrong answer at a chalkboard.
Then the man started to hum - more like a low, guttural chant, Carl thought.
Suddenly the man said,
" Om Mani Padme Hum!"
The strange phrase was answered, but in a distinctly different voice, and by someone else far away speaking some bizarre language. Carl and Billy both raised their heads to what would have been "the sky" at the sound of the weird echo, trying to find the source. When they returned their attention to the man in the business suit, he was gone! In his place stood a taller, larger figure in a long, green cloak with oriental symbols sewn into the fabric with matching green thread. The cloak reached the neck with a loose green hood that covered most of the man's head. The cloak slowly parted and revealed a green close-fitting uniform underneath. The man wore a long red scarf and loose fitting green boots that curled at the toes in an oriental fashion. He wore green gloves that had wide cuffs curled at the wrists. Carl was reminded of a cross between Peter Pan and a character from a Jet Li movie. The man in green walked forward, the fingers of his hands slowly curled into fists. Each step was deliberate and he moved with strength and grace, each footfall shook the ground of this strange, otherworldly place. His eyes were fastened on Billy, and the expression on his face was not happy.
Carl suddenly realized the green garbed man was walking on a collision course with his brother, and he wasn't slowing down. Billy shook his head approvingly, welcoming the chance to fight.
The man in green began to speak, and his voice was like that of the man in the black business suit, only stronger and louder: "I tried to handle this peacefully, but you have made it clear you desire violence. So you shall have it, ignorant one. The world outside has aged many years since I have found it necessary to soil my hands with combat, but that does not mean THE GREEN LAMA has forgotten how to deal with ones such as you!"
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Ethan Szechwicz, garbed in the helmet and robes of Fate, slowly gained his bearings. He was several stories off the ground, floating around a large stone tower with no windows or doors. He held the large book with its tremendous chain, joined to him at the arm. The tower loosely resembled a rook piece from a chess set his grandfather had given him years ago. He looked at the brickwork - giant white blocks, rounded corners on each stone. He noticed the mortar between the bricks. The mortar between the bricks, where four stones came together, formed a small cross. Ethan was reminded of who he was, whose he was, what he was and what this all meant.
"Book," Ethan said, "take me down to the street - now."
Ethan slowly descended to the sidewalk below. As he descended, he looked at the imposing tower. Instinctively, he knew this was supposed to be his base of operations. He knew there was much more to learn about all this once he went inside. But it was also very clear that all of this was not the result of some meta-human power... this was magic and witchcraft at work. He didn't know a lot about those things, but he knew they held great potential for evil actions and the corruption of the soul. Ethan looked at the large chain that bound him to the book, and the sight left a bad taste in his mouth.
Ethan's feet touched the ground and his thoughts went to his wife and his classroom at the church back in Williams City . He had totally abandoned both without so much as a second thought once this strange book had entered his life... and that wasn't normal. He wasn't even sure what time it was. Even now, his students were probably looking for him, probably calling his house and getting Meade all upset. Bad things could happen if Meade got too upset, the doctors had made that clear.
"Book, I -" Ethan started to say, then cut himself short.
Relying on spells and enchantments would only dig the hole of his problems deeper, he suspected. Besides, how would Meade react, seeing her husband chained to a book of magic and witchcraft, dressed up in this outfit, suddenly appearing in their home?
The book tugged at Ethan's arm. Ethan held it tighter, refused to let it free. He wanted time to think this matter through. The blasted book could stay shut while he tried to figure this thing out.
Unknown to Ethan, Dr. Occult stood a block away from the Tower Of Fate . The trench coat-wearing mystical investigator looked at Ethan standing near the stone tower. Next to him, in somewhat similar garb, the ghost of Mister Thirteen also watched.
"Note the loose dark green robes instead of the tight garb of the so-called super heroes," Dr. Occult said.
"Yes, yet he wears the golden helmet of most of the heroic versions. Hmmmmm... is that actually metal, or just a trick of light? I also see the gloves and cape... and that symbol, a lightning bolt on his chest, styled in fashion to the Marvel family, I suppose," Mister Thirteen replied.
"Note the clasps for the cape - ornamental skulls?" Dr. Occult asked.
"Yes, they ARE shaped like skulls. I sense similar energy in the gloves. Sense it rather than see it, but there's a myriad of energies at work" the ghost instructed.
Dr. Occult closed his eyes and clasped his red and black amulet to his chest, reaching with his mystical senses. He "saw" Ethan's aura, the invisible mystical trail he left in his wake. The trail was a mishmash of mystic energy signatures - and, what was that - something else - Suddenly, Dr. Occult's eyes opened very wide.
"What is it?" Mister Thirteen asked.
"I - I didn't think such a thing was possible," Dr. Occult said, "but this new Dr. Fate - he uses a form of Nabu's energy, as we suspected, but it has been tainted by the influence of the old wizard Shazam's magics. I suspect the battles Nabu and Shazam fought against the Spectre, where their lives were forfeited, have influenced this new user's power base. He is imprinted with all three signatures. And there's something else there too... this is a man of great personal spirit," Dr. Occult said.
"The Spectre's influence? Will he be turned? Are we in danger?" Mister Thirteen asked.
"No - and this is the strangest part - Nabu did not choose a magician or a mystic, or a youth marked for sorcerous destiny. Instead, he has chosen... a religious man, a Christian theologian, well-versed in matters related to the Spirit of God. Such a man would understand the conflicts within the Spectre better than most, I suspect," Dr. Occult answered.
"That might explain the robes," Mister Thirteen answered, "but a Christian? Even now, see how he holds the book as it pulls at him - it's clear he struggles with rejecting witchcraft. How will he willfully wield the power of Nabu in this world?
Dr. Occult mulled the matter over in his mind.
"Yes, it seems an unlikely choice, I agree, but if what I know of the prophecies hold true, then he will serve as the new agent. Hopefully, the lightning bolt design indicates he is pure of heart, like the Marvels. It's possible Nabu in some ways regretted his work with the archaeologist Stephens - that man was too jaded and hostile. He lacked the senses of wonder and amazement and restraint that all the best heroes have," Dr. Occult said.
"Do you think he knows about Sargon yet?" Mister Thirteen asked.
A young voice behind the men asked, "Who is Sargon?"
"Now Davey, you know it's not polite to interrupt a conversation with questions," a man's voice said, with a mild correcting tone.
"Yes sir. Pardon me, sirs," the young voice replied.
Dr. Occult and Mister Thirteen turned around to face the source of the voices. Mister Thirteen asked, "I'm sorry, do we know you?"
The man and boy were partly transparent, which would have startled people other than the likes of Dr. Occult and the ghost of Mister Thirteen. The new pair were dressed in coordinated uniforms, close-fitting blue and red bodysuits with white accents, boots and gloves and short capes which reached their belts. It was obvious the pair were costumed crimefighters at some point in their existence.
"We're - that is, we were, I mean, well, I'm Magno and this is young Davey. We were costumed crimefighters back in the 1940's, before we ...joined the ranks of the departed. We're supposed to be here in Salem today, that's about all we know - and at the end of the day, that's enough, isn't it?" Magno asked.
"Yes, of course," Mister Thirteen answered, "I sense others are coming, as well. Dr. Occult, you may find it useful to know there is quite a crowd on its way to Salem within the next few minutes."
"Jeepers! Is that the bringer of freedom? Is he gonna free our pals?" Davey asked, as he pointed at Ethan across the street.
Dr. Occult didn't fully understand the conversation, but he was still linked to the mystic spell that allowed him to "see" magical energy. He noticed something strange, unique, really, about Magno and Davey's auras. Before he could inquire, ten feet in front of the quartet, the air began to grow thick and oily, then it started to darken and shimmer. The darkness deepened, and began to cut through the daylight in long, bladelike strokes. The blade strokes curved into a a loose circle, and from the center of the circle two figures stepped forth onto the sidewalk.
A woman in a tight black uniform and flared black mask stood next to an armored swordsman wearing a red cape.
"Gotta go, Jim - you be careful," the woman said.
"Right - get back to the others. I'll warn the new Dr. Fate about the price for using magic," the armored man answered.
The woman stepped back into the black circle. It began to spin, and fell in upon itself and vanished from view.
"Ah, look, another onlooker. It's beginning to get crowded around here," Dr. Occult said, "have you three met Nightmaster, leader of this age's Shadowpact?"
"Dr. Occult," Nightmaster responded, "I take it there are many here - I can dimly make out one ghost, and while I cannot see them, for some reason I sense at least two others. I'm here to meet the new Dr. Fate - he has to be warned about the new unstable nature of magic*, as do you."
*as seen in the first issues of DCI 's Shadowpact series.
"Yes, time enough to talk about all that, I suppose. First things first, perhaps we should cross the street and introduce ourselves to the new Dr. Fate before Sargon shows up," Dr. Occult responded. The group nodded in agreement.
"Dr. Occult, it has been a long time," a new voice spoke up. The group turned, and were soon joined by the new speaker, the magician called Ibis the Invincible. He had his own small group accompanying him: Fred, Pedro and Slim of the Ghost Patrol.
"I have been asked to investigate on behalf of the Marvel family," Ibis said.
"Of course. You're just in time - we were about to - oh, wait, he has seen us," the ghost of Mister Thirteen said.
Ethan DID see the group from across the street.
Ethan looked them over: Two guys dressed like Humphrey Bogart. A guy in a business suit and turban. A King Arthur wannabe. Some retro superhero and kid sidekick team. Three guys in brown leather, high boots and breeches. All of them lit up, glowing around the edges like the words in the big book under his arm. With that realization, the book in his grasp stopped wiggling, stopped trying to free itself from his grip.
"Okay, I guess these are good guys. Finally, maybe some answers," Ethan thought and he walked into the street. The group on the other side also started to walk into the street, but suddenly Ethan and the book under his arm flew up in the air! The book freed itself from his loose grip, and the now-familiar sound of its massive pages turning filled Ethan's ears. "No - not yet - I haven't had time to think this through," Ethan thought.
Down on the street level, there was a sudden burst of thick, putrid smoke. Sargon, inhabiting the body of his servant, Kassadar, walked out from the midst of the cloud. His eyes were glowing, and his hands were engulfed in mystic white flames.
"I challenge this pretender for the right to bear Nabu's power. He is unprepared, unskilled, and does not accept the legitimacy of sorcery! I seek the right to combat him without interference, for the sake of all magic!" Sargon announced, pointing up at Ethan while looking at the crowd who had planned to greet him.
"This is bad form, Sargon," Dr. Occult answered "Sad enough that you've overwritten the spirit of your loyal servant, but to invoke such outdated and generally ignored -"
"SILENCE!" Sargon shouted.
The Book of Nabu lowered itself to Ethan's reading level. Glowing words greeting Ethan's eyes.
Ethan hesitated.
He did not want to be forced into using sorcery, made into a user of witchcraft like this. This wasn't the way the Almighty did things in his life. There was always a way out, he was never left without some option when it came to matters of right and wrong. Ethan needed time to think. He wouldn't use the book until he had time to think and pray about what using the book meant.
Ethan decided right then and there that he would not be forced by this book.
He knew that for certain, HE WOULD NOT BE FORCED.
Ethan opened his mouth and spoke one word.
"NO."
The pages of the Book of Nabu turned again, and the air between Ethan and Sargon began to shimmer, slowly solidifying into a giant open mouth, with row upon row of teeth, smiling. The mouth parted its jaws and revealed a pitch black throat - then three forms were belched from the mouth and landed on the street. One was unconscious, lying on the pavement, his metal electrogun-gun was torn to shreds around his arm, and his face was bruised. The second was cowering in fear, uncertain of what was happening. The third was dressed in green from the cowl on his head to the curling oriental boots on his feet. The mouth disappeared as suddenly as it had split the air.
The Green Lama looked - and looked and looked and looked. He had not seen anything other than The Forgetfulness for over sixty years. The blue skies of Salem were as welcome as a drink of water to a man dying of thirst. A tear fell from his eye as he realized that he had, at long last, escaped his place of captivity.
"I - I have returned," he said. The statement was part declaration and part question. The Green Lama took in the scene around him: A gathering of powerful souls, living and unliving, in front of a castle with no doors or widows. In front of him, a magician harnessed the deadly energy of the ancient white flames, prepared for battle. Above him, another mystic with a large book floated in the air.
"You've returned in time to watch this poor pretender die," Sargon said, and he let loose a sizzling bolt of flame, straight for Ethan.
TO BE CONTINUED