Month: May 2022

Isobel Dixon Memorial Hospital and Vanguard HQ, Astoria, OR
Thursday 11 July 2019 — 21:09

When the black cloaked and hooded figure stepped out of the deep shadows in the corner of his hospital room, the Gaoler was not surprised. Indeed, he had expect just such a visit sometime this evening, and had specifically asked the nurse to leave the lights off. “Good evening, Artemis,” he said quietly. No need to alert the nurses – or the two police officers posted just outside the door.

“Good evening Thomas,” she replied equally sotto voce. “I see you’ve been expecting me… although I rather expected to find you in the ICU.”

He smiled at her technique. Assume familiarity with the subject, put them at ease, throw them off guard, a solid tactic. For the guilty. “I prefer Gaoler, actually. I haven’t thought of myself as Thomas Desolano in… quite some time now. And your shaman does good work. After a little emergency surgery I was deemed well enough for this room in the High Security Ward.”

The lights of the medical monitors glinted in her emerald green eyes, and she smiled very slightly, nodding in acknowledgment. “As you wish, Gaoler. Although you may want to reconsider the wisdom of surrendering your humanity to your job. It is possible to do the one without giving up the other… and healthier, in the long run.”

That left him briefly nonplussed, but he shook it off with a dismissive wave of the hand unencumbered by the blood oxygen monitor. “I take it by your presence here, so soon after our last meeting, that you and your friends have taken care of that psychopathic little poltergeist Lazarus? Is he still… extant?”

Artemis shrugged. “For a given value of “extant,” yes. That little Box of the Gilead you provided proved quite useful, and his spirit is now safely imprisoned within. The Box and its contents occupies a high self in your Secure Vault tonight. Oh, and the rest of your “guests” remain in their accommodations as well, should you be wondering.”

Gaoler raised an eyebrow at that. “I would have thought you heroes would have stashed the Box in whatever trophy room your kind keep in your posh headquarters. Not to mention repatriating at least some of my prisoners. Does this mean—“

“Yes, we intend to return your Master Key to you,” Artemis cut him off, pulling the Key from a pouch at her waist. Never taking her eyes off his, she held it out, just beyond his grasp. Damn, there really was something inherently intimidating about her, and he didn’t think it was just that cloak of hers, however much his magic-trained eyes had trouble focusing on it. But he knew how to deal with intimidation, and he wasn’t bad at it himself. He didn’t reach for the Key.

“There are conditions, I assume?”

Artemis shrugged and stepped forward, dropping the gently-glowing artifact on its chain into his lap. He blinked in surprise, but quickly picked it up. “We recognize the difficulty of enforcing any agreement you didn’t enter into willingly, so why bother with imposing conditions? We are willing, however, to assume that you are a man of honor, and would trust you to abide by whatever mutually acceptable decisions we might come to, after reasonable discussion.”

“That is… unexpected. Usually you hero-types are so rigidly upright and inflexible… self-defeatingly so, I’ve often thought. So, what is it you might suggest?”

“What we would like most, is for you to stop taking people off the street who haven’t yet been tried for, much less convicted of, any crime. However certain you are of their guilt, let the justice system determine the fact of it. Essentially, act as a kind of bounty hunter, if you will, but leave the judgement and punishment to the courts.”

“That seems rather a lot to ask… and would leave the Cellblock rather empty.” He frowned as he hung the Master Key’s chain around his neck, letting the artifact rest on his breastbone. “And pointless. Even when the justice system actually works, you know as well as I that earthly prisons cannot hold some of the monsters they do manage to convict, not for long. And, at least in the West, they won’t deliver the ultimate penalty, even when it’s actually possible to do so.”

“I’m not going to debate the morality of the death penalty with you,” Artemis frowned herself, taking two steps back toward the shadows. “At least you haven’t crossed that line yourself, which is why we may yet reach some accommodation. As we’ve seen for ourselves in our visit to your Cellblock, you clearly have some method of circumventing many of the safeguards in even the Super Max prisons – hardly surprising, I suppose, given that you helped design most of them.

“So, if you were to take those convicted of the worst crimes, the ones most dangerous and difficult to hold, AFTER they have been properly convicted and sentenced, well… we cannot condone it, officially, of course. But we can choose to… de-prioritize such events. I suspect the US Government might also be willing to consider a similar unofficial stance in certain cases. Especially if you are willing to provide some method of contacting you, should the return of a particular prisoner be required — and your willingness to accommodate that request.”

The Gaoler was silent for a long moment, as he considered Artemis’ words. It was true, with the Key back in his possession he could now simply open a doorway and vanish. After she was gone, of course — for all his offhanded words about his health, in truth he was in no shape for another fight just then. But the Vanguard had saved him the months of effort, and from a prison cell, it would have taken him to recreate the artifact… and they had shown some good faith by leaving Lazarus imprisoned within the Cellblock… and by not releasing his other inmates.

He had in fact decided, some time ago, that he should be focusing his efforts on the most dangerous of meta-human and supernatural criminals. As much as corrupt or inept politicians and business people infuriated him, they truly were an intractable problem beyond his ability to deal with effectively. In general, he’d come to the realization that the so-called People would have to deal with that problem for themselves. But they needed to be alive, and not living in terror, to do so.

“Very well, Artemis,” he said, holding out his hand. “I think I can live with that arrangement, if you can.”

•• •• ••

“I take it you didn’t mention the fact that Quanta and I managed to make a copy of his Master Key,” Totem said a short time later, as the Vanguard gathered in the Ready Room to hear Artemis’ report on her visit to the Gaoler.

“I didn’t see the need,” Artemis shrugged. “He’s a smart man, however narrow his vision; I’m sure he assumes we’ve found some way of making sure we can come after him, if the necessity arises. Oh, and I expect we’ll be getting a—“

She was interrupted by the flashing of the red notification light from Dispatch. “Vanguard, we’ve just received word from SHADE. It seems the Gaoler has somehow escaped from the High Security Ward at Dixon Memorial.”

“Well, we’re committed now,” Quanta sighed. “I hope we don’t regret this. So, who gets to pop over and pretend to look for the nutter?”

“I suppose I am the logical choice, given the known magical nature of the Gaoler’s powers,” Totem sighed. “I know we want to contract Sabra regarding the Golden Helm, but it can wait until morning – we all need a good night’s sleep, it’s been a long day. The Powers-That-Be know we don’t need to face the kind of potential threat Dolórüska represents at anything less than our best.”

“I’ll come with you,” Scion said, his helmet flowing back up to cover his head. “The rest of you, get some sleep. We’re going to start hunting for that damn helmet bright and early in the morning.”

•• •• ••

It was agreed that best way to begin the search probably involved contacting Sabra, in the Dark World, although not everyone felt entirely comfortable with that. Nonetheless, after the catering staff had cleared away the remains of breakfast, Totem pulled out the Cheval Mirror and activated the arcane device.

“I’m guessing it’ll be another mystical Zoom call,” Chilz whispered to the Blue Flame.

Shortly after establishing a connection, the Vanguard once again found themselves in a misty void… today it was cool and gray, like an autumn afternoon following a good rain. Each of heroes stood on their own disk of what looked to be ancient stone, worn and softened with age, each one about a meter across.

The disks containing Totem, Artemis and Scion floated slightly ahead of, and a bit higher than, those of the rest of the team. Sabra herself stood atop an impressive stone pillar, easily three meters wide, which rose up from the mists just a bit higher than any of her guests’ disks. She was dressed in dark gray robes, trimmed in royal blue, and her black hair fell loose about her shoulders, bound only by the band of filigreed silver on her brow. She nodded graciously to her guests, a slight bow of her head.

“Totem, my Vanguard friends, how lovely it is to see you again so soon! I assume it is that massive spike in mystical energy that we felt, even across the dimensional planes, that is the reason for your visit today?”

“Yes, that’s true,” Totem replied, frowning. Perhaps it was just his recent, disconcerting conversation with Quanta, but something about his friend seemed just a little off. Not just the change in clothes, but her attitude… despite the friendly words, she seemed just a little… impatient, maybe?

Shrugging off his concerns, Totem gave Sabra a quick rundown of the Vanguard’s recent encounters with the machinations of the disembodied spirit of Killer Tot, ending with directly confronting him in the Cellblock as he struggled with the malevolent Atlantean artifact.

“…and it vanished the instant his full attention was pulled from it. Presumabley taking itself back to Earth, assuming our theory about it being an unintentional Arcane Ward, like Roland’s other, purpose-built ones.”

“Arcane Wards, eh?” Sabra actually smiled at that. “That’s so very Roland! I suppose I should be a little offended, that he thought I would need that kind of protection; after all, as it turned out I did just fine in preventing Varina from conquering Earth. With a little help from my friends, of course.” For a moment Totem saw his old friend in her face, as she’d always been. But the moment passed quickly, and her faced quickly darkened into a frown.

“But the Golden Helm of Dolórükas the Damed! That is a fearsome artifact, and much too dangerous to be left out in the world. While it’s true that Dolórüska cannot actually control the Helm while his spirit is trapped within it, I suspect in this instance he could at least influence where it appeared on its return to its native plane… and once here – that is, there – he can call out to receptive souls around him. And then, all bets are off…

“I’m very disappointed that you let it slip through your grasp… I expected better of you all by now!”

“I beg your pardon, young lady?” Artemis said coldly. Sabra’s frown deepened into a scowl at her tone. “As I believe Totem made very clear, the Helm was gone before we were even truly aware of it. And we realize full well the gravity of the situation, which is why we are here, consulting you. But if you have nothing to offer beyond insults…”

Sabra reddened, and for a moment she seemed her age, a young woman struggling in waters out of her depth. But she quickly got control of her features, and nodded stiffly to Artemis.

“My apologies, of course… that was uncalled for. But I hope you understand my deep concern in this matter. While I may no longer be the Magus Prime of our world, I nonetheless feel the pull of those responsibilities, even here.

“While I am concerned about who this “dark lady” of Percy Lazarus’ might be, the Golden Helm is the more immediate threat. This must be your top priority! Nothing else matters — you must find and recover the Helm at once!”

Before Artemis, or anyone else, could respond she seemed to realize she was being high-handed again, and quickly went on, directing herself to Totem.

“Cooper, I imagine that, with the increased power you absorbed from that incident with the Prime Element gem, you are especially attuned to the Earth just now… with that connection, between us I believe we can pinpoint the general area where the Helm returned to the Material Plane. If you’re willing to try.”

“Of course, Atara,” Totem nodded. “As Artemis said, that is why we’re here. I’m still struggling to integrate this new power, but I think you’re right, I definitely feel the presence of the Earth more strongly…”

At a gesture from Sabra, Totem’s disk floated up until it was even with her pillar, and he stepped off it to join her. A few minutes of quiet discussion, a joining of hands, and then a murmured ritual incantation – suddenly both sets of eyes took on a silver sheen, and it seemed the two mages looked out on vistas the others could not see.

“Yes, it pulses like an open wound.” Sabra said. “Can you see it, Küng?”

“Yes,” he answered almost absently. “It is in… New Atlantis, yes… somewhere south of Lake Tisqunatum…?

“Yes, and certainly on the west side of the Mullica River…” Sabra’s face took on a sardonic look. “Hardly surprising he would choose to return there, I suppose… so very many defeats suffered there to be avenged!”

After one last urgent admonition from Sabra to hurry and recover the Golden Helm before something truly dire happened, the mystical Zoom call faded away around the Vanguard, leaving them standing about the Round Table in their Ready Room.

“Yes, I know what you’re going to say,” Totem cut off Quanta as his teammate started to speak. “She was short tempered and high-handed. But when we were in communion, looking for the mystical hot-spot created by the Helm, I was in contact with her mind – I sensed nothing of Varina, or of anyone else. It’s just her in her head… and a great deal of stress and anxiety.

“I can’t say she isn’t changing, that’s obvious, but it’s also inevitable, under the circumstances. I plan to keep an eye on the situation, but I’m certain that your suspicions about her being Lazarus’ “dark lady” are incorrect.”

Quanta exchanged a look with Artemis, and shrugged. “If you say so, Cooper. You’re in a better position to know her mind than any of us. Maybe she’s just irritated with us because she thinks she could do a better job of managing this stuff than we’ve been doing.”

“Hmmm, what doesn’t she think she’s better than us at doing?” Scion laughed from where he was punching in the codes to remote-start the Interceptor.

“Losing fights, I suppose,” Quanta said with a grin. “But seriously, I hope you do keep an eye on her, Cooper… it really does seem like every time we see her, she’s just a little bit darker.”

•• •• ••

The sub-orbital flight from Oregon to New Jersey was quick and uneventful. It was just after noon, the sun glinting off the gold-hued marble of the Eternal Sentinel statue and the towers of the city across the harbor, as the Interceptor approached the roof-top landing pad on Alliance Hall. Scion, who had been scanning the local police frequencies in search of any unusual activity in the Southbank and Hollows districts, had a sudden hit.

“Cooper, didn’t you say you had a contact we should check out in Southbank? A place called Island Herbal?” he asked as they set down.

“Yes, Maire Otando runs the place… it’s a little import shop that sells various Caribbean brands, as well as herbs, candles, charms, and Voodoo religious items. It’s also an ounfò, a temple for the local Voodoo community and she’s its mambo… a religious leader. I think it’s a good place to start with, Madame Marie has always had her finger on the pulse of the street, both mundane and arcane, in her part of the city.”

“Well, you may be right,” Scion said, “I don’t really believe in signs, but I just found this on the scanners – Island Herbal was robbed last night, and a related police report from about an hour ago indicates that a young man who had been tending the shop, a college student named Tyler Attah, has been reported missing by his family, having never returned home after work at the shop last night.”

“That’s pretty surprising, actually… most of the local community are deeply protective of the place, and most of the petty crooks in Southbank fear Madame Marie’s reputation. As far as I know, the last time someone tried to rob it was more than a decade ago… and the guy who tried has been in Ravencliff Asylum ever since.

“So yes, I think we should check it out first. The shop is located on MLK Jr. Blvd, between Jamaica Avenue and Grenada Street. Can you open one your tunnels that far, Quanta?”

“Yeah, it’s only about three miles from here,” Quanta said, glancing at the city map on the holodisplay. “No problem.”

A few minutes later the Vanguard stepped out of Quanta’s shimmering silver portal onto a sidewalk in the working class district of Southbank. Neither the pedestrians on the wide, cracked pavement nor the six lanes of traffic streaming by on MLK, Jr. Blvd seemed to give them a second glance in the shimmering heat of the summer afternoon.

“Welcome to New Atlantis,” Chilz laughed, as they approached the glass doors to Island Herbal.

A “Sorry, We’re Closed, Please Call Again” sign hung crookedly in one door, but they were unlocked, and the heroes stepped into the shadowy shop… which was turned end-over-end. Loose papers and herbs covered the tables and floor, display cases were smashed, and mysterious stains and broken glass were everywhere.

“Don’t touch anything!” a middle-aged Black woman in colorful Caribbean skirts and a white blouse called out urgently from near the back of the space. “It’s not safe!” In safety gloves and a head wrap, she appeared to be carefully picking through the debris, a bandage obscuring part of her face.

“Madame Marie, it’s good to see you again,” Totem said, making his way through the wreckage toward his old acquaintance. “I’ve come with some friends, to see if you can help us.” He quickly introduced his teammates. “We can help you clean up, and then maybe you–“

“No, no, please don’t try to help… it’s very kind of you all, dear… and it’s good to see you, too,” the woman sighed and set down the large garbage bag she’d been filling. “But some of this is dangerous stuff, it’s best left to those who understand it to clean up! It was just a smash and grab… seems like that sort of thing is happening more and more around here these days.”

“Well, surely it was more than that, ma’am,” Artemis said. “I understand from the police report that one of your employees is missing… a Tyler Attah.”

“Police report?” The woman seemed momentarily flustered. “But… I haven’t filed a police report yet… I’m still trying to figure out what’s missing, as I clean up.”

“Ah, well, Tyler’s family filed a missing persons report this morning,” Scion offered, a bit distractedly. His sensors automatically scanned everyone he encountered, and he was getting a slightly odd reading off the woman. “Never came home, apparently, after working here last evening.”

“Oh, Tyler… but I haven’t seen her in several days, actually… that girl has just never been very reliable, if the truth be told.”

Everyone stiffened slightly at that, and Totem started to say something, but Quanta waved him back, stepping up to the older woman’s side.

“It looks like you were injured yourself,” he said, glancing at the mass of bandaging on the left side of her face. “Did the thieves do this to you?”

“Yes, they were quite violent,” she said, stepping back a nervous half step. “But it’s nothing, really… I just wanted to keep it covered while I cleaned.”

“Still, perhaps if I take a look… I’m pretty good at healing up physical trauma, I could at least take care of that problem for you.” Quanta reached out to touch the wrapping, and Madame Marie jumped back — three meters in a single leap. As the surprised heroes stared, her features flickered, flowed, and then steadied into a golden-eyed reptilian face, her skin suddenly greenish and scaly, and her hands gaining wicked-looking claws.

“A Serpent Person!” Totem cried, shocked into momentary inaction.

But Quanta had been prepared for something like this, and he was on her almost before the transformation was complete. The reptiloid was fast, however, and she grabbed at his arm, yanking him toward her. A mouth full of razor-sharp teeth opened wide and clamped down where his neck met his left shoulder… but they were unable to pierce the material of his quantum shell.

With a furious hiss, she shoved him away then, and leaped over an overturned table to her left, making for the front of the shop. The Blue Flame, reluctant to fully transform inside the shop, sent a blast of azure plasma at her, and while mystic sigils flared around her and absorbed most of the flame, she had definitely felt it.

Her leap over the last shattered counter between her and the front door was clumsy, and she staggered on landing. Artemis’ somersault over the same counter was anything but clumsy, and she came down on “Madame Maries’s” back. The imposter slammed hard into the floor, and before she could regain her feet Artemis had her in a choke hold.

When the Saurian’s struggles had faded into feeble twitching, Artemis tightly zip-tied it at wrists and ankles. It was always difficult to tell with Saurians what gender they were just by outward appearance, but she had an intuition that this one might actually be female.

By the time the creature began to revive, Totem had added mystical bindings to its, maybe her, restraints. He was taking no change on any teleportation spells at this point. “Where is the real Madame Marie?” he barked at the prisoner, looming over her with all the menace he could muster. The Saurian just glared at him and hissed.

“Totem, my sensors are picking up labored breathing, and an irregular heartbeat from a back room, there,” Scion said, pointing to the door marked Employees Only. “Why don’t you go see if it’s your friend; whoever it is, help them, OK?”

With a curt nod the shaman turned and headed for the back room, which he knew housed the ounfò, the voodoo alter, of his friend. Artemis took his place, pulling the glaring Saurian up into a sitting position and propping her against a cabinet. She leaned in close as she did so.

“Tell us who you are, and your purpose here, lizard, or I’ll rip those scales off of you one by one. And you may be sure I will do so very, VERY slowly. We have all the time in the world, you and I…” A small blade was suddenly in her hand, and she ran it lightly along the side of the creature’s face.

For the first time the Serpent Person’s glaring mask slipped, and it seemed suddenly uncertain. It quickly regained some composure, however, and gave a very human-like shrug.

“Fine,” it hissed. “You mammals will never be able to stop it now anyway! I am Sineerie, Lesser Priestess of the Ophidian Cult. We are the true heirs of lost Lemuria… and the exterminators of cursed Atlantis and all its wretched legacy!

“The prophetic dreams of High Priest Astarmis brought us to the Golden Helm when it manifested itself. Dolórüska’s Helm is ours now, and so we have the old Atlantean heretic at our mercy! We will use the Helm to place his spirit in a mortal vessel — and then we shall annihilate body, helm, and foul soul all together, finally ridding ourselves of the ancient enemy once and for all time!”

Her snake-like golden eyes narrowed suddenly, and she sneered at Raven, lurking in the shadows behind his comrades. Totem had found the real Madame Marie bound, gagged, and groggy, but alive, next to her alter. A quick Spell of Healing had cleared the remaining Saurian venom from her system, and once he was sure she was OK he had summoned Raven. His ability to seize and read minds might prove very useful, he’d thought as he stalked back out to the main room.

“I can feel you in my head, fumbling about, little human godling,” Sineerie laughed. “Your pathetic powers will never be enough to pierce my mental shields. But as I said, there is no need – you cannot stop us at this point, although I hope you try. My brethren will enjoy killing you all, on top of our great victory! Ask your questions, I will answer them.”

“Where is Tyler Attah, the human you took from this place last night,” Artemis asked, still crouched in front of the Saurian priestess. “Is he still alive? Why did you take him?”

“Ah, the mammal apprentice had a name? No matter. We needed a mystically inclined vessel to host Dolórüska’s spirit, and that one would serve well enough, just as the other tools we looted from this hovel would serve. Better, as the creature’s magical skill was minimal, so the ancient one would have little to work with, in those moments between awakening in the body and it’s destruction. By now the human is as dead as Dolórüska, great Astarmis will have seen to that.”

“Who is this Astarmis, and where can we find him.”

“Astarmis is our faithful master, our glorious High Priest, and a male of great vision! Astarmis has led the Ophidiana under your human noses for decades… we move with impunity through your filthy city, and erase the taint of Atlantis at will! And now his prophetic dream has given us our greatest triumph!

“As to where you will find him, and your own deaths,” the Saurian face was not built to smile, but Sineerie bared her teeth in obvious mirth, “the ritual took place in the old caverns. There is a secret entrance in the swamps northwest of here, beyond a flood-control tunnel near the railroad tracks. But it makes no difference, as I said — by now my brethren have completed the rites and will welcome witnesses to our glory… before they slay you as well!”

When it was clear the Saurian had nothing more useful to impart, Artemis stood and Raven put the priestess to sleep with a mental command.

“Well, I for one would like to recognize, officially, that this Saurian has been the most forth-coming captive we have ever questioned,” Quanta said.

“Yes, let’s give her a fruit basket,” Scion said. “I just hope she’s mistaken about the Attah boy. And that we can save him, if they’ve already put that damn helmet on him. We need to get moving, I’ve got the spot she mentioned up on the comms map…”

“Yes, please save Tyler, if it’s not too late,” Madame Marie said. She had come out from the ounfò once she’d fully recovered, and caught the last of the interrogation. “I’ve heard rumors about this Ophidian Cult before—a militant offshoot of the larger Brood of the Bronze Talon. Even more than most Serpent Folk, they revere their lost Lemuria almost as a divine figure in itself. And unlike most others of their kind, they actually embrace the mistaken comparison to modern reptiles, especially snakes — they’re crazy, even by Saurian standards. Be careful!”

Once they’d made sure the irascible, but grateful, Madame Marie was really OK, and she’d given them a photo of the missing Tyler, Quanta opened another of his tunnels, this time to the edge of the South Leni-Lenape Wetlands.

“So, are these Saurians susceptible to cold, like reptiles?” Chilz asked as they stepped through into the fetid smells of the marsh. “If so this should be a pretty quick fight.”

“Well, they’re not cold blooded,” Quanta replied as he closed the portal behind them, “but they’re not warm blooded either. They’re mesotherms, somewhere in the middle. Which means they probably won’t like your cold, Chilz, but it’s also not going to just drop them into hibernation. Unfortunately.”

It didn’t take long to find the entrance to the New Deal-era flood-control tunnels, just beyond the main railroad line into the city. The Ophidian cultists had made no effort to cover their tracks, and the Vanguard had no trouble following them. The aging concrete and steel walls eventually gave way to tunnels drilled through bare rock, and finally to rough-hewn stairs leading deeper into the earth.

“Jeeze, I know it’s summer in New Jersey,” Chilz muttered to the Blue Flame. “But I swear it’s getting warmer, and more humid, the deeper we go.”

“You’re not wrong,” BF agreed, shrugging. “Not that it bothers me, of course, but this heat does seem… unnatural. Saurian magic, maybe?”

After several minutes of cautiously advancing, the twisting, turning natural caverns finally opened into a large chamber, where six columns carved in spiraling snake motifs upheld a rough dome of stone. Crates, maps, newspaper clippings, discarded tablets, and old bones were scattered about, and a massive altar shaped like an enormous cobra stood in the center of the space. An eerie, bilious green light emanated from the altar, and several lines of the same sickly light outlined arcane hexes on the floor. The smell of charred meat hung thick in the air.

“Well, this sure looks like the place,” the Blue Flame said as Artemis and Scion cautiously led the way into the chamber. “But where is everybody? I was expecting more of a party atmosphere, you know.”

“That’s a good question—“ Artemis started to say.

“Wait, my sensors are picking up—“ Scion began.

Before either could finish their sentence there was a shifting blur in the air within the glowing green hex shapes, and suddenly monstrous creatures were visible — and rushing towards the heroes. There were three of the things… sort of.

Each creature had two heads and four legs, but only two arms… they seemed fused together at the rather wide torso, from neck to hip. The sinuous, rolling gait of their four legs looked awkward, and yet they moved shockingly fast. The closest one was on Artemis before even her reflexes had time to fully absorb what was happening.

She easily dodged under the first snarling head as it lunged forward to bite, its mouth full of glistening teeth, but the second head, and its equally lethal-looking teeth, barely missed her arm. She tucked and rolled, coming up and whirling around, escrima sticks out, her cape flaring behind her like wings.

The second beast was on Scion at almost the same instant. He deflected the first bite with an armored fist to one head, but the second head struck too quickly, powerful jaws and venomous teeth coming down on his left forearm. Alarms began going off in his helmet at the sudden, intense pressure, and he actually felt it through the metal. He tried to yank the arm free, but the creature was tenacious — and strong.

Clawed hands wrapped around his torso as the thing savaged one arm while his other held off the gnashing teeth of the first head. With a flick of an eye towards his HUD, Scion opened a certain circuit, and when he released a full-body bio-electric burst it was transferred through the armor and amplified. With a shriek the monster let go and staggered back… but it was clearly more surprised than injured. It crouched, preparing to leap back onto him… and Scion went invisible, shooting straight up at the same time.

Raven, whose own mystical senses had warned him of the camouflaged creatures an instant before they’d moved, had immediately gone invisible as well, leaving an illusory doppelgänger stand-in on the other side of the team, next to Scion. This gave him a moment to study the… whatever the Sacred Fire they were. Saurians, clearly, but he had never heard of any such mutations… and as he watched, it suddenly came to him in flash of realization.

These were not natural beings, not even mutations. There were, or had been, six Saurians here, and not that long ago by the mystic traces he was now sensing. Something – or someone – had fused them into these grotesque monstrosities. And it was increasingly clear that they were in a great deal of pain… which was at least partly driving their frenzied attacks.

Maybe the Sleeping Mists of Elyn could solve all their problems, at least for the moment. Let the shining green drops fall, and send the creatures off to a pain-free slumber… while protecting young Küng’s friends from their attacks, of course. Unfortunately, whatever spell-driven horror powered that pain, it was too strong for the Mists to penetrate. The monsters slowed, briefly, but didn’t succumb.

Quanta, who had been several paces behind Scion and Artemis, timed his moment carefully – and when Scion vanished and Artemis rolled aside, he dropped a quantum matter block on the two monsters they’d been fighting. To his considerable annoyance, they both raised clawed fists and simply shattered the construct in midair.

Even more annoying, not to mention surprising, was the third beast. Some sort of camouflaging seemed to be at work, he barely saw the thing as it leaped onto one of the pieces of his shattered block and used it as a spring board to leap for his throat. But even as it kicked off, the quantum matter beneath its clawed feet vanished back into the sub-atomic foam, and its leap turned into more of a stumbling half-fall. One head hit the floor, hard, while Quanta spun away deftly from the second’s gnashing jaws.

As much as he disliked flying under his own power, elevation seemed the wisest course just now, Quanta realized, and took to the air…

Chilz had taken to the air almost at once, rising up on a column of ice to get a better view of the tactical situation. He was torn between that very ominous looking, eerily pulsing statue in the center of the cavern, and his friends. When the lizard-mutant battling Artemis sank its teeth into her foot, the matter resolved itself instantly.

Swooping down he hefted a wooden keg off the floor – it was heavy, full of something liquid by the way it moved — and hurled it at the monster. The barrel hit it full in the back, shattering and drenching it — with nothing more interesting than water. Damn! But it had staggered the creature, enough to release Artemis’ foot, at least…

She leaped straight back at the creature as the water dripped down its flanks, and drove her blue-sparking escrima sticks into its torso. Arcs of blue-white electricity engulfed the Saurian mutant, and its hideously merged body arched and twitched, its face locked in a silent rictus scream. And then it was down and out of the fight.

When Scion had vanished, gone suddenly invisible, his opponent had looked around in frustration, and locked on to Raven as its next target. Both heads scored savage blows on the prey… but to the creature’s consternation, there was nothing there… no blood, no flesh to inject the venom into… in a redoubled frenzy, it lashed out at the smirking mammal again and again…

While it was engaged with its illusory foe, Scion loosed a stream of stun balls at the Saurian, and launched a tangle-field for good measure. Some sixth sense seemed to warn the creature, however, and it dodged the shimmering net. The stun balls hit, but it hardly seemed to notice.

From four meters up, Quanta gestured down at the third Saurian mutant, and a shimmering silver cocoon of quantum carbon began to form around it. But the creature slashed at the field, shredding the material before it could solidify… and to Quanta’s shock, it leaped straight up at him!

From a standing start, the monster jumped an astonishing distance, and its massive clawed hands wrapped around Quanta’s right leg. He staggered in the air and dropped a bit under the added weight, but almost instinctively he shifted his quantum shell to an entirely frictionless state. The look on both the Saurians’ faces as its hands slid down his leg and it plummeted to the floor was almost worth the heart attack it had almost given him with that jump.

Goddamn it, he should know better than to fly! Yes, he was getting better at it, no doubt… as long as that was all he was doing. Add in anything else more complicated than chewing gum (and maybe not even that), and everything suffered. But just to be sure, he added another two meters to his elevation… lets see one of the mutants make that jump!

Seeing that Artemis was apparently unharmed – that shadow material of hers must really be tough, if those razor-like teeth couldn’t pierce it – Chilz turned his attention back to the cobra statue. Something about it creeped him out, and he’d been right about that demonic statue back in the Cellblock… was that only yesterday? Better safe than sorry…

A minute later, the statue was encased in three feet of solid ice, and the green glow was suddenly almost cheery-looking beneath it. It might be hot as hell in here, Chilz thought, but it’s so humid I’ve got lots of moisture to work with… and that’s all I need.

The Blue Flame, shocked at the sudden violence that had erupted around him, had taken a moment to get his head in the game. But as the monster that had leaped up to grab Quanta fell back to the ground, he sprang into action.

Bursting into his full plasma form, he threw himself at the dazed lizard-hydra-thing, his Flame Katana springing to life in his hand. He never gave the creature a chance to recover, his searing strikes driving it back until it was up against the ice-encased statue. Letting his katana flow back into himself, BF formed a massive, fiery fist, and with one last roundhouse punch he laid out the second mutant.

Raven, Artemis, and a still invisible Scion had been working on the third monster, to little effect – he seemed faster, more cunning, and stronger than the other two. From his position high above, Quanta decided to give it one more go…

I’m hovering, that takes no real effort, and barely any concentration. OK, take a deep breath, focus on containing that scaly bastard…

The shimmering quantum encasement field materialized… almost a meter to the left of his target.

Fine, he could take a hint. The others seemed to have it under control, anyway. Maybe he would be more useful studying that damn snake statue with the nauseating green glow… even if it was now encased in a meter of ice…

“Chilz, stop playing with that statue,” Artemis called over comms. “Can you replicate that stunt with the water barrel on this last beast?”

“Ah, that’s a big 10-4, boss lady – I see another barrel on the other side of the cave… hold on just a sec…”

Raven had been attempting to seize the mind of the last Saurian guardian, but it was proving exceedingly difficult. While it was one body now, there were still two minds controlling it… two minds, but they too were fused at some deep psychic level. It made control almost impossible – just when he thought he had a hook in one mind, power would surge up from the other mind, breaking his grip…

Scion was having almost as hard a time on the physical side of things. Every time he got a decent hold on the beast, it would manage to slip through or break his grip. Artemis’ Shadow Stick and escrima attacks didn’t seem to faze it, and he was beginning to wonder if he’d have to switch to some really lethal attacks, when Chilz dove in from his left, smashing a barrel of water against the Saurian’s exposed back.

But even as the wooden planks shattered against its steel-like hide, the creature whirled and one of its heads sank its teeth into the ice-man’s leg. Ice splintered and cracked, and Chilz felt a dark warmth, but of course no pain. As he kicked the thing in the head with his other foot, freeing himself and coming down several yards beyond the struggle, he could see a dark stain within the ice of his leg.

The venom from the bite? Probably, but since he didn’t have a circulatory system in this form, it wasn’t able to do anything to him. Probably. But when he turned back to his meat form… well, better to not take any chances. Casting about, he found a bent crow bar and began chipping away at his leg, carving out the ice with the dark stain…

Meanwhile, Artemis and Scion had double-teamed the soaked Saurian, simultaneously releasing dual electrified attacks. As its body twisted and writhed, the Blue Flame swooped down and and unleashed a Plasma Blast at point blank range. No creature, however impressive a specimen it was, could withstand such a combined mental and physical bombardment, and in seconds the Saurian’s smoking body was twitching convulsively on the stoney ground.

“Good team effort, guys,” Scion panted over the comms as they stared down at the defeated Saurian, catching their collective breath. Raven gave a mocking slate, and morphed back into to Totem, who began binding the unconscious creatures in azure bands of particularly strong mystical energy.

Chilz, having excised the tainted ice from his leg and then reformed the missing mass from the ambient moisture, was about to rejoin the team when he thought he heard something coming from the back of the cavern… a faint, feminine-sounding cry for help. Was there a damsel in distress in all this mess?

“Guys, I’m hearing someone, sounds like a woman, calling for help,” Chilz called over comms as he began studying the back wall of the cavern. By the time the others had joined him, he had outlined what he thought were the dimensions of a stone door set very tightly into the stone wall.

“Give me some time, I’m sure I can figure out the proper spell to open–“ Totem began, before Scion stepped up to the door, dug his metal fingers into the stone, and pulled. With a grinding sound the door began to shift outward, and then, which a sharp crack, it split in two. Scion tossed the crumbling pieces to either side and stepped into the small room revealed.

“Or we could do it that way,” Quanta laughed, craning over Totem’s shoulder to see into the room.

A rail-thin woman, with dark, classical features and thick black hair lay in a heap on the stone floor. She was wrapped in heavy iron chains, weighing her down to the point she could barely sit up. The sorceress Medea sighed, and with a wry grimace said, “Well, this is a rather awkward way to meet again, isn’t it?”

“What the hell are you doing here, Medea?” Scion demanded, as the others crowded in behind him. The ancient Greek sorceress could do little more than tilt her head, yet she somehow managed to convey infinite patience in the face of stupid questions.

“Isn’t it obvious, my dear? These sectarian serpents needed a magical patsy into whom they could resurrect that bastard Dolórüska. But they ended up going with the shop boy… I suppose they thought my body would’ve made the old goat too powerful, too quickly, whereas the boy would leave him relatively helpless, at least long enough to dispatch him. Or maybe they just don’t like their liches… curvaceous. Who can say for sure?”

“That hardly explains how you, of all people, happened to be one of the two people they captured for use in their ritual,” Artemis snapped. “Try again.”

“Are you always so humorless, Artemis?” Medea sighed. “Fine, fine… the truth is, I sometimes have visions of certain mystical events, and I had one yesterday regarding the reappearance of that moldy old Atlantean’s fancy headgear. The last thing I wanted was seeing that pile of bones reanimated again — talk about humorless, he makes Artemis look like Lucille Ball. So, I made haste to recover it before some hapless mortal slapped it on their head, thereby turning their bad day into the whole world’s bad day.

“Unfortunately, that scaly High Priest Astarmis apparently also has prophetic dreams, and he and his little band of psycho serpent cultists were closer. I arrived just in time to see them make off with the Golden Helm. I followed, of course, in case the opportunity arose to snatch it… and, I admit, out of simple curiosity. Given the snake boys’ unrelenting hatred of all things Atlantean, I did wonder what they were up to.

“Even more unfortunately, from my point of view, was the very keen senses of those savage beasts the Ophidian’s keep… and a particularly effective mystical trap. You’re welcome, by the way — my tripping it meant you didn’t have to face it on your own way down here, as they never had a chance to reset it, given subsequent events.”

“Yes, what exactly were those ‘subsequent events?’ What went down back there?” Scion asked, jerking a thumbs over his shoulder toward the ritual cavern.

“Poetry? Classic tragedy? A textbook example of hubris? However one cares to interpret it, really it’s just a bit of Serpent Folk ego run amok. These snakes actually thought they could destroy Dolórüska after releasing him from his Helm, and destroy the Helm itself. Surprise, surprise, it will come as no shock that they were wrong. Spectacularly wrong, actually. The old mage managed to usurp the entire cult in less than a minute —quite the impressive feat, that, really — and then he left, with his new minions slavishly in tow.”

“Fantastic!” Totem groaned. “So not only is Dolórüska reborn, but he’s got a small army of Serpent Folk under his command now. I don’t suppose you have any idea where they’ve gone, or what he’s planning?”

“Well, it’s entirely possible I might… indeed, it’s possible I might possess information you’d find quite interesting… even vital. But it’s so difficult to think, what with these nasty iron chains weighing me down…”

“Er, yes, I’m not sure why we seem to be participating in this Kinbaku,” Quanta said, causing the Blue Flame to snort-laugh and Artemis to give him a Look. He shrugged. “We’re doing to have to make a decision on what to do with her, assuming we’re not just going to leave her here to die.”

“True,” agreed Artemis. “ But I’m not inclined to simply unbind her and trust to her notably absent goodwill to prevent her attacking us. Assuming she even knows where Dolórüska has gone, or what his plans are…”

“A fair point, I suppose,” Medea conceded. “Very well, let me give you a taste. You see, he’s really not a quiet man, our Dolórüska. Loves a good monologue, even more than the next supervillain. In his rantings, once he’d ensnared the Ophidians, it became clear that he seems to think he senses the spirit of a powerful mage bound to the world’s mystic energy — the late Roland Reid, or so he says — and he’s got it in his head to bind the man’s spirit as his personal servant. No doubt there’s some larger, droll scheme to “take over the world” or some such, but really, I stopped listening at that point.

“So, I suppose you’ll be wanting a hand in averting that whole enslave-the-sprit-of-dear-departed-Roland thing. Dolórüska is no kitten, to be sure, but Dolórüska on his own is considerably less concerning than Dolórüska backed by the power of another Magus Prime. Not that you need my guidance, I’m sure. You’re the superheroes here, after all. Now where do you suppose he’s hiding? I can’t seem to recall if he ranted about that little detail…”

“Is it possible that Roland’s spirit is still connected somehow to this plane,” Artemis asked Totem, gesturing everyone out of the smaller room and into the larger cavern, leaving the bound demi-goddess peering after them in annoyance.

“I… I don’t see how. I was there when the Powers-That-Be settled the mantle on Sabra, and I sensed Roalnd’s presence there, with so many other Magi Prime who’d come before. But perhaps, with his Arcane Wards, meant to protect the Earth from a magical take-over… maybe they actually tied him to this plane somehow? I just don’t know…”

“Can we take the chance?” Scion asked. “Even if it isn’t Reid’s spirit, or soul, or whatever that’s trapped in the ether, we can’t risk that madman enslaving whoever, or whatever, it might really be… especially if it involves his gaining additional powers.”

“But how do we know we can trust Medea?” the Blue Flame asked. “It’s not like we can afford a magical knife in the back at the critical moment, you know?”

“Oh, my darlings! You absolutely should NOT trust me” Medea called from the other room. “I’m out for my own ends here, to be sure. It just happens that today we share a common enemy… and a very powerful one. The more of us working together to take him down, the more likely we are to succeed. And really, the one thing you can always trust me to be is petty and vengeful.

“So, if it will help move things along,” craning her neck, she caught Totem’s eye, “I swear by Hecate, by Aunt Circe, and by the thousand witches of Colchis to lay no spell against your flesh or soul without your consent before the new moon’s rise, and if I am forsworn, may the Furies devour my soul. Happy?”

“Scion?” Artemis asked.

“Just a second… yes, the new moon rises at 05:00 tomorrow morning. Actually, that somehow makes me more inclined to believe she’s being honest — it’s not like she’s swearing eternal loyalty, just 15 hours of cooperation.”

“The truth is, that oath really does bind her,” Totem offered. “For her to break it would bring down consequences so dire that even she would hesitate to face them. I think we can trust her in this.”

While the others weighed the pros and cons of freeing Medea, Chilz leaned in to whisper to Quanta. “Dude, why do you have that dopey grin on your face? Do you not believe her?”

“No, no, I believe she’ll keep her precise oath. I just think it’s really cool that she’s Circe’s niece.”

Once Scion had snapped the iron chains that bound the witch, Medea stood and stretched… and Artemis silently rolled her eyes as all the men drooled, at least metaphorically.

“Ah, that’s leagues more comfortable, thank you! Now, I suppose a deal’s a deal, so…

“Dolórüska did mention the Vandergraff House in his tedious diatribe. It’s an old estate on North Hill, built on a nexus of ley lines… it will certainly provide him with all the spare magical energy he’ll need for the ritual he proposes to invoke. I used the place as a hideout myself a few times back in the ‘70s. As did several other mystical types, over the years. It has a lovely view over the Palisades.”

“How does he plan to achieve this supposed enslavement of Arkanos’ soul,” Scion asked as she slipped past him through the doorway, patting his armored shoulder and giving him a demur smile.

“Some sort of old Atlantean ritual, much like the one that transformed him from a Master Mage into an immortal spirit in a decaying corpse 20,000 years ago. Actually, it’s quite similar to an old Cretan ritual I know… so it’s one that I could almost certainly disrupt, given the opportunity…”

“Why are you so hot to finish off the old guy?” Chilz asked, still suspicious of the Greek sorceress. “I’d have thought you magical sorts would stick together.”

“Like all the non-magical sorts do?” Medea actually laughed, a full-throated and deeply seductive sound. “Please, look what he did to me, leaving me bound in iron, and at the mercy of those hideous Serpent warriors he fused together on a whim! Even after I’d offered my services in his efforts – for some reason he didn’t fully trust the sincerity of my proposal. Well, rightly so, of course, I never swore him any oaths. But still…

“Besides, I really don’t appreciate being the second-string sorcerer in town… the old man isn’t exactly low key, and it will be so much worse if he gains even more power. But beyond all that, Dolórüska is simply an ass, and I would love being there to see the look on his face when he goes down – again. Even if it means enduring a little detente in this… special something we all share.”

“Enough,” Artemis said. “If there’s any chance of his pulling off this ritual… and how do we know he hasn’t already done so?… we need to move quickly.”

“Oh, we’d know,” Medea declared. “The whole world would likely know. But not to worry, my dears, the ritual requires a sky both moonless and sunless to work. We’ve hours yet before he can do more than prepare.”

“Assuming she’s right about all this, we do have some time,” Scion said. “Moonset is at 19:04, sunset follows at 20:26. And I’d rather not rush headlong into this mess for once, if we can avoid it.”

“Agreed,” Artemis said. “So let’s spend our time devising a plan of action, while Medea tells us everything she knows about the layout of this Vandergraff House. But first, I do have one question, for my own curiosity, Medea – how did you escape after we we captured you during your raid on the Sanctum?”

“Oh, how I envy your youthful optimism, Artemis,” Medea laughed. “If Vitruvian and even Hades himself can’t keep me locked down, surely you didn’t expect those charming boys and girls at SHADE to hold me for long? I would have escaped them soon enough, of course, but that dreary little Englishman, the Gaoler, made it ever so much easier when he tried to add me to his little extra-dimensional collection of miscreants.”

Shortly after that the seven retreated, via quantum tunnel, to the air conditioned, if slightly cramped, comfort of the Interceptor, where they spent the next several hours devising a strategy to penetrate whatever defenses the insane lich may have placed around his new lair. Once they’d prepared as much as possible, there was nothing to do but wait.

As the others tried to relax in their jumpseats, Chilz approached the Greek sorceress where she sat in the cockpit, next to a helmet-less Scion, both staring silently out at the early evening cityscape across the harbor. Clearing his throat, he tapped her on the shoulder.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking,” he said quietly. “You say you can disrupt this ritual of his, but can you, can we, turn it around, instead? Use it to actually bring back Roland Reid? Actually resurrect him, I mean?” Scion seemed surprised at the question, but Medea just smiled.

“Well, anything is possible with that positive, go-get-‘em attitude of yours, my dear. But perhaps you should consider this — Dolórüska came back more corrupt, power-hungry, and evil than ever before… and quite utterly damned. Is that really something you’d want to risk for such a beloved hero? There really are things worse than death, child.”

“Ah. I hadn’t considered the Pet Semetary possibility,” Chilz said, clearly disturbed. “Well, maybe it’s not such a good idea.” With a nod to Scion he walked slowly back to his own seat, settling in with a thoughtful look on his face.

“That does bring up a question I’ve been thinking about,” Scion said after he was gone. “Can we save Dolórüska’s current host, the kid Tyler?”

The question seemed to genuinely surprise Medea, and he rather thought it startled her into a fully truthful answer. “I… yes, it might be possible. When his host body is killed, his spirit is forced back into the Golden Helm; that is, of course, how he survives. But it’s the driving him out while the host is still alive that’s the tricky bit…

“Of course, if his spirit is already over-extended from, say, working a powerful and draining ritual… well then, simply defeating him might trigger the same reflex, forcing him to retreat to the safety of his Helm. It would certainly be a gamble, though — safer by far to simply destroy the body.”

Scion said nothing, simply staring at her for a moment, before nodding and turning back to look out the window at the setting sun. Medea too turned back to the window, looking oddly unsettled…

•• •• ••

The last glow of the setting sun was still lingering in the western sky when the Vanguard and their unlikely ally stepped from one of Quanta’s portals into the shadows between two buildings across the street from the Vandergraff House. This was a two-story Regency-style mansion, set in the middle of a relatively large estate and surrounded by low stone walls. Warm lights shone from the windows of the house, while softer, indirect key lights illuminated the formal gardens. A carriage house could be seen beyond the driveway and circular courtyard in front of the building, and beyond the gatehouse from the street they could see a large round reflecting pond filled with lily pads.

The could also see figures dressed in colonial-era costumes wandering the grounds, scowling and glancing suspiciously around as they made their rounds. “Oh, that’s not suspicious at all,” the Blue Flame said. “I know the place is a living history museum now, but why would they have guys in period costumes patroling at night, when there’s no one to see them?”

“And why are they packing anachronistically modern heavy pistols?” Artemis added. “Also… look closely at the way they move…the illusion of humanity isn’t bad, but they still move with that unconscious, sinuous grace of the Serpent Folk.”

Totem had confirmed Medea’s assertion that the house itself was warded against inward-bound teleportation. While they could have subdued the faux security guards, it would almost certainly have raised the alarm within the house… which meant they’d have to do the infiltration the old fashioned way. It was a tense several minutes as the group made their way stealthily over the wall, past the exterior guards, and into the mansion itself, but the operation went off without a hitch.

Once inside the house, they had an easier time avoiding the four disguised Serpent Folk patrolling its many velvet-roped rooms – Medea was certain that the ancient wizard would have set up shop in the sub-basement, it being the ideal place to perform his ritual. She led them straight to the semi-hidden door in the kitchen pantry that accessed the upper basement.

Wide wooden stairs dropped steeply into the mansion’s main basement, which was essentially an expansive, subterranean warehouse, forty feet across and twice as long. Aging stone and mortar walls supported a ceiling ten feet overhead, and the floor was close-fitted flagstone. Informative plaques marked several dusty, threadbare antiques stuffed in various nooks, but half the basement was given over to modern amenities, such as plumbing, the breaker box, and an emergency generator.

The other half was filled with a crowd of angry Serpent Folk.

Although blocking the way further into the basement, the dozens of milling Saurian’s did not immediately leap to attack. This puzzled the Vanguard, until thousands of writhing snakes began to pour from every crevice and crack in the old stonework… in less than a minute, the snakes had assembled themselves into a roughly humanoid form — an extremely unsettling sight to everyone except Medea.

“Oh, yes, I forgot to mention,” she offered at her companion’s horrified looks. “That’s what Dolórüska did to Astarmis, once he had the cult under his sway… turned their high priest into an aggregate creature made entirely of snakes. One wonders how much of lizard boy’s mind is left in there…”

The question was at least partially answered when the nauseatingly shifting figure held up a gold helmet handed to it – him? – them? by one of the minions.

“Ha! Human fools,” a thousand hissing voices cried in terrible unison from the swarm-creature. “You would seek to free your master, Dolórüska? Well, you shall not succeed! He is our prisoner now, and soon we will destroy him utterly! After all, we have this!” He held the gold helmet triumphantly above his head.

“Um, you do realize that’s just a wooden helmet, painted gold, right?” the Blue Flame asked hesitantly into the silence that followed, glancing at Medea. “He does know, right?”

Whatever the creature that had once been Astarmis might have been expecting, it apparently wasn’t this. The writhing mass of snakes seemed momentarily nonplussed as it stared at the object in its “hands.”

“He’s right,” Artemis said, quickly following up on the creature’s momentary confusion. “You’re being controlled by your ancient enemy, High Priest Astarmis. Look at what he’s done to your body… surely you were not always like… this?”

“I… no, you mammal’sss sseek to confussse ussss… we are… I am asss I have alwaysss been…” but his hissing certainty was undercut by the sideways look he cast at his minions, who shuffled in confusion behind and to either side of him. “When we perform the ritual—“

“You’ve already performed the ritual, do you not remember?” Totem took up the thread. “In your deep cavern, under the green eyes of your cobra idol, you placed the real Golden Helm on the human youth you took from that shop. And Dolórüska awoke…”

“Yesss, we… he… why iss it sso hard for usss to think? We mussst dessstroy the Atlantean betrayer… and thief… but he… what hassss he done to ussss?!” That last was a wailing cry, and the snake-thing flung the false helm to the floor, where it bounced and then rolled away into the shadows.

“He has betrayed you yet again,” Chilz roared suddenly, as he rose on a pillar of ice so that his head almost brushed the ceiling. All of the Saurians flinched and hunched down for an instant. “He MUST be destroyed! Tell us where he is so we can destroy him… do not fight for him, do not make us destroy you first!”

That seemed to finally break the Serpent priest’s resolve, and he hissed some unintelligible order to his small army. As the Vanguard stood aside, the Saurian’s moved past them and up the stairs, casting malevolent glares at the mammals, but making no hostile move. Snake-Astarmis was the last, and as he slithered/strode up the stairs he hissed a last warning.

“If you do not destroy the ancient betrayer, mammals, as you promise, be sure that I and my Ophidians will hunt you to the ends of the Earth, and you will pay for your perfidy!” And then he too was gone.

“Where’s our girl Medea?” Quanta asked suddenly. He hadn’t seen her since the confrontation with the snake guys had begun, and she’d been strangely quiet during the encounter.

“I’m right here, my dear,” the sorceress said, stepping out of the shadows to his left. “I felt it best if the lizards didn’t see me… I thought you’d all do better talking them down without me dredging up old memories.” She ran a finger down his silvery cheek and tapped one enameled nail on his chin. “And I’m neither yours, nor a girl… something you might want to keep in mind, dear.”

She continued on into the basement proper, gesturing for the Vanguard to follow. “As I recall, the hidden entrance to this place’s real power locus is in this corner, behind that pile of crap… my, they really have let this place go to the dogs since the last time I was here.”

As she’d said, a hidden door revealed a wide set of spiral stone stairs winding down into flame-lit dimness. The sound of low, guttural chanting drifted up, growing louder as the heroes moved down the into the sub-basement, Medea following behind.

Flickering candles illuminated a large circular room, perhaps 25 meters across, and the smells of herbs, smoke, and sweet liqueurs were heavy in the air. Six massive crystals lined a circle of runes, fifteen feet across, scribed on the ground at the center of the place, directly beneath the carved stone dome that rose more than 10 meters above. The crystals pulsed with a cold blue light, and the runes pulsed in golden counterpoint. They both encircled a large clay human-looking body, itself covered in a multitude of dark runes.

Dolórüska the Damned, tall and imperious in his traditional Atlantean robes, stood over the simulacrum, finishing an incantation before looking up, apparently totally unconcerned by his new visitors.

“So typical of this era’s champions,” he finally said once his chant was done. His Golden Helm glinted in the flickering light as he turned its cold countenance on them. “You have both presumed to let yourselves in… and have arrived too late!” His voice was deep and as cold as the void between the stars, and when he laughed it sent chills down the spine.

“I have concluded the ritual, you fools! I have drawn down his disembodied spirit, and now Roland Reid is forever bound into this body! My former rival now my loyal pet, for all eternity! Now, servant, rise and destroy these interlopers! By my command, attack!”

The Vanguard tensed, staring in anticipated horror at the clay golem. They could see now that it’s molded feature bore a distinct resemblance to the late Magus Prime. And Totem saw, to his real dismay, the ancient Talisman of the Trifani around the simulacrum’s neck, resting on its chest. Roland had worn and wielded that powerful artifact for almost 80 years – it would act as the perfect conduit to pull his spirit into the body! How in the Names of all the Great Beasts had Dolórüska acquired it?

The moment stretched… and stretched again. Nothing happened. For all that the features of his metal helm were immobile, Totem had the sense that the ancient sorcerer was surprised. He took advantage of that, and cast the most powerful spell of disenchantment that he knew, backed by all the mystic power at his command, and hurled it at Dolórüska.

The violet energies flowed from him and splashed harmlessly against a shield, invisible until then, that lay dome-like around the runes, golem and wizard. Dolórüska paid no attention to the harmless attack, instead focusing his concentration on commanding his new slave – he shouted words not heard on Earth in almost 20,000 years, and gestured violently at the golem.

Still nothing happened, except Quanta’s quantum matter splashing in beautiful, glittering steaks of silver against the shield dome, and Totem tried a Curse, which sputtered and died — less spectacular, but just as useless.

The attacks did finally draw Dolórüska’s attention, and almost contemptuously he gestured at Totem. Crimson energy flashed out, and in an instant the shaman was wrapped from nose to toes in glowing red chains of mystical energy. Unable to move or speak, he was utterly vulnerable and defenseless.

Chilz, seeing the futility of physical attacks, also saw that the invisible barrier, when briefly lit by an attack, seemed to lay just within the circle of crystals. Perhaps they were vulnerable? Leaping forward, he brought both of his massive ice fists down on the nearest crystal. Cracks radiated out in a spiderweb pattern, and his second blow shattered the crystal into a thousand shards. The barrier flickered into visibility for a moment before fading back out of sight…. But Chilz was sure he could now see the occasional flicker of the shield in the dim light, where it had been entirely invisible before.

“Chilz has the right idea!” Scion called out on comms. “We need to destroy that barrier before we can take the fight to Dolórüska. Go for the crystals!”

Taking his own advice, Scion slamed an armored fist into another crystal, cracking it — before he could make a second strike the Blue Flame was hovering next him, unleashing a plasma stream into the fractured rock. It blew apart in a flash of blue light and flame. Again, the shield dome flickered, and afterward its invisibility wasn’t quite as complete.

Artemis took a moment to examine the crystal nearest to her, looking deep into its internal structure… yes, just there. She struck a single, solid blow with an escrima stick at the juncture of three facets. With a crack like a rifle shot, the crystal fractured down its center, splitting into two halves, each of which shattered into several more pieces as they hit the floor. The dome flickered, and this time it remained faintly visible in the candlelight…

Struggling in the constricting bonds within which Dolórüska had restrained him, Totem tried something he had contemplated, but never pursued. Reaching deep within himself, to the place where the Avatars slept within him, he focused on Eagle. He did not summon the Avatar, but instead channeled his tremendous strength…

The crimson chains burst in a flash of ruby light, and Totem rolled forward to come up in a three-point hero pose. His eyes glowed golden and his fist was encased in a nimbus of golden energy…

Chilz had shattered a fourth crystal, and that had finally gotten the attention of the undead mage. Dolórüska gestured toward the ice giant and a blast of crimson mystic energy struck him full in the chest. To the surprise fo both, it did little more than force him back a step. Chilz grinned…

Quanta, meanwhile, crushed the fifth crystal with a massive block of realized quantum matter, and this time the flicker of the shield-dome didn’t stop. Bands of swirling, translucent energy defined the barrier clearly… and then Scion blasted the final crystal to flinders with a stream of armor-piercing rounds.

The barrier vanished as the last crystal went dark.

The instant it was gone, the Blue Flame let loose a massive plasma blast, engulfing Dolórüska in a searing ball of roiling blue energy.… which the lich simply strode out of, almost oblivious to it.

But as the Atlantean began to gesture, no doubt to conjure some new assault, Artemis vaulted over the remains of a crystal and was on him. Legs wrapped around his torso, arms encircling his neck, she addressed the boy imprisoned in his own body.

“Tyler, I know you must be in there! Fight him from the inside, help us to help you! You are not helpless —“

“What a foolish child you are, little demi-godling,” Dolórüska just laughed, shrugging her off as if she were a child indeed. But that was fine, she’d only wanted to distract him. “No one can resist my possession, and soon enough what remains of the—“

Totem’s golden bands of mystic power wrapped the ancient mage from neck to ankles, much as he’d earlier bound the young shaman. Chilz took Dolórüska’s distraction to unleash a tremendous roundhouse punch the head of the Arkanos-golem — if the construct was too damaged, maybe it could forestall any resurrection of Roland Reid.

But Dolórüska took far less time to shrug off his bonds than Totem had taken to shed his. Distracted he might have been, but not so much that he hadn’t noticed Chilz’ attempted desecration of the vessel in which he would enslave his old foe. Furious at the minor damage the ice giant had managed to inflict on the golem, he turned his attention full upon him.

“By the power of the ancient Ghoruzhed,” Dolórüska roared, “I Curse you and Transform you, let you be as the dust of the earth, dead and inert!”

A wash of almost invisible energy flowed over him, and Chilz felt his body begin to change… it was stiffening, and he watched in horror as his extremities began to turn… to clay?! He collapsed to his knees next to the golem, focusing every ounce of his willpower on fighting the transformation…

Quanta, staying firmly on the ground this time, lashed out at the ancient mage with an encasement attack. From feet to helm, Dolórüska was encased in a constricting shell of nano carbon. Yes, finally, Quanta thought. Proves that it pays to stay on the – his satisfied thought was cut short as he saw his quantum matter suddenly turn inside out, twist sideways somehow, and then simply vanish.

Before the lich could turn his ire on Quanta, however, Scion was behind him, unleashing a point-blank burst of his brain-tickler into the Golden Helm. He didn’t know if the undead spirit would be affected, but maybe if he knocked out the physical brain of the the poor kid it possessed —

Dolórüska staggered forward, but when he whirled to confront Scion, he seemed little more than annoyed. “So, are you an Atlantean under that little shell of orichalcum, boy? Perhaps one of my very distant descendants, eh? And I see you’ve alloyed the pure orichalcum with other elements… clever! It may be you will make a good court artificer for me… assuming you survive my ascension, of course.”

He gestured, and a blast of pure mystic energy sent Scion flying across the room. As he pulled himself back to his feet, the armored hero noticed a shape, moving in the shadows… for a moment he thought it was Artemis, but no, he could see his teammate near the downed Chilz…. then it was gone, and he couldn’t be sure it hadn’t been his imagination.

Chilz could feel himself winning, fighting the transformation, pushing it back, moment by moment. He retained enough presence of mind, even in his own fear and desperate struggle, to remember the real danger. He reached out and pulled the fancy necklace from around the golem’s neck, clutching it in his fist. Totem had yelled something over comms earlier about it drawing in Arkanos’ spirit…

Artemis, seeing his action and realizing its significance, snapped her Shadow Whip toward her teammate. Its tip wrapped around the chain, and she snapped it back, reaching up as the Talisman of the Trifani dropped neatly into her hand. Stepping back into the shadows, she vanished…

To reappear in another shadow as close as she could get to Totem. He and Dolórüska were engaged now in a serious mystic duel, and her teammate seemed to be actually holding his own. The Atlantean’s crimson bolts splattered against Totems golden shields, and the shaman had again bound their enemy in mystic chains. The lich had burst them, yes, but it had taken him longer… was Dolórüska tiring? If so… she waited for the right moment…

It came when the Blue Flame yelled “Ballz!” at the top of his lungs. As the subsequent burst of blinding blue-white light filled the room, she had leaped forward, tossing the Talisman to Totem. Dolórüska hadn’t been blinded, of course – she wasn’t even sure if he saw, in the traditional sense, through that helmet of his — but he was distracted.

Which Quanta used to drop a ton of silvery quantum matter on the old zombie. He gritted his teeth in frustration when the bastard simply waved a hand, and his plunging block turned into a cloud of Death’s Head moths and fluttered away. He really hated magic.

Totem also had used Dolórüska’s distraction to good advantage, dropping the Talisman of the Trifani around his neck, with a silent apology to his old mentor. This was a powerful artifact, and one of its many uses was to channel and amplify a mages existing power, and he needed every advantage he could get at this point. He finally felt his own newfound powers had integrated, becoming truly his… but Dolórüska was relentless, and both more skilled and, honestly, more powerful than him.

As if to prove the point, he suddenly found himself once again bound in strands of glowing ruby chains, suspended several feet above the floor. But this time he wore the Talisman, and even though he understood little about its full use, he felt its power amplifying his own. He burst the chains almost as quickly as Dolórüska had burst his own golden chains.

As he launched another barrage of mystic bolts at the undead mage, Totem thought he saw a vaguely human shadow flit across the edge of his vision. But there was no time to give it any thought , he had his hands, and mind, full just then…

Scion landed next to Chilz, helping his teammate to his feet. “Are you OK? What the hell did he do to you.”

“Yeah, I think I’m OK now, I seem to have fought it off… I think he was trying turn me to clay! Maybe as punishment for trying to disfigure his little doll here.” Chilz gestured to the golem at their feet.

“A good idea, Chilz,” Scion said, and unleashed a volley of his armor-piercing rounds at the recumbent form. But aside form a small chip or two, they did no more damage than Chilz’ blows had.

“Yeah, I think those squiggly symbols all over it provide protection,” he said after Scion stopped firing. “Did you notice how they flared when your bullets hit?”

Before Scion could answer the Blue Flame landed on the other side of the golem. “You guys are on the right track, but a little cosmetic surgery isn’t enough. This calls for some radical surgery!”

With that, his Plasma Katana formed in his hand, and he swept the searing blade down. With a single mighty stroke he decapitated the construct. The head rolled away to bump up against Chilz’ foot. He bend down and picked it up, staring into the lifeless clay face.

“Alas, poor golem! I knew him Horatio…”

“Ok, now that the threat of a resurrected Arkanos is gone,” Scion laughed, “let’s go kick this bastard’s ass. Totem is holding his own, but I doubt he can do it alone, even with Reid’s magic doohickey.”

And indeed, enraged at the destruction of his golem, Dolórüska was redoubling his efforts to bring down Totem. But their teammate blocked each attack with his golden shields, and returned as good as he got, his golden bolts flaring against the Atlantean’s crimson shields.

And then he managed to ensnare the lich in golden chains, and this time Dolórüska struggled to break them. Chilz was across the five meters between them in an instant, and his roundhouse punch jerked the mage’s head back, but didn’t seem to actually hurt him.

With a desperate shrug Dolórüska shattered Totems bindings, and he turned his wrath on Chilz. “I shall not suffer the indignity of having one such as you lay hands on me,” he roared, and with a gesture Chilz found himself bound from chin to feet, as Totem had been earlier, in crimson chains of energy. Twirling slowly several feet in the air, he struggled to break the chains…

Scion had used the distraction to again come up behind the Atlantean sorcerer and unleash an EMP directly into his head. This time, Dolórüska staggered forward, and almost went to one knee. It might have been Quanta’s stream of buckyballs that actually kept him on his feet, as the attack took him full in the chest and drove him back.

The Blue Flame swooped in and encased the ancient mage in a flaming cage of his own plasma form. But even staggered by the previous attacks, Dolórüska simply waved the cage away, dissipating the Blue Flame entirely for a moment, before he could pull himself back together. As he did, he thought he saw a flickering, shadowy figure across the room…

Artemis was suddenly on the former Magus Prime, punching, jabbing and kicking at one after another of the body’s most vulnerable points, and Dolórüska reeled under the attack. Before he could recover, Totem poured all his power int his Winding Whip, lashing it around the mage and binding his arms.

Quanta unleashed a stream of buckyballs at nearly the speed of sound, slamming it into the Golden Helm. It was the last straw, and Dolórüska collapsed to the ground. There was a blinding flash of light, and a jubilant female voice yelled “YES!”

As their vision cleared, the Vanguard saw the unconscious form of Tyler Attah, draped in Dolórüska’s robes, lying where the ancient mage had been. The Golden Helm lay smoking on the floor nearby. But the room began to grow cold before the heroes could react, and the smoke and light twisted themselves into a woman’s form standing over the helmet. A woman with long, dark hair framing cruel eyes of a red so dark as to be almost black. A woman Totem recognized instantly.

“Varina!” he snarled as she burst into peals of cold laughter.

“Indeed, boy! Dolórüska played his part perfectly. As did you and your little super-friends, fools and tools that you all are.

“A year of slumbering within this world’s magical energy, months spent finding and destroying Arkanos’s vile little wards, designed solely to keep me from my rightful ascension… but it’s all are over now, and I rise! How I envy you little mortals… you have served me so loyally… and now you have the glory of being the first to die at the hands of Varina the Ascendant, Dark God of Gods!”

“So this was your ploy all along?” Totem demanded. “You wanted Sabra to kill you that day, didn’t you… but why? What did you gain?”

“Gain? Why, everything, foolish boy. Or at least that was the plan. I spent centuries devising my ritual – the great ritual that would finally allow me to ascend to true godhood. I needed one thousand worlds drawn into my own Dark Realm, and after Roland’s humiliating trickery, I swore to make this pathetic little world, his world, my final conquest.

“My “death” was an integral part of the ritual, of course – but only my death at the hands of this world’s Magus Prime would do, allowing my spirit to merge with your world’s magics and thereby gain control from within. But that vile Roland Reid must have suspected… his damn Arcane Wards worked just as he intended, keeping me trapped and formless, unable to act on the material world.

“But he underestimated me, of course. However brilliant, he didn’t have my centuries of experience. It took time, but eventually I found tools whose minds I could touch, tools I could use to act as my hands in this world, to find and destroy the Wards. And now, bonded to this last, accidental Ward, there is nothing you or anyone can do to stop my Ascension!”

She stooped to take up the Golden Helm… and her hand passed through the artifact as if it were made of smoke. Her expression changed swiftly from mocking condescension to furious rage.

“What trickery is this?” I—“

“Oh, how dreadful,” Medea feigned a sob from the gloom deeper within the chamber. “Isn’t it terrible when someone wears the same accessory to a party?”

As all eyes turned to her, she lifted the real Golden Helm to her head and, with a gleeful laugh, lowered it…

The world vanished in a flood of light, and three voices screamed in agonizing pain and terror. The Vanguard collapsed to the stone floor, blinded and half-deafened by the horrible shrieks. And then they just stopped. As vision returned, only the Golden Helm of Dolórüska the Damned remained, laying in the spot where Medea had stood — surrounded by a circle of charred stone…

•• •• ••

Later, the Vanguard were gathered about the Round Table in their Ready Room at Vanguard HQ, high atop the famed AzTech Pyramid. It was another beautiful summer day in Astoria, and things had been surprisingly quiet since their return from New Atlantis. With not much crime to report on, the meeting was ending early. Life was good.

But then the red phone in the corner of the room rang, and everyone tensed. A call on that particular phone could mean only one thing – serious trouble was going on somewhere in the city. The Mayor only called on her dedicated special hotline when things were beyond the police!

“Hello Madame Mayor,” Scion said as he lifted the receiver, putting it to his ear. “How can we help?”

“Good morning Scion,” Mayor Syrett said, sounding all business. “I’m afraid the forces of E.V.A.L. have struck again – the master super villainess Sandblaster and her gang of sand-themed minions are robbing the main branch of the First National Bank even as we speak! The police are helpless against them… I’m afraid only the Vanguard can stop her!”

“Have no fear, ma’am, the Vanguard is on the way!” Scion hung up the phone and turned to his teammates. “It looks like the vacation is over, friends – our old chum Sandblaster is back in town, and up to her old tricks. It’s time to earn our keep again!”