Chapter Three: Gone, Gone, the Form of Man…

Jason Blood's home was done in warm woods and deep reds and golds. The walls were covered in pictures and shelves that were lined with knick-knacks from around the world. From the inside of the building the magic I could feel was far stronger and I let my senses explore a bit as he led us up a set of stairs towards his study. On the way I could see a dozen portraits of men that all looked identical to Jason with the only difference being their state of dress which told me that his aristocratic good looks were either the result of a very dominant gene, or magical meddling of some sort.

Personally, I had my money on meddling of the most profane level.

That wasn't to say that Jason felt like a Dark wizard, but strictly 'Light aligned' magic rarely ever granted the level of extended life his portraits suggested.

Of course I was hardly a paragon of Light magic (sorry Albus) so it's not like I could talk.

We arrived at the third floor and I could see that there had obviously been heavy renovations to the original floor plans as any walls had been knocked down, with the entire floor one large library and study.

If we had more time I would have loved to explore the volumes on display, but as it was… "I assume you've seen the news on the telly or heard about what happened at Buckingham Palace?"

"I have," murmured Jason, deadpan, "dreadful business, that, when even the seat of the Empire falls under attack by barbarous rapscallions in such an atrocious manner."

"Indeed," I said drolly, my own in-born talent for British understatement shining through, "the Queen's tasked me with getting to the bottom of it."

Jason smiled sardonically. "Nothing quite like an old fashioned Quest to get the blood pumping. Reminds me of my youth, actually."

I could feel the sheer disbelief in Nightshade's eye-roll before she said, "This is the most English exchange I've ever heard－chip, chip cheerio and all that tosh. Can we get passed all the Jolly Goods and get to the damn point?"

I looked over my shoulder at Nightshade and winked at her before once more addressing the Enchantress' 'expert'. "So I took a stroll through one of the attacker's mind and learned bugger all, but I did see a cave and a bloke in a blue robe a few centuries out of date proselytizing to a group of sheeple who are all card carriers for cultist-r-us. Know any maniacs looking like they've walked out of a renn faire－beyond the," I chuckled, "ancestral portraits lining your walls?"

The Enchantress groaned and face-palmed.

"Ah, the bluster of youth," opined Jason, leading us to a desk where he sunk into a plush chair, "though I can't say the swagger you stride through life with isn't deserved. You, a very young wizard, has managed to best practitioners with several times your level of experience, including a genuine monster like Eclipso. I must say it makes one wonder where you'll be with a few centuries under your belt."

"Who knows," I said shrugging, "could be I get brained by a falling tea kettle on my evening stroll. I'm not Superman nor Captain Marvel, after all."

Jason chuckled and nodded. "True. Mortality can often be nearly random. Now, I believe you were seeking help identifying your robed man?"

I nodded and twitched my fingers and Dumbledore's pensieve appeared in my hands. I pressed one of the runes carved into the basin like it was a button and from the bowl an image of the man I had seen in Jack Williamson's memory was projected for Jason to see.

It was quick, but I clearly saw a flash of worried confusion descend on the man's face before it was once more replaced with his unconcerned mask. "Felix Faust," he said quietly, "that is who you're looking for."

Eve cursed under her breath.

I frowned. "Who's Felix Faust?"

"A sorcerer who warred with Nommo, the ruler of an ancient African empire called Kor, over the sacred Flame of Life," said Jason. "As they fought, Faust tried to wrest control of the Flame from Nommo but he was unsuccessful and was banished to another dimension for his affront. That was the last the world heard of him until the nineteen-twenties when a fool by the name of Dekan Drache accidentally made contact with him. Faust destroyed Dekan's soul and took his younger body for his own, though it diminished his own powers greatly. Ever since, Faust has been making deals with demons and monsters for power, always managing to slip away without paying up on a technicality or outright reneging on his debts."

"I've had run-ins with him," said Eve coldly, "in my job with the American government, only he didn't look like that. He was older then. He must be using magic to rejuvenate himself or somehow de-age Dekan's body."

Blue Devil grimaced. "Why is a guy looking for more magical power working with a group of magic-haters who can cancel out magic?"

"Good question," mumbled Detective Chimp, "and it's one that I've been thinking about and I'm coming up with a blank."

I rubbed my chin. "Well let's put him to the side for a moment. I'll get some feelers out on him with the ICW later. For now, I have one more thing to show you, Jason." I pressed another rune and the memory skipped ahead until I landed on the rift in reality through which the alien-looking eye peered inwards. "Don't suppose you have something on that?"

Jason frowned, stood, and leaned closer to the pensieve. "Unfortunately not. With just an eye it will be hard to identify accurately. Do you have another image?"

I shook my head. "Do you think it's just the latest demon or entity that Faust's using for power, or is there something else going on here?"

Jason grimaced, tapping his desk with a single finger. "I don't know. I don't have enough information to make a guess." He pursed his lips. "If you can wait I shall send a message to Madame Xanadu? She might be able to divine something in her cards, though I do know her Sight, both magical and non, is still limited from the Spectre's attack on her."

I nodded. "Please do."

"If you would all like refreshment, I shall put a kettle on. In the mean time, please, have a seat." said Jason, walking off, and before anyone could make a snarky comment about there not being enough seats, a half-dozen squashy armchairs appeared arranged in a half circle before the desk.

I couldn't hold in my chuckle.

How could anyone hate magic?

Still, before I would let myself sit down, I walked over to Nightshade and rested a hand on her shoulder, jerking my head towards the far side of the room.

She sighed and nodded.

In our time together, we were both forced to keep a certain professional separation from each other. We both carried government secrets, after all－Eve for the Americans and myself for the British Ministry of Magic and ICW. As such, we didn't really talk about 'work stuff' beyond our time together in the 'Pact.

It was an arrangement that would have to be put aside for the foreseeable future and it was obvious that we were both none too happy about it. Still, no one said balancing my positions as leader of the Shadowpact, an enforcer of the ICW, an advisor to the Minister of Magic for Great Britain, and the boyfriend of Eve Eden was going to be easy.

Eve looked up at me defiantly but I could see the naked worry in her eyes. "Har-Magus," she mumbled, "please…"

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Nightshade," I said quietly, "I don't know the history between you and Faust but we're going to need as much information as we can. Now it sounds like you have the most recent experience with the guy…"

Eve frowned but then she sighed. "It's not that the knowledge is too classified. It's just an uncomfortable memory."

I reached over and grasped one of Eve's hands, rubbing my thumb across her knuckles and she rested her other hand atop mine. "Several years ago, I was kidnapped by Faust. I had just been, er, scouted for a group of black ops agents called the Suicide Squad and they managed to find and rescue me, but Faust was using my connection to the Realm of Nightshades to siphon power for himself. He turned me into a battery, Magus, nearly overloaded what my body could take and almost severed my connection to the Realm of Nightshades doing it. It was agony. When I was freed I thought I had killed him, but obviously not."

I frowned. "Does he have any notable skills beyond being a piece of shit or obviously exploitable weaknesses?"

Nightshade shrugged. "He's a powerful practitioner. Fond of summoning monsters and demons, energy blasts, shields, rituals, the whole shebang. He's ruthless and willing to hurt anyone and do anything for even scraps of power."

I nodded, set aside my title as Leader of the Shadowpact, and pulled my hurting girlfriend into my arms, smiling sadly as she melted against me and let out a contented sigh.

"We'll get him," I said quietly.

Eve nodded. "Gonna kill him this time. He's not going to escape."

I hummed my agreement. After Buckingham Palace and hearing about Eve's experiences I was more than willing to end Faust's life, assuming Eve didn't get him herself before I could.

"C'mon," said Eve, "let's get something warm to drink. I still taste pepper-up potion and it's gross."

I rolled my eyes and the two of us walked back over to the team and I saw that the few minutes our talk took was all the time needed for a full tea service to appear near the conjured chairs.

"What's next, Boss," asked Ragman, pouring an ungodly amount of sugar into his delicate-looking cup of tea, "we got a target but no way to track him yet."

"We have to wait for Jason to talk with Madame Xanadu," I said, tiredly, pouring for Nightshade and passing it over with no cream or sweetener, jus how she liked it, "we can't really plan anything until then."

"I can head to the Watchtower," said Blue Devil, pushing himself out of his seat, "see if Witchfire or Zatara know anything."

I nodded. "Right. Meet back in the Oblivion Bar afterwards. We'll meet up in a few hours."

"I'll go with," said Detective Chimp, "Gotham smells like the kind of puke you get when you've been drinking cheap bourbon all night."

Nightshade and Enchantress wrinkled their noses and I shook my head as the Chimp followed the Devil out of the house.

"Pretty sure Dan's just excited to see Witchfire again. Big Blue's got it bad," chuckled Ragman sotto voce.

The Enchantress snorted. "Is this what we do now, gossip about our love lives over a cuppa?"

I rolled my eyes. "I suppose we can. How about it, June, got anyone special tied up in your kinky sex dungeon?"

Nightshade grinned, turning away to hide her amusement.

"Har-Har," scowled the Enchantress, "don't use my real name when we're on the job."

"That's what you had a problem with?" asked Ragman.

The Enchantress smirked and I threw up a bit in my mouth, my mind's eye assaulted by several unwanted images, forcing me to take a drink of tea to settle my suddenly upset stomach.

The sound of feet walking softly up the stairs drew our attention and I thanked the Higher Authority for the distraction as Jason Blood reentered his library. "Madame Xanadu will consult her cards and I've set out my own scouts. I'll contact you when I have something."

I nod. "Thank you for your time."

Jason bowed a perfect forty-five degrees, his heels snapping together.

I stood, finishing off my tea and placing my cup on its saucer and setting it on the tea tray. "We'll just show ourselves out, then."

Jason nodded and walked around to sit at his desk, shuffling a bit of parchment to the side as the rest of my team followed my lead and we traveled down the stairs. I took a second to once more go over the portraits and I shook my head, shoving my curiosity aside for the moment. Together, we left the rather nice home and I wrinkled my nose.

Detective Chimp was right about the puke smell.

The night air greeted us and I pursed my lips. "Anyone have any ideas?"

"Good evening, Shadowpact." said a deep, ponderous voice and I rolled my eyes for I recognized it.

"Hello, Stranger," I greeted moments before the man himself phased into being across the road from us, his dark blue, long-collared cloak billowing in an unfelt breeze. His finely pressed suit was mostly lost in the shadow of his cloak, but I could see the glint of the chain of ancient silver coins wrapped around his neck. Atop his head was his wide-brimmed hat, leaving his eyes to peek out of the shadows like two stars. "Fancy meeting you here. Something tells me that you aren't here for a social visit."

"Indeed not, Harry Potter," he said as we approached, "I am far too busy for such trivialities at the moment. With the changes in the flow of Magic through reality, the remaining Lords of Order and I have been working to limit the damage."

Enchantress nodded, a gracefully cocked eyebrow rose and she said, "How's that going for you?"

"Well," said the Stranger, bypassing the Enchantress' sarcasm with ease, "until Felix Faust's return, that is."

"This is lovely," I said, unable to keep suspicion from my tone, "only we've just hit a snag in our own investigation on him and the demon-thingy he's either under the control of or currently conning. It's very convenient that you just now show up right when we needed a clue."

"The night is young and I walk many paths, Harry Potter," he said cryptically. "You are not the only heroes I advise. I need to play the long game."

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. "Really not in the mood to be someone's chess piece. Tell us what you're going to tell us, please. I'd like to get this done so I can go apologize to a hacked off friend of mine then sleep for about a week."

"Just so," said the Stranger, "Felix Faust, as you had guessed, is both being conned and conning his newest benefactor."

"This ought to be good," said Ragman, frowning.

"Young Faust did indeed make contact with an outside source of power, as he is wont to do. In his mind he's the one in charge, pulling this being's strings as he has done countless times, but he is mistaken. Faust is the one being controlled so subtly－so insidiously, that he won't realize it until it's too late."

"Good," said Nightshade, crossing her arms across her chest as the Enchantress and Ragman looked her over in surprise, not knowing of their history, "he deserves whatever he gets."

"Perhaps," said the Stranger, "but Faust's new master is gaining in strength rapidly. Your mission is this: Save Felix Faust from Ur-Koranth. Beat the Outsider back into the void beyond reality and slam the door in his face."

I shared a bleak look with my teammates before I turned back to the Stranger. "The fuck's an Outsider?"

"An Outsider is a foreign entity," explained the Stranger, lifting his arms. I felt his magic move and instead of a grungy Gotham street we were suddenly floating in a void. Distant stars swirled around us, some forming and others blinking out in an endless cycle of life and death－a symphony of destruction and creation replayed ad infinitum. "In the earliest days of the cosmos, Life boomed. The building blocks lay scattered, and those who would become deities and other beings who were already old in those early days built empires and warred for power. But behind them, were the Outsiders. Always there. Always waiting. You see, Outsiders are not born in our reality. They come from beyond the Borders of Space. They live in darkness and hunger for our realm's light. They cannot abide us. They are anti-life." Space shifted around us until we were all floating before an impossibly tall wall that stretched on into infinity. It was made of some harsh black stone, and the power of that place was enough to drive the air from my lungs. If I hadn't been floating there, I would've fallen to my knees against the strength of its overwhelming majesty. It was beautiful and stark, desolate and yet reassuring. It was obvious that I wasn't the only one in awe before what I was seeing as I heard Nightshade let out a shuddering gasp and the Enchantress muttering a litany of charms to herself in a language even I didn't recognize, while Ragman stood stock-still, his entire body seemingly locked up.

"Behold," said the Stranger, sweeping an arm out as if we needed him to point out the massive structure before us, "the Outer Gates, the Door of Night, the Source Wall, the Bleak Stone. The Never-There-Passage. All different names mortal men have given these ancient defenses. They circle all reality at all times and at all places within the multiverse simultaneously."

"W-Who built them?" I asked, just barely managing to get the words out.

"In ancient history's murky waters even I can only guess," said the Stranger, his voice seemingly sad, "the hand of the Higher Authority birthed a great many workings into creation, but He is not the only being of great power to have existed in Elder Days."

"What does this thing do?" asked Ragman, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"What does a wall do?" asked the Enchantress. "It keeps things out. Evil things. Harmful things. All things."

"H-how do you know about this thing?" asked Nightshade.

"I didn't," admitted the Enchantress, her tone coming out softer than usual. She tapped the side of her head and said, "She did, though－the Swamp-Mother. The Hag inside me is quiet. It's like she's showing deference. It's actually… peaceful… for once."

"I have one more thing to show you all," said the Phantom Stranger, raising his hands once more and as a group we lurched forward, shifting upwards until we stood atop the Outer Gates itself, and now that I was in actual physical contact with them I could get a clearer feel of the enchantments that went into the construct. A nigh-infinite number of layers and layers of power woven together so far beyond the level of a master of the art it was laughable stretching on into a well of energy so vast I couldn't properly put its scale into words.

It was the working of a capitol 'G' God.

Not even the Spectre could scratch these defenses…

"M-Magus," stuttered Nightshade, drawing my attention. She pointed her finger over the edge of the wall and my eyes widened as I saw a throng of teeth, slimy black skin studded with chunks of sharp, slate-colored, bone-like scales. Tails writhed and limbs disjointed and struck again and again at the Gates with resounding booms that sent shock waves of power echoing all around us, and I had to dive into the calming effect of my Occlumency to protect my mind from such havoc, and even then I knew that what I was seeing, whatever it was, was simply Wrong.

"It's H.P Lovecraft's wet dream," mumbled Nightshade, unable to tear her eyes away from what I was just now beginning to understand was a multitude of creatures washing forward in a tide of destruction and not just one massive Thing assaulting the Gates, desiring entry into our reality, "even the Dark-Dwellers in the Realm of Nightshades aren't this bad."

"Lovely," said the Enchantress, but she seemingly couldn't work up her normal scorn. She looked almost as pale as Nightshade and her shoulders hung limp, "so you're saying that this Ur-Koranth is one of these things?"

"Ur-Koranth is not one of these baser Outsiders－it is a Lord of the Abstract." said a tall man walking up to us. He was clad in a hooded cloak and carried a gnarled staff. He lowered his hood and revealed a weathered face with dusky skin and salt and pepper hair shorn short. His most distinctive feature was his eyes. Much like Mad-Eye Moody, one was natural while the the other was a silvery artificial orb and after a moment's dawning horror, I realized that the absolute mad man had used a chunk of the Gates themselves as a prosthetic.

"Gatekeeper Rashid," greeted the Stranger, nodding.

The Gatekeeper returned the look before he continued, saying, "These creatures are little more than animals howling at the moon－rabid wolves baying for meat. Ur-Koranth possesses a vast intelligence and a dark design on our reality." He peered at us with his silvery eye and when his gaze landed on me, he said, an odd weight in his voice, "Only the Children of the Stars can combat him. People like you, Harry Potter."

In my life I've dealt with grand pronouncements and life-changing events more often than most. From the death of my parents before I was old enough to wipe my own ass, to a friendly half-giant busting down a shoddy door and hand-delivering a letter. The final death of Voldemort was a freeing experience. Suddenly my entire life was bare before me. I had an infinite number of paths to walk and all the time to figure out who I was in a post-war world. Being accepted into the Scholomance and spending five years there studying advanced magic under legendary occultists like Charles Manson, Alistair Crowley, and Jack Parsons was eye-opening. It had revealed to me what kind of power I could wield. Graduating and being dubbed a Solomonari was humbling. Accepting a job with the ICW was rewarding and let me do some good work for the common witch and wizard.

So why did that simple sentence spoken by a man I didn't know with a fake eye carry a weight so heavy that it made all the others seem trivial in comparison?

"W-What did you call me?"

The Gatekeeper took a step closer. "I called you one of the Children of the Stars. Harry Potter, Magus, you are a Starborn－there can be no mistake, not anymore, not now that I have gazed upon you with this eye of mine."

I found my hands shaking and I grasped my wrist to steady myself as Nightshade placed her hands on my shoulders, acting like a rock in the sea for me to hold on to. "But what does that mean?" she asked.

"Every six hundred or so years," said the Phantom Stranger, his voice quiet, almost timid, "a unique set of strange astrological events occur that dictate the birth of those we call Starborn. Mr. Potter－Harry, you are not alone. There are several Starborn on earth currently. Rashid, himself is a Starborn. It's a requirement to being Gatekeeper. The only thing it means practically, is that your particular magic can harm and even kill Outsiders."

"Wait," said the Enchantress, "does that mean Outsiders like Ur-Koranth are immune to magic?"

"Mortal magic," said the Gatekeeper, "any direct skill you or the Hag dwelling in the dark corners of your mind possesses will be less than useful against Ur-Koranth."

The Enchantress clenched her hands into fists and turned away, a deep scowl on her face.

"However, it may be possible that you need not engage Ur-Koranth at all," said The Phantom Stranger, "Find Felix Faust and stop him soon and you'll leave the Outsider without a servant. It will be unable to enter this reality."

"Why Faust?" asked Ragman. "If this Ur-Koranth is so powerful why does he need him? How did that thing even contact Faust if the Gates are in the way?"

"Like you've realized, an Outsider is obviously blocked from entering passed the Gates on their own," said Rashid, "but human magic can open the door for them. Amongst the Wizards of the White Council one of their most sacred tenets is the rule of never seeking passage through the Outer Gates. Doing so is an automatic death sentence carried out by the Council's Wardens."

"With the Spectre's attack on magic itself, Ur-Koranth was able to exert just a sliver of influence, like an angler casting a line into a still pond, but that was enough to ensnare a power-mad man like Faust," added the Phantom Stranger.

"But you said mortal magic is useless against an Outsider," said Nightshade, "if a human can't fight them magically, then why would mortal magic be required to open the Gates for them?"

The Stranger shared a look with Rashid and the Gatekeeper said, "Frankly, we don't know. You'd have to ask someone higher up on the ladder than either of us for that answer. The being that made the Gates, for instance."

I scowled, a sick realization forming in my gut. "Fucking hell… Faust's a Starborn, isn't he?"

"Indeed," said Rashid, nodding, a small smile crossing his lips, "born millennia ago."

"Spells failed against the muggle mooks he had attack Buckingham Palace," I muttered, rubbing a hand through my hair. I groaned and said, "I bet knuts to galleons that they weren't actually failing, just that the energy in the spells that hit them was being siphoned to Faust. He took that power in. Made it his own. His Starborn magic. Then he passed it on to Ur-Koranth through that portal I saw in Jack Williamson's shattered memories. The mad bastard is feeding the Outsider."

Nightshade and the Enchantress swore foully and Ragman sighed, his shoulders slumping as his eyes trailed to the throng of nightmare fuel ceaselessly assaulting the Outer Gates.

oOo

The four of us appeared back in Gotham in silence, each of us processing what we had just been shown. I shook my head and slapped my cheeks, trying to focus my scattered mind, but my thoughts flew in every direction.

And here I thought being the Boy-Who-Lived had been a yoke around my shoulders…

Eventually, I took a deep breath and said, "Enchantress, Ragman… Can you go to the Watchtower and update the League before getting Blue Devil and Detective Chimp? Meet us back at HQ?"

"Yes," said the Enchantress with a nod, either too tired or too distracted or, more likely, both to argue at being a messenger, "what are you two going to do?"

"I want my sword," I said, unclenching my left fist where a crumbled piece of folded paper rested. I unfolded it and re-read the Chicago address Rashid had written down for me, "and I want to recruit some help."