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Batman 1939: Three's Company

Chapter 17: Subtle and Quick to Anger

The room beyond the auxiliary treasury.

Sindella. Zatara's mother was Sindella. Yes, Catwoman remembered the name from the talk in the dining room. She studied the resting woman's face in the candlelight. Sindella's hair was gray at the temples; her cheeks were a little sharper than Zatanna's, and there were more lines under her eyes. Otherwise, they could have been twins. Catwoman wondered whether magic sleep kept a body looking so young, which led to the troubling question of how long Sindella had been sleeping. The house claimed to have never seen Sindella, and Catwoman couldn't fathom a reason for it to lie about that. Of course, Catwoman was too sleep-deprived to pick apart tonight's little opera, so who knew? But there was dust on the sheets. Did Sindella ever leave this bed?

Her impression had been that Giovanni was one of the good guys, or at worst a murky neutral. Was he responsible for his wife being in a coma? And what man convinces his daughter that her mother is dead her whole life while hiding her mother in a locked room? Catwoman worked around unsavory characters, but even by the criminal underworld's standards that would be some dark perversity.

Then Catwoman remembered she was here to kill her.

Faust would arrive in the study any minute; it may already be too late. Catwoman imagined the gaunt psychopath in his headdress and indigo suit, his eyes glowing red as he floated through the air. She imagined Batman destroyed, bloodied in some gruesome pose. She imagined Zatanna running in terror, trying to hide and suddenly discovered.

Catwoman dropped the dagger from her teeth and caught it without looking. Then she flipped the blade point-down, moving with the ease of one who knew the business of a knife. She stepped forward and held the blade over Sindella's chest.

Catwoman tensed her arm. Zatanna would never know. She tried to look anywhere but that sleeping face, but she couldn't resist. The woman looked so peaceful. Catwoman grit her teeth and withdrew the dagger.

The house said I have to sacrifice a mage. Why don't I just hop back and kill one of the brothers after all? I'd be doing humanity a favor, really. Catwoman nodded to herself, but stopped mid-nod with another thought. Wait, how do I get back to the ladder? Those marble halls all look the same. What if I get lost? The house said the dagger would tell me after it takes a life. I guess that settles it.

Catwoman lifted the dagger again, then drew it back to reconsider the issue, then she cursed and lifted the dagger once more with both hands. As her hands plunged down, she saw Sindella's eyes blink open.

"Uh?" said Sindella.


Giovanni's Journal
20 February 1919

… Magi claim a tradition of honorable dueling. But the more records I study, the more I find conflicts ending by ambush and other bandit tricks. They live in a permanent Wild West. …


In the floating study.

Batman returned from helping Zatanna to find Abdiel and Zachary settled into makeshift battle posts. Abdiel wore a mask that disguised him as a large vase. Zachary was enchanted the color of wood and knelt behind a stack of shattered chairs. Piles of debris and the remaining furniture had been pushed into concentric circles, offering some cover whatever direction Faust approached.

Batman hid under a rug between some cabinets. He had been relieved to learn that hiding behind furniture was not as useless as it sounded. A few inches of lumber offered slight but genuine protection in a magic fight, like a helmet in an artillery barrage. At least this was true against the limited strikes of most duels. Yes, more bombastic spells could sink, caramelize, or evaporate the whole study at once, but these were slow performances in a fight that might end faster than a fencing point. Even Faust was unlikely to unleash such devastation casually.

Batman fidgeted with the magical trinkets fastened across his person, turning their names and descriptions through his memory like a child exploring the faces of a block. Some of these gifts were single-use, so he hadn't even tested them. He could only rely on dubious advice.

He wondered why Catwoman hadn't returned. He hoped Zatanna found a better hiding spot than he had. He hoped he wasn't about to die. He forced himself to relax. The only true strength and only true weakness was the mind. He finally willed himself into a meditative state. Pain faded from flesh. Anxiety quieted from thought. Soon he was sensing but beyond sentiment, present but beyond time, open to everything and nothing.

Time passed. Soon the defenders heard a faint singing in the air - the sound of the brothers' alarm spell. Zachary snapped his fingers to silence the spell. They studied the horizon, looking to and fro for any movement above the lapping waves.

They spotted a dark cloud. The cloud drifted low over the water, spreading as it approached. Bolts of lightning flashed like hot filaments through the foggy interior. Abdiel was the first to see the black silhouette at the sinister heart of the cloud. His mouth went dry and he quaked at the sight. Every lightning flash lit a new feature of the silhouette, showing it was Lord Felix of Faust.

The cloud thinned as it neared the edge of the study, revealing the full man as nothing less than an angel of death. Faust's face was an empty smile. He shouted over the wind, "Poltroons! Sneaksbies! You charily scurry, do you? Will no one redound their dignity and stand?"

Batman gripped a hand-carved javelin. Tied near its head was a golden necklace. In one motion, Batman stood, tossed aside the rug, faced Faust, and threw the javelin.


Giovanni's Journal
6 June 1928

… The Nullus chain interrupts many magics … I nailed the necklace to a baseball and tossed it at cousin Proserpina. I missed by a yard, but it stopped her levitation and shield. She tumbled to earth, hurting herself. I gave her no chance to recover. …


The javelin sung through the air. Faust finally noticed the weapon at the top of its arc, and he watched with dull surprise as it plunged towards his chest. When Abdiel and Zachary saw the attack, they rose from cover and shouted a spell, sending a helix of orange energy and a salvo of steel darts at Faust respectively.

The javelin passed through Faust and he disappeared. Not only did he disappear, the javelin seemed to mop away the dark cloud as it passed. An instant later, the orange helix crossed this empty space and dissipated, then the darts flew by as well. The javelin plopped into the sea.

Before Batman or the brothers could react, Faust splashed out of the water on the opposite side of the study. He landed on the edge of the platform with a throaty cackle and pointed his palms at Abdiel and Zachary, launching bright red beams at their backs.


The room beyond the auxiliary treasury.

Catwoman flinched when she saw Sindella wake. Instead of stabbing Sindella through the chest, Catwoman scraped her collarbone, ripping her sleeping gown, and sunk the dagger through the mattress. Catwoman and Sindella looked at each other, and it was difficult to judge who was more frightened.

Then Sindella winced and touched her collarbone, now welling red under the white fabric. She lifted her hand and saw a few drops of blood on her fingertips. Her eyes went wide and a shrill wail began to vibrate high in her throat. Before she broke into a full cry, both women heard a muffled growl from the mattress. Catwoman pulled out the dagger and found the blade's steel whorls were now a bloody red. It shook with another predatory growl. "Finish her!"

Sindella finally screamed and scrambled to the far side of the bed. "Please! Please don't kill me."

Catwoman rubbed her eyes. "Ma'am, I'm not thrilled about this either."

"Now!" screamed the dagger.

"You hush," said Catwoman.

"Please, I'll, I'll-" Sindella paused to squint at the dagger. "Is that-? That's the Sharib Aldam!"

Catwoman shrugged. "Probably."

"How-" Sindella's fright turned instantly to rage. "What have you done to Giovanni?" She lifted to a crouch and seemed ready to jump.

Catwoman stepped back. "Nothing. Never met him."

"Lies!" screamed Sindella. She dived off the bed and tackled Catwoman. The impact shoved Catwoman into the wall. Sindella didn't relent, clawing at her face and landing crude punches. Catwoman was seeing stars from hitting the wall. It took effort to not accidentally stab Sindella, and more to debate whether she ought to. Keeping the dagger at her side left only one arm to protect herself, and that wasn't enough. Sindella grabbed Catwoman's chin and shoved her into the wall again.

"Kill!" screamed the dagger.

Catwoman finally stabbed the dagger into the doorframe, muffling its growls. With both arms free, she forced Sindella back. Sindella landed one more slap before Catwoman caught her wrists, pulled her into a rear bear hug, and dragged her back to the bed. Sindella kicked and howled every step.

Catwoman pushed her onto the bed. "Sit!"

They both struggled to catch their breath. Sindella finally rose to sit, pushing hair out of her face to glare at Catwoman.

Catwoman ignored her sulk. "Listen, are you Mrs. Zatara?"

"Yes," said Sindella with as much dignity and spite as she could muster. "Who are you?" Catwoman noticed that she had a crisp Turkish accent.

"It's a long story," said Catwoman. "I'm a friend of your daughter and-"

"Zatanna? But your-" Sindella pursed her lips. "What year is it on Earth?"

"1941."

"Oh." Sindella touched her face. "Oh, dear."

"Your daughter is here, and she's in danger"

Sindella's face went white. "What?"

"Look, the house says I need to kill a mage to save Zatanna, and you're a mage."

"What? In danger from whom?"

"Do you know the name Felix of Faust?"

"Impossible!"

"You do. Okay."

"Your story is mad, but you sound earnest. Like you speak the truth."

"Lady, I am far past lying tonight."

"But Shadowcrest should make short work of the Lord of Faust. And where is my Giovanni?"

"Faust has Giovanni. And Shadowcrest is gone."

"Gone? What is gone? What gone?"

"Look, I wanted to be nice, but I don't actually have time for questions." Catwoman pulled the growling dagger out of the wall. "Are we doing this the easy way or not?"


In the floating study.

The red beam cast at Abdiel was stopped inches from his back by a golden ripple in the air. The ripple seemed to drain Abdiel's mask which shredded itself to dust, returning him from a large vase to a large man.

Faust's other red beam narrowly missed Zachary, blasting away the top of his chair leg fort. Zachary flinched as wooden shrapnel stung his face.

Batman dropped a smoke bomb, crouching behind the ring of debris.

Abdiel hissed a disgusting chain of vowels as he waved his hands. Two bookshelves near Faust folded into something like panthers and jumped at him. Faust pointed briskly at each like a symphony conductor and they became mangoes. At the same time, Faust muttered and punched the air toward Abdiel. A pewter candlestick jumped out of the debris and smacked Abdiel in the face.

Faust was about to make another gesture when a batarang sunk into his hand. Faust stumbled back and held the wounded hand close. He looked around frantically but couldn't spot the attacker. He heard the next batarang and disappeared in a green flash.

Faust appeared twenty feet in the air and spotted Batman behind a desk. Before Batman could react, Faust cast a silver beam that blew the desk apart and sent Batman tumbling. Faust pulled the batarang out of his wounded hand, and the narrow wound quickly scabbed shut. Meanwhile, Zachary wiped the splinters from his eyes and pointed a fountain pen at Faust. A jet of ink gushed out of its tip like a fire hose. Faust made a sweeping motion with his hands, and a gust of wind blew the ink aside, burning and bubbling where it landed. Faust clapped and reversed the jet entirely, shooting the ink back at Zacharry at full speed. Zachary had just enough time to drop the pen and fold his fingers into a diamond shape. This gesture repelled the ink from his upper body, but a bucket's worth sprayed his legs and feet. Zachary screamed and fell. A geyser of smoke rose off his pants.

Before Faust could deliver a killing blow, Batman rang a tiny bell. The ringing carried across the study, making everyone instantly dizzy. Faust tumbled through the air, struggling to find his equilibrium. Zachary continued to scream.

Abdiel was already dizzy from the candlestick, but the bell made it worse. He clung to a marble statue and tried to stem a bloody nose. When he saw Faust wiggle through the air, he fought through his own distress and drew a tasseled wand. With an elegant wave, the wand fired a snowball. The snowball flew a loop then began to chase Faust, following his every dip and turn.

Faust was bobbing upside-down when he noticed the snowball. He pointed at it and muttered a three syllable palindrome in an ancient tongue. The snowball looped and raced back towards Abdiel, now a little faster than before.

The effort of using the wand disoriented Abdiel even more. He gaped when he saw the snowball turn around. The snowball flew nearer. It was only yards away when he managed to gurgle through his bloody nose to say a five-syllable palindrome that rhymed with the first. The snowball looped and raced again towards Faust, now a little faster than before.

The steady ringing faded to a hollow clang, and the room-wide sense of vertigo ceased, leaving Zachary's screams as the only sound. Batman dropped the tiny bell. He stood out of cover and threw a heavy coin at Faust. Faust caught the coin. As it sizzled with dark energy, he calmly pronounced a seven-syllable palindrome that rhymed with the first two. The snowball had not traveled half the distance from Abdiel when it looped and returned faster than before. Faust idly tossed the coin and fired another silver beam at Batman, detonating his cover.

Abdiel was in full panic, watching wide-eyed as the snowball flew towards him. He tried to wheeze out a few syllables, then coughed and tried again. At the last instant, Abdiel disappeared in a puff of smoke. He appeared halfway across the study, and the snowball pivoted to follow. Abdiel sputtered out another word, but the incoming snowball forced him to vanish again, appearing near the fireplace. He was visibly pale now and could hardly speak. He was preparing to vanish when Faust shot him through the stomach with a red beam. Abdiel made a hitching gasp and started to fall when he was hit by the snowball. There was a blue flash, and Abdiel was frozen in a block of ice.

Faust finally righted himself and floated gently to the edge of the floor. Zachary's last scream had faded moments ago. Faust let out a haunting peal of laughter that echoed over the wind. He seemed winded but unharmed.

"Come out, come out, little bat." He chuckled. "We have so much to do."


The room beyond the auxiliary treasury.

Catwoman held the dagger behind her. "Try to relax. I promise I'll make it quick."

Sindella held her hands to her mouth. "Lord Felix of Faust threatens Zatanna?"

"Yep." Catwoman grabbed Sindella's shoulder and pressed her gently to the bed.

"You want to kill him?"

"That's the idea." Catwoman switched her grip on the dagger.

"Then bring me!" Sindella demanded. "I will kill him!"

Catwoman looked skeptical. "He's a tough customer. You-"

Sindella grabbed Catwoman's arm. "I am the toughest customer. I will kill the world for my daughter."

"Kill!" barked the dagger.

"Yes!" Sindella's eyes were bright with conviction. "If I fail, then I will fall on that hideous blade, and you will have your weapon. I will swear so in parley."

"Sorry, but if the best you can do is jump and scratch, you don't have a chance."

Sindella scowled. It was a face so bitter that she stopped looking like her daughter. "This prison muzzles me. Free me, and my magic will be unstoppable."

"If your magic is unstoppable, then how were you imprisoned?"

Sindella forced her scowl into a cold line. "As you say, that is a long story."

"Hm." Catwoman had the impression that Faust would be out of her league by age alone. And Catwoman had no idea how her 'falling on the blade' plan was supposed to work in the middle of a fight. But whatever Sindella's skills, she would know how to navigate her own house. That meant she could lead Catwoman back to the study. Then Catwoman could kill one of those brothers and use the dagger as intended.

Zatanna might object, but that was a problem for later.

Catwoman was about to speak, but then she considered that freeing another mage would be stupid. Every mage she had met was a murderous lunatic, and so far Sindella seemed unstable even by their standard. Also Catwoman had repeatedly threatened to kill her, which was not an ideal foundation for trust.

On the other hand, Sindella was offering to swear in parley. Magic people seemed to take that word seriously, whatever it was. Faust had broken parley, but then the huge bat tossed him into orbit because of it. Parley sounded like a safe bet if it carried penalties like that.

Catwoman let go of Sindella's shoulder and lowered the dagger. "What exactly are you promising?"

"I will serve you until Faust is defeated to your satisfaction. I will follow your every word and do you no harm, not unless you have lied about the threat or threaten her yourself. I must save her, Miss-"

"Catwoman."

"Catwoman, then. This is my pledge."

Catwoman was acutely worried that making magical contracts was a skill a person ought to study thoroughly before trying, or at least a skill that shouldn't be practiced half-asleep.

She stuck out her hand. "Deal."

Sindella looked at her hand then clasped it. "So mote it be."

"No!" shouted the dagger.

"Shut up," said Catwoman and Sindella.


In the floating study.

Lord Faust raised a hand, and a barrier collapsed. He gestured, and another barrier fell. There were few left. Faust heard a faint shuffle. He smiled and scattered another.

In a loud voice, he said, "I am in a mood of surpassing clemency, Batman. I have decided to take you alive. Will you surrender?"

He heard no response but the wind.

Faust sneered. "Your trifling defiance matters not. I will have you."

There was a flash of black around the side of a chest, and a batarang flew at his head. Faust disappeared in a green flash, reappearing twenty yards beyond the other side of the chest. He saw Batman crouching behind the chest and looking urgently around. He saw Faust just as Faust fired a jet of white mist at him. Batman vaulted the chest and hid on the other side. The mist bloomed around the chest, losing most of its momentum. Where a finger of mist touched his cheek, the skin went numb. Batman held his breath and covered his face with his cape.

Faust watched Batman hide and made a series of three fluid gestures. On the third, a large crystal appeared above the chest like a shooting star. Batman looked up in time to see the crystal rupture, scattering a hundred streamers of gray-blue slime. Still holding his breath, Batman lifted his cape just as the slime splashed over him and the floor. The substance stuck like tar and was remarkably heavy. He managed to catch almost all incoming slime on the cape, but its impact forced him to let go. The dropped cape almost pulled Batman off his feet, but he tugged on a hidden release cord and the cape slipped from his shoulders like a lead blanket.

The rain of slime had dispersed most of the mist. Batman peered around the chest and saw Faust midway through another spell. Batman tossed a metal pellet from the hip. Faust lifted a palm, freezing the pellet in midair, but the flash bomb still detonated, blinding him. Batman grabbed another batarang, but Faust had already vanished again.

Batman looked down. A little slime had splashed on his boots, and he quickly scraped it off. He was near the edge of the platform and noticed that the foam of the surf didn't wash away the slime when it slid over the floor. He looked up and found Faust rubbing his eyes at the far end of the study. Batman pulled out a tool like a gray pool ball: the distance sensor he had used at the Lisbon. He knelt and pressed the sensor into a slime puddle, then he dived into the sea.

Soon after, Faust finished the complicated spell to clear his eyes. Technically, it was the spell to make his ears act like eyes until his real eyes recovered. Ear-eyes had a distractingly-panoramic field of view and terrible depth perception, but he was able to look around. Upon looking around, he failed to see Batman. This was very frustrating. He was not disposed to patience. Besides the searing pain in his original eyes, he had a motley of other aches from being tossed many times tonight. His arm stung like a nest of ants was biting him, as it always did after being regrown. His clemency was diminishing by the minute.

Faust lifted into the air but Batman was still nowhere to be found. Faust was trying to remember the counterspell to overcome invisibility when he saw movement in the edge of his distorted field of vision. He spun, trying to orient sideways to the movement and get a clear look at it. Several times he faced the direction normally, which was his ear-eyes' blind spot.

Before Faust could get a clear look, Batman climbed out of the water. He had swam under the width of the study, which was difficult in boots and a rugged bodysuit, but he was Batman. He saw Faust pivoting high in the air and fastballed the distance sensor. It hit Faust in the back of his indigo suit jacket and stuck thanks to a coat of slime. Batman pressed a switch on his belt and the sensor began beeping.

Faust flinched when he was hit in the back and reflexively disappeared. He appeared on the floor behind Batman, but Batman heard the beep, turned, and threw a batarang before Faust had even found his footing. The batarang cut his face, and he disappeared again. Faust appeared floating over the sea, but Batman was ready. When he heard a beep, he twisted and threw a marble ashtray at Faust like he was picking off a runner at first. The ashtray hit Faust in the chest, and he disappeared again.

On the next appearance, Lord Faust conjured a shield that deflected Batman's next projectile, a fire poker. His original eyes were mostly clear of dots from the flash bomb, so now he saw using four overlapping fields of vision. His brain was not prepared for this. It took a moment to return his ear-eyes to standard ears. In that moment, a smoke bomb popped at his feet, rendering his vision adjustments moot. He called forth a strong wind to blow away the smoke, only to find Batman sprinting at him.

Without a cape and in clear light, Batman did not look ghoulish. Faust had seen ghouls. No, Batman was only a large man determined to steamroll Faust like a defensive lineman whose life depended on disassembling a senior citizen.

Faust flicked two fingers. The end of a floorboard bent out of the floor, its end sloped to a thin edge. This spontaneous stake emerged one step ahead of Batman and speared him just below the ribs. The wooden edge was not sharp enough to impale him, but it tore along his torso as he bounced off. Batman let out a sickened grunt then stumbled three more steps and collapsed.

Lord Felix of Faust tore the beeping sensor off his jacket. Black threads began to patch the fresh disfigurements across his wrinkled face. He was soaked with sweat and rocked with tremors.

Faust crushed the sensor and shook his head. "I did not wish for violence."


The room beyond the auxiliary treasury.

"So, how do I free you?" asked Catwoman.

"Invite me through the door," said Sindella.

"Simple. Love it." She walked out to the treasury and turned around. "Sindella Zatara, you are cordially invited through this door. How's that?"

Sindella's mouth was dry, but she managed a nod. She stood frozen at the threshold.

"Hey." Catwoman tapped her wrist. "Unless you're trying to put the 'dead' in 'deadline', we need to move."

Sindella found this comment disgusting, but the disgust motivated her to step through the door.

"Well?" asked Catwoman.

Sindella looked around, holding herself tight. "I am good," she said.

"Yeah?"

"Yes." Sindella stretched her fingers and watched twinkles of light blink between them. She broke into a delighted grin. "I am most good."

Catwoman tightened her grip on the dagger. "Fantastic." The red tint had faded from the steel and the dagger was silent again.

Sindella began to whisper in some deviant form of Latin and tenderly traced her hand along her wounded collarbone. In seconds, the dagger's cut recovered from red to fresh pink. On her next pass, the skin healed completely. It was, Catwoman judged, two months of recovery in five seconds.

For her next trick, Sindella snapped her fingers and her sleeping gown transformed into a shimmery black dress with a high collar. She floated an inch into the air and a pair of shoes appeared on her feet. Her hair set itself into a fine coif.

Given the circumstances, Catwoman kept her questions to herself.

Sindella pulled at her sleeves, nodded, then looked around again. "Were there statue guards here?"

"No idea," said Catwoman, urging her forward.

"There's a bar missing from that stack of gold."

"Don't think so."

"See, it is shorter than the others."

"Must be magic."


In the floating study.

Batman lay on his side on the floor. He looked vacantly into the distance as he stuffed all of his gauze into the long wound across his stomach. The gauze was already saturated red. A little spillover dripped to the floor. He unbuckled his belt, pulled it higher to cover the wound, tugged the strap two notches tighter to secure the gauze, then buckled it again.

Lord Faust watched him bleed with mild interest. "You intrigue me, sirrah. Do you know who forewarned me of you, Batman? What deep waters you've stirred?"

Batman said nothing.

Faust said, "You are the object of no less a personage than the great Circe."

Batman looked up, his mouth slightly open.

"Yes," said Faust. "Circe stands in the shadow of my majesty, of course, but I am fain to vouchsafe she is no less great as my inferior. Forsooth, she strides above many beings of import. Her thone is lofty beyond reckoning to a mundane. Yet you have won not only her gaze but her fury. Wondrous! Truly wondrous. You must have quite the tale. I shall insist you share at an hour more propitious." Faust licked his cracked lips. "Mmm. Her discomposure is the sweetest wine."

With lidded eyes, Faust savored the daydream of Circe being inconvenienced.

The ancients of the mystic world shared centuries of history, and the only way to tolerate a person for eternity was to maintain a code of etiquette. For this reason, Faust saw no contradiction in plotting Circe's downfall while capturing Batman for her. That was simply polite. A favor was worth a lot when you could lord it over someone for a millennium. Faust was doubly eager because it had sounded like Batman might be responsible for causing Circe some scandalous failure. Faust would go to great lengths to keep Batman alive to hear that story.

But as much as Lord Faust enjoyed getting one up on Circe, that game was a secondary pursuit. The venerable Shadowcrest estate was nearly in his grasp. It was time to end tonight's little spat.

Faust gently dismissed his daydream. "You stay here," he said to Batman. He waved his hands in wide ovals and chanted a spell. Five heavy chains materialized around Batman, binding him from shoulders to shins. Faust inspected his work. It was tight, and the boy's crude medicine would keep him alive. Batman struggled against the chains but quickly stopped out of pain.

Faust snorted. "Jobbernowl. Yet, all the same …"

He pointed at Batman's face and summoned another jet of white mist. Circe warned him to be careful with this one. As the mist thickened, Batman's head wavered and soon fell limp on the floor.

Faust made a satisfied noise and turned away. He knew Batman was holding his breath and only feigning sleep. Among other clues, the mist didn't work so quickly. But Batman couldn't hold his breath forever, and he wasn't going anywhere in those chains.

Now for the coup. Faust sensed that the young heir was behind the fireplace. She must be hiding with the last of her court, the violet lady with the whip. An untrained mage and another mundane. Nothing to challenge him. A routine task for one as mighty as Lord Felix of Faust.

However, as he strode to the fireplace, Faust was unaware that he had made a mistake. His observations were correct: Batman's chains were tight, he couldn't hold his breath forever, and he wasn't going anywhere chained. However, Faust was unaware that a mundane could escape a few tight chains in one breath. This took special training, but Batman had been trained by the best.

When Batman struggled against the chains this time, he did so carefully and with technique. And he silently bore as much pain as it took to finish the job. The third loose chain freed his arms. By then Faust was nearly at the fireplace. Batman hopped to his feet, ignoring the stabbing across his waist. Faust heard him and turned. Batman had already pulled a pair of red sunglasses from his belt. He put them on.

As the Cehennems had advertised, Batman immediately fell in the direction he was looking.

It was normal for the human eye to shift several times a second, even when trying to focus on one point. This was a natural way to maintain balance and safety. Now it did the opposite. When Batman donned the sunglasses, he was looking at Faust's back. He was taller than Faust, so he fell forward and at a slight angle down. His feet immediately dragged on the floor, followed soon by his shins. Alarmed, Batman glanced down to inspect the problem. His body stopped moving forward and fell flat on the floor. His head bumped sideways, so his prone body slid sideways, bouncing erratically several times a second as he tried to see where he was going. Spells fired past him, but he was too erratic to catch. Finally, mercifully, he bounced into the sea.

He had enough momentum to keep the sunglasses on the nose guard of his cowl as he splashed underwater. He whirled through columns of bubbles. When his direction steadied, he was racing straight down. The water was cold at the surface, but it was becoming frigid and fading to black. Fortunately, he fell through the water much more slowly than air. Batman finally managed to remove the sunglasses. He peered sluggishly around, trying to find his way up. He was finally able to spot the surface, a dim and distant glow.

Batman had taken just one breath before putting on the sunglasses, and most of it had been knocked out of him against the floor. His lungs burned. His wound was in extraordinary pain. And then a fin slapped his leg.

Batman looked straight up, willed his pupils to stay still, and put the sunglasses on. Snapping his arms to his sides, he shot up, cracking the surface and popping skyward like a cork. He let himself get higher and higher, gulping air until it was too thin to bother. Flying this way was still a tremendous challenge, but he had the entire sky to practice in. And he needed it, often glancing down on impulse and falling a hundred feet before he could correct himself.

He discovered that he could close his eyes to return to regular gravity. He discovered this because it happened automatically every time he blinked. Another helpful move was to lift the sunglasses briefly off his eyes. This also returned his body to regular gravity, but he could look around as he fell. Batman learned the knack of lifting the lenses, peeking at what he wanted to see, then looking back at the direction he wanted to fly before lowering the lenses again.

Batman quickly acclimated and flew descending loops towards the study. He wanted to be bait, and it worked. He saw Faust flying up to meet him. They circled each other. Faust flew nearly as fast as Batman and with vastly more control but was unwilling to approach too boldly. By contrast, Batman dive-bombed Faust at every opportunity, and was far more nimble without the burden of inertia. Faust occasionally cast a spell that would throw up some obstacle or net, but he resorted little to magic during their chase. It seemed to take most of his focus just to maneuver, and he wanted to save his energy for the right moment.

By the luck of the fight, Batman's moment came first. Timing just right, he flew above Faust and closed his eyes. He plummeted twenty feet and landed on Faust's back. Between the white mist, the frigid water, and the chilled air, Batman was almost entirely numb, so he didn't feel this impact. Faust did. He cried some nonsensical curse as they plummeted toward the sea. It must have been the classic non-magical sort of curse as Batman didn't catch fire or face any similar impediment. He would not give him the chance.

Many of Batman's tools were welded to his belt by metal cords (to prevent feline-themed theft). One was a grappling hook. Batman slung an arm around Faust's throat and swung the hook into his side. Faust screamed. Their dueling flight magics shook the pair back and forth, and Batman's red sunglasses finally whipped off during an erratic barrel roll.

Faust tried to maintain altitude, but together they continued to plummet. Maybe his magical powers were insufficient for the task. Maybe it was because Batman had pulled the hook deep through fabric and flesh and was now punching Faust in the side of the head as often as he could.

Faust tried several times to vanish. But after every green flash, he found Batman still hanging on his back. Now that Faust was wearing the hook; they would vanish together. Just as the Cehennems anticipated

Finally, tumbling at terminal velocity, they hit the water without surface tension. If Faust assumed that Batman would feel compelled to swim away, he was mistaken. Batman kept an arm around his throat and refused to move. He seemed eager to make sure they both drowned.

With his last dim thought, Faust cast a desperate spell to be launched to safety. He had acquired it lifetimes ago at enormous expense. It was single-use, so he had kept it for a rainy day.

He and Batman blasted out of the water like a cannonball. The hook dislodged mid-flight, so they drifted gently apart. The pair crossed the quarter mile to the study and landed at a shallow, angle, skipping across the floor. Batman went so far he nearly slipped off the far end, but he wasn't aware of this. In fact, he was unconscious. He had been unconscious since his second dip in the water. This was largely due to blood loss: the pile of gauze in his wound slipped out during his first dip in the water, though the blunt impacts and hypothermia may have contributed.

Waves splashed Batman, and one finally woke him. He vomited water and curled on his side. He felt desperately weak. He looked at himself. The good news was that his last two chains had fallen off his legs. He rose to his knees. When he tucked the grappling hook away, he realized his shoulder was dislocated. He grabbed the wrist of that arm, tensed, and popped the shoulder back into place.

He crawled to a smashed cabinet and sat against it. He pulled off a glove, put it in his mouth, and bit hard. He unbuckled his belt and laid it aside. Then he took out his thermite applicator, a tool like a thick soldering iron. Holding it in his gloved hand, he turned the knob to medical and set the tip above the edge of his wound. He tried to take a few deep breaths, snorting through the leather in his mouth. He breathed faster and faster then pressed the trigger. He saw a tremendous halo of sparks. He screamed, then his mind went gray.


In the spiraling hallway of dark red marble.

As Sindella and Catwoman ascended the hallway, Catwoman often urged Sindella to go faster, but Sindella routinely slowed to catch her breath. Catwoman supposed that humans weren't meant to sleep for years. But then something unnatural would happen. The first time her eyes shone purple. The next time glowing fireflies circled under her skin. Sindella wasn't forthcoming about why these were happening, and Catwoman was out of ideas.

It got worse when they reached the section of wall with rings of geometric etchings, the spot where Shadowcrest had seen Catwoman off. When Sindella crossed the rings, she held her stomach and stuck out her tongue. "Ugh. I feel as if someone placed garlic in my Listerine."

Catwoman looked around. "I don't feel anything."

Sindella pursed her lips and held the wall for balance. "We've entered the domain of the house spirit." She took a deep breath. "I believe I feel its absence."

"Is it that bad?"

"The spirit is meant to be here. It is a wrong feeling, yes. But we must go on."

Gradually the color of the red marble turned pink, and the pair reached the maze of endless hallways. They made good time at first, but Sindella's stops grew longer and more frequent, and the strange phenomena grew stranger. Tongues of flame lined her arms. She started floating. Her voice turned impossibly husky. Each change lasted seconds, but Catwoman grew more unsettled each time, and she was badly struggling against sleep again. She even stopped hiding how Sindella's changes made her clutch the dagger.

Secretly, Sindella was all too pleased to see Catwoman's nerves fray. She passed the time with a few reasonable questions: how Catwoman had arrived, how Giovanni was trapped, and how Zatanna was doing. Catwoman's answers were careful at first, but she was too exhausted to watch her mouth for long. Soon she was sharing every personal opinion that came to mind: her hopes, her fears, who she wanted to hit with a bus, and who deserved something less gentle. At first, Sindella acted the perfect disinterested stranger. But answer by answer, she would offer a word of support, or innocently suggest a perspective that justified Catwoman's biases, or mount a flimsy argument that Catwoman could enjoy demolishing.

With diabolical finesse, Sindella made Catwoman feel good, and Catwoman had precious little to feel good about lately. Catwoman hardly noticed as she stopped seeing Sindella as deranged witch and began seeing her as a friend.


In the floating study.

Batman came to his senses in agony. His ugly cut was now a white bed of blisters. The surrounding skin was seared bright red, and bits of fabric were fused across it. That was the least serious consequence of cauterizing a wound; there were many worse, but if it bought him a few more minutes, then it was worthwhile. Batman looked around for the applicator. All he could find was a smoking hole in the floor next to him and the sea rolling beneath.

The Dark Knight pulled on his glove and slung his belt over his shoulder. He forced himself to stand. One foot didn't want to hold his weight. His knees weren't cooperative either, and there was something very wrong with his spine. He found a pool cue to use as a walking stick. Batman tottered around and found Lord Felix of Faust kneeling in the middle of the study. Patches of his head and the hook wound in his side were slick with black webbing. His eyes were unfocused. He wasn't moving.

Batman was a few paces away when Faust finally stirred, trying to stand. Batman hit him in the forehead with the pool cue. Faust toppled over, but Batman caught him by the collar and kneed him in the hook wound before letting him drop. Then Batman stumbled on damaged knees. He sat down, produced a syringe from his belt, and gave Faust a shot in the neck.

Batman felt a new rush of weakness and dropped the syringe. He slumped over and fell asleep.


In the endless pink hallways.

Catwoman threw up her hands in disbelief. "And then this Abdiel crumb offers his help, like he's some bloody hero doing us a favor. Like he hadn't held a heater to poor Zatanna an hour ago."

Sindella gasped. "The scoundrel."

"And somehow I'm the only one with the decency to smack his teeth in. Suddenly, everyone looks at me like I popped champagne at a funeral."

"I can't believe they showed such ingratitude. You are very brave to defend Zatanna this way."

"It's nothing."

"But you are, dear. She's is blessed by the fates that you came along. I say it is you who is the true hero."

Catwoman shrugged. "Sure, but I'm not asking for a parade. I just don't understand why Batman hasn't knocked his head off. What is he waiting for?"

"Perhaps he lacks your keen sense of justice."

"Maybe you're right, Mrs. Zatara. It's not like Abdiel has some noble excuse. I'm telling you, this lard balloon is the worst. Who kidnaps their own cousin? You couldn't find a colder reptile at the zoo."

"I remember my nephew. He was always no good."

"Hold on. You knew Abdiel?"

"Well," Sindella hesitated, "He was a baby. But he was a very bad baby."


In the floating study.

Batman woke up feeling very wrong. He was no longer numb. He was no longer in pain. Also he was standing.

Lord Faust sat patiently in front of him on a stool. He looked like he had woken up on the wrong side of a hurricane, but he didn't appear bothered by his battered condition. When he saw Batman was awake, Faust looked pointedly at Batman's chest.

Batman glanced down and found that his body was now a tree. Where he felt arms, he saw branches, and where he felt legs, he saw a trunk and roots. Logically, he would have expected no sensation in his tree limbs - wood had no nervous system - but his body still felt like flesh. It was merely very stiff. He forced himself to not panic.

"Are you humbled to civility, Batman?" Faust asked. "I tire of these mephitic japes."

Batman said nothing.

Faust held up a syringe. "What futile poison was this?"

Batman seemed amused. "You wouldn't recognize it."

"Infant, I have read the natural philosophers for more generations than you've had winters. What was it? Hemlock? Arsenic? I can find myself well enough, but you'd save yourself grief telling me now."

"Does the word 'radioactivity' mean anything to you?"

"No. What poxy rascality is 'radioactivity'?"

"You should take a chemistry class this century. Radioactive material toxifies blood in a way unlike any plant or mineral poison of antiquity. Your traditional remedies are useless."

"Nonsense. You bluff."

"I've heard blood is sacred in magic. It's the one bodily component even you can't replace. Not in a hurry. And believe me, Felix, you're in a hurry."

"That's Lord Faust to you, churl."

"For a regular man, the damage would be irreversible in less than an hour. I'm not sure the timeline for your metabolism changes the timeline, but you may want to get your affairs in order."

"Irreversible in less than an hour. You imply there is a cure if a chirurgeon intervenes posthaste?"

"Yes, if they can diagnose which of the many radioactive substances is responsible and know the cure. There are maybe five doctors on the planet with that experience. But then you might be doomed before their tests finish. On the other hand, I know the cure right now."

"You think I am at your mercy." Faust stood and began to pace. "Your terms?"

"Free Giovanni Zatara. Do what you can to heal the Cehennem brothers. Leave and never bother the Zataras again."

"You wish me to swear that?"

"Your oaths are mud. But the cure doesn't happen in one dose. You would need me to prepare you fresh doses for months to purge your system. Until then, I own you."

"I see."

"And I'd rather not be a tree."

"Lenient. But what prevents me from torturing you until you share your cure?"

"You think pain can change my mind?"

"I've rarely been disappointed by the fruits of it, but let's suppose not. Still, your threat is hypothetical."

"You're willing to take that risk?"

"Do you have a way to prove it?" Faust held up a hand to stall a response. "Because I do."

He snapped his fingers. An electric light flickered from inside the scraps of a broken shelf nearby. An unseen speaker hummed and crackled with fuzz. Then a nasally announcer spoke.

"Loyal listeners! Welcome back to Candid Psychic Radio, the only station that plays what's really on your mind! This just in, we are behooved to bring a baleful bulletin: a sylvan sentinel suggests sinister science! Will the syringe surreptitiously sicken the saboteur's sanguine system? Has the knight errant erred? Poison or ploy? Only on CPR!"

Faust snapped again, and the broken shelf caught fire.

The nasally voice spoke much faster. "It was a bluff. Radioactivity is real and dangerous, but the injection was nothing but a mild sedative. This is CPR. Goodnight."

The radio shut off. Faust made a final snap and the fire died. He looked past Batman in silence for a moment. Then he nodded to himself and looked at Batman. "Commendable. I'm most eager to hear how this same guile confounded Circe." He stood and walked towards the fireplace. "If you escape, I won't spare you thrice."

"Stop!" shouted Batman. "I'll do anything."

"You've certainly proven that." Faust entered the fireplace and disappeared.