Author's Note:
This is the final chapter of Batman 1939: Three's Company, and, in all likelihood, the final chapter in the Batman 1939 series.
I will share some closing notes here in a few days, including details about my next writing project. If you're interested, follow my website, fredwattswrites -dot- com.
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy.
Batman 1939: Three's Company
Chapter 23: The Adventure Continues
Three weeks later. Late afternoon. Gotham City.
Every working class neighborhood in Gotham had gangs. Like all delinquents, they enjoyed skipping school, stealing candy, vandalizing trains, chasing dogs, lighting fires, and other lawless pastimes. But their favorite pastime was to fight.
That didn't mean it was anarchy. There were rules. Gangs fought other gangs, and it was proper to set a place and time. So long as the fights didn't involve bystanders or end in the hospital, the community turned a blind eye.
Last year, the Lowell Street Gang broke the rules. They first rocked the boat when they fought their neighboring gangs more often than was polite. Then they fought all their neighbors' neighboring gangs. Then things turned nasty. Some Lowell Street boys, ages fourteen to seventeen, brawled with a crew of longshoremen at a pool hall. They picked fights with railroad guards and loan sharks. The boys were often hurt or arrested, but the minute they were back on the street, they were back to fighting. They were insatiable. It was a miracle they still had all their eyes and limbs, but everyone knew their luck would end one way or another, including Batman.
Normally, Batman wasn't concerned with boys fighting, but he made an exception for the Lowell Street Gang. He had a simple plan to scare them straight. When Batman appeared in their hideout, he expected the gang to cry and run. When they saw him, they all attacked. He gently swept the first attackers to the floor. As he dealt with the next pair, the original attackers stood and attacked again. The gang rushed Batman for three minutes before he wore them out.
Fighting is painful and exhausting. Any child who earnestly attacks a large adult for three minutes despite having no chance to prepare, despite every attack being stopped cold, and despite the opponent being Batman, really loves to fight. Batman won the battle, but his plan was hopeless. They weren't going to stop and take up baseball.
A truce was called, and they got to talking. Batman suggested the boys join a boxing gym. They explained they had no money, and all the gyms thought they were hooligans, particularly after they had tried to fight several gyms. The conversation quickly wound towards a solution: Batman agreed to teach them.
The boys haggled on the details, but they shook hands soon enough. The Lowell Street Gang would all stay in school or keep an honest job. When they fought, they would only fight other boys, and only by the most gentlemanly street rules. This meant no weapons, no cheap shots, and only on grass. Otherwise, the gang would commit no crimes. And if they had knowledge of criminal activity, they would snitch to Batman.
In exchange, Batman would train them to fight for two hours every two months. If that sounded meager, to Gotham boys it was like getting legal advice from Abe Lincoln or doing bible study with the Pope. The lessons have run smoothly ever since.
Batman expected this program would be entirely a burden: a small sacrifice for charity. But he discovered that teaching brought two unexpected benefits. First, his students proved an excellent source for crime tips. Second, he finally had sparring partners.
The Caped Crusader fought often, but he couldn't practice his martial art systematically while on the job. A mob enforcer wouldn't stand still and let him practice fifty side kicks. A corrupt safety inspector wouldn't join him for a rules-compliant collegiate wrestling match. And it was impractical for him to get in the ring in his other identity: too many risks and not enough time. Batman was forced to train alone; this was limiting to say the least.
But the older boys in the Lowell Street Gang were capable sparring partners, and they were more than eager to prove it. Batman kept this restrained, of course, but there were many valuable drills short of a full force bout. And when the rest of the gang watched, these drills made superb demonstrations.
At the moment, Batman was surrounded by eighteen boys on a decommissioned subway platform. The group was growing each class; friends from other gangs were tagging along. He'd need to talk to them about that. The boys wore boxing gloves and headgear and stood on a large grid of plywood.
Next to Batman was a nineteenth boy, Paul, one of his largest students. Paul waited with his fists up. Batman's cape was folded in the corner, and he wore a softer version of his gloves without armor or spikes. He had their full attention as he spoke.
"You can spot a boxer is his mastery of the jab. Among the basic punches, the jab is the fastest, the least tiring, and sacrifices the least balance or defense. Watch my feet." Batman turned and threw three identical jabs into Paul's guard. "I'm pushing with my rear foot and rotating my hips." He threw three more jabs. "My legs and torso contribute most of the force. My arms are quick because they stay loose. Not entirely loose: there is finesse in the position and tension of your arms through the strike. But for now, we can still develop an effective jab by practicing footwork and keeping our arms fairly loose. Paul, did it hurt to block me?"
"No," said Paul.
"No. Jabs aren't hammers. Some boxers have a jab with knockout power, but its main uses are to control the space of the fight and limit your opponent's choices. Jabs can measure distance, create distance, stun, disorient, and counterpunch. I'll demonstrate what that looks like."
Batman nodded, and Paul shuffled forward to attack. Batman stayed fairly stationary and largely defended with jabs. Paul readied several punches only for Batman to frustrate each with a faster jab to the arm or chin. Then, instead of stopping punches, Batman slipped or ducked them, and countered with jabs, punishing each miss. When Paul advanced, Batman leaned in and jabbed him mid-step. Paul had the longer arm span, but these little pushes had the uncanny effect of keeping Paul just out of the range he needed for good contact.
Paul grew more aggressive and finally pushed through to land a crushing hook across Batman's face. Batman stumbled back. Paul seemed shocked, and the students muttered. But Batman smiled and held up a hand. "Good." He gathered his wits and continued the lecture. "And that's why it isn't wise to stand still. What is the key to boxing?"
"Footwork!" cheered the students.
"Footwork. Stay moving. Jabs can be thrown for full effect while advancing, retreating, sidestepping, and pivoting." Batman nodded at one of the students in the circle. "One minute."
The student tapped a bell.
Paul moved to attack again. Batman still responded exclusively with jabs, but now he moved freely, dodging most of Paul's strikes by sidestepping and weaving. Batman launched jabs at interesting angles, catching Paul by surprise and impressing the class. Batman didn't always connect, and several of Paul's punches landed, adding tension to the fight.
Batman wasn't going easy on the kid; he was too slow to dominate the way he used to. He had regained basic bodily control in the weeks since his mystic transformation, but his muscles and lungs had only those of a common man. Years of aggressive conditioning were lost. He was especially eager to teach today. He needed a controlled environment to test himself now more than ever. He had to learn what his new body could do before he could trust it on the street.
After a minute of boxing, the bell rang again. Batman was breathing heavily. "Thank you, Paul." Paul returned to the circle of students. Batman waited until his breathing slowed. "Remember, this is Queensberry rules boxing. It's designed for padded gloves. I encourage you to wear gloves anywhere you might fight. If you aren't wearing gloves, then don't aim for your opponent's head with a closed fist. You probably know that a barehanded punch to the skull can hurt your hand, but you should also avoid your opponent's mouth. Their teeth can easily cut your hand and cause infections."
A student raised his hand. "Oi, what if he ain't got teef?"
"I don't see how you could be certain of that."
"Cause he takes his dentures out."
Batman considered this. "I suppose that's fine."
"Neato."
Batman pointed at a spot on the floor. "Everyone, line up facing the wall. Keep your guard up. Throw five jabs while advancing. Pivot. Throw five jabs while retreating. Then-"
Suddenly, there was a flash of blue light. Zatanna Zatara appeared. She wore a wool coat over a paisley dress. She heard shouts and noticed the crowd of sweaty young men in boxing bear gawking at her. She was equally shocked in return.
"Zatanna?" said Batman with obvious restraint as he put away two batarangs.
Zatanna gave him an embarrassed wave. "Am I interrupting something?"
Batman gave his class a quick order, "Pair up. Light sparring until I get back." The boys were still in disbelief, but they knew Batman didn't ask twice. They spread out and started hitting each other.
Batman led Zatanna briskly to the end of the platform behind a ticket booth where they had a modicum of privacy.
Zatanna folded her arms and looked up at him. "Hi."
Several expressions tried to reach Batman's face, but he kept it blank. "Zatanna."
"That's my name." She started to chuckle but it died on her lips. "Sorry for dropping by unannounced. I was going to call, but you made it sound like I was only supposed to call if I was in danger, and I'm not in danger - not really - and I wanted to respect your rule, and I guess doing it this way felt more respectful." She looked away. "And now that I'm saying it out loud, I realize that sounds like an odd conclusion."
Batman's features softened slightly. "It's fine, Zatanna. How did you get here?"
"Magic. I'm learning magic. Didn't I mention that? Real mage magic." She wiggled her fingers. "The spooky type."
Batman kept his voice calm. "You can find me using magic?"
Something in his tone alarmed her, because she held up her hands innocently. "Don't worry! I can only do it once. See, I needed your blood. You left some in the study, but only enough for one go. At least with the spell I learned."
Batman hardened his face to conceal a fresh rush of disapproval, which Zatanna misinterpreted as a request to continue.
"I figured I'd come in the late afternoon, since I figured people see you around town at night, and I didn't want to interrupt you during that, but I also didn't know if you have a job, so I didn't want to bother you during business hours. This seemed like a good compromise."
Batman took a steadying breath. "That's … considerate."
Zatanna bit her lip. "Can you go easy on the voice, John? It'd be nice to hear you the old way."
Batman studied Zatanna. She had a new look in her eyes: grim and careful and terribly tired. She might sound flustered, but this was not the shy woman he met before. He noticed her left arm was bandaged under her sleeve. Life had taken a bite out of Zatanna Zatara.
He tempered his voice. "What can I do for you?"
Zatanna relaxed an inch. "It's good to hear you again." She peeked around the ticket booth. "Do you mind if I ask what you're doing here?"
"I teach boxing."
"In the subway?"
"We vary the location."
"I didn't think you were ever seen before sunset."
"It's a school night."
"Oh."
"Zatanna, what is it?"
She leaned against the booth. "I came because my life is strange, and I really need someone normal to talk to, and I realized you're the most normal person I know." She laughed. "And that made me sad, because you're not normal, and I don't know you. I'd say I'm the most pitiful gal in the world, but I'm not even in the world."
Batman tried to give her a comforting look. He looked constipated instead, but he almost managed to smile. "Wait here," he said.
He returned to his class who was busy fighting. "Listen up." The boys stopped and formed a new circle around Batman. He looked across the group. "I'm afraid I can't finish our lesson today." There were some groans from the boys, but he added, "To make it fair, I'll teach three full lessons this month. How's that?"
The class muttered but quickly voiced their approval with claps and cheers. He nodded. "Good. I'll contact you later to set a new schedule. Gather your equipment and get home safe."
Zatanna was watching from the corner of the ticket booth. As Batman walked back to her, more than a few of the boys whistled behind him. Zatanna blushed and hid. Batman rolled his eyes.
He reached Zatanna and asked, "Would you like to talk somewhere more comfortable?
Zatanna looked uncertain. "Actually, I'm still new at travel spells. I've never tried bringing another person."
"I meant by walking," said Batman.
"Oh." Zatanna seemed taken aback at the concept. "No, here is fine. Maybe if we sat down?"
As his class climbed over the gate barricading the other end of the platform, Batman and Zatanna found a bench and sat.
Batman glanced at her bandage. "May I ask what happened to your arm?"
"Oh, nothing." Zatanna looked down and scratched her arm. "Remember that Little Mage's First Primer series we found? Most got burned up, but dad knew about another partial set in the library. The problem is it's French. We all know a little French, so we've been translating the first volume together, but I guess there's some details lost in translation because I've had a couple accidents. This time I was trying to heat a cup of tea and my arm caught on fire."
"I'm-" Batman's throat tightened. Eventually, he muttered, "I'm very sorry to hear that."
"Oh, it's fine. Nothing you did. Heck, better French than none at all."
Batman tightened his fists and ground them into his knees. "Aren't there other books you can study?"
"Ha. Millions. But without a house spirit, the library has no librarian. Finding what you want is like winning the lottery. There's a card catalog, but, let's just say it's unfriendly."
Batman forced his hands to relax. "I see."
Zatanna noticed his tension and jumped to conclusions. "I am sorry for popping in like this, John. I guess you like your privacy. You know, because of the mask, and, uh, silence." Zatanna clasped her hands between her legs and looked away. "I miss being a traveling magician. I've always been more comfortable in-costume. Life's messy, but I'm in control onstage. At least then I know what I'm about. Gosh, I haven't worn one a stage costume since mom stole mine. That's what, a month? Month and a half?"
Batman frowned at her. "It's only been three weeks."
"Right!" Zatanna rubbed her eyes. "Time is funny in Shadowcrest. I lose track." She groaned. "I can barely stand it there some days. Did you know I've found nineteen bathrooms so far? And only one has modern plumbing. Do you know what happens to the waste when you use the other eighteen toilets?"
"No."
"Neither do I! Each sits above a portal to another dimension! What if there are people in that dimension? What if they get angry at me? I'm scared to use them. And don't get me wrong, these are nice toilets. One is made of ivory. Guess what kind of ivory."
"Elephant?"
"Walrus. Ask me how I know."
"How do-"
"Because I met the walrus. His name's Cadbury, and he lives in an underground pond beneath the wine cellar and eats clams. His tusks grow so fast that he sheds them twice a week and he spends all his time carving furniture out of his own tusks and he likes dirty jokes."
"Zatanna-"
"The whole house is ridiculous. I can't reach half the rooms because they're upside-down or only exist on leap years. We still haven't cleaned up from Faust's mess. Did you know a big part of the library destroyed itself? Scraps of paper everywhere. And it's always night. I'm sick of the night. You know, I researched how to change the sky to daylight - I figured it's not the actual sky, so there must be a way to switch it - and I discovered it's a switch. A big switch, bigger than me, in the middle of a random bedroom. But there's a warning label that the switch may release minotaurs into the house. Minotaurs, plural. Do you know what a minotaur is?"
"Vaguely. It's a monster from Greek myth."
"Yeah. It looks less mythical on a warning label. Apparently, whether or not the switch releases minotaurs depends on the current phases of the moons when you flip it. Moons, plural. All the moons in the solar system. Do you know how many moons are in the solar system?" Batman began calculating, but Zatanna interrupted, "Too many! How am I supposed to figure that out? I want daylight, but it's just not worth the risk."
"Is this the first time you've left Shadowcrest?"
"No, but we only leave to go grocery shopping, which for some reason we have to do in Switzerland. Dad doesn't think it's safe to spend too much time away or go alone. He doesn't know I'm here."
Batman casually asked, "How is your father?"
Zatanna suddenly stood and paced. Her voice turned stark. "John, I needed to talk because I'm scared I'm losing my mind. I'm stuck in this giant house learning all these wild lessons. And everything's dangerous, and my pets are my cousins. And I get to spend all this time with my dad, and I love him, but I can't look at him the same way because I know he killed people my whole life. And it was to protect me, but I don't know. And I'm scared my evil mom will find me, and I want to see my evil mom again, and I don't know what else. I keep having nightmares. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in weeks. Do you have any idea what that does to you?"
Batman also stood but said nothing.
She spun and looked at him. "Well?"
He couldn't meet her gaze and looked down. "Exercise helps."
"What?"
Batman spoke softly, "The nightmares. Try running, swimming; the activity doesn't matter. But you have to press on until it hurts. That stops the nightmares. Sometimes."
"How long have you needed that?"
"Longer than I've known you."
Zatanna sniffed and wiped her nose. "Here I am gushing again. You must think I'm a regular waterworks."
"What do you mean?"
"It's kind of you to play dumb." She sniffed again. "You didn't ask for me. You probably want to be out there punching people, or teaching children how to punch people. You don't need me complaining after everything you've done for me."
"Zatanna-"
"I'm no better than last time."
"I don't know what you mean."
"You and Catwoman were incredible. You fell into these impossible problems and made it look easy. Both of you were beautiful. I was useless, just crying all night. I usually don't cry. Honest! When I'm on tour, I can go days without feelings, and I'm almost always on tour." She sobbed. "Or I used to be."
Batman sat again on the bench. "Zatanna, please." He pointed at the side beside him.
She took the seat. "I can't seem to stop thinking about that night. I was so confused and frightened and angry-"
"Of course you were," said Batman. "And you were brilliant."
Zatanna hesitated and looked at him. "What does that mean?"
Batman looked back at her. "Zatanna, I meet people on the worst night of their life. They're all frightened and angry, and that's perfectly understandable. But many also turn selfish or callous or paranoid or cruel. Maybe that's understandable too, but it hurts to watch. These are good people, but something breaks, and that's all they have underneath: smallness of spirit."
Batman lifted a hand and slowly, when she didn't move away, placed it on hers. "Zatanna, you didn't break. You were faced with the same problems, and again and again you were compassionate and patient when you had every reason to be mean. Even when it risked your life. That takes tremendous strength of character. I hope there's a part of you that appreciates that, because I do."
Zatanna broke into a fresh stream of tears, which she tried to stem with her other hand. She finally managed to mutter, "You're just being nice."
"I couldn't have done better. You had to endure so many painful discoveries and dilemmas, and in the end, you saved us. I'd say you had a more challenging night."
She laughed through her tears. "You were a tree."
"Yes."
"You're a queer duck, you know that?"
"I've been called worse."
They sat a minute, several of his fingers resting on several of hers. Every so often, she sniffed and rubbed her face.
On a sudden whim, she gestured at his suit. "Why 'Batman'? Why do you do this?"
Batman responded in a thoughtful voice. "I can't tolerate people being hurt. I have to help, and this is the only way that makes sense."
"Ever try a soup kitchen?"
He very nearly smiled. "How is being a magician? You're a celebrity, after all."
"Celebrity? That's funny. You could count on two hands the people who know my name with enough fingers left over for the king to drink tea. You're a bigger celebrity than I'll ever be."
"You'll get there."
Zatanna shrugged despondently. "It was fun being a magician."
Batman looked at her again. "Zatanna, you don't need to learn this kind of magic."
She sighed. "I knew you'd say that. While I was building up the courage to see you these past few days, I spent so much time thinking how I'd respond to that. Why do I stay? First I decided that dad and my cousins were right, and I needed magic to protect myself. What if Faust comes back, or some other meanie finds me? They keep saying I should at least learn enough to resurrect the house spirit and learn some good defenses. Then I'll be safe enough. Maybe they're right.
"But then I thought, is that my real reason? The real reason is that I want to learn magic to heal mom. Dad hasn't come out and said it, but I know he wants it too. He wants it so bad, but he's not a mage. It's up to me. They say anything is possible with magic if you learn enough. Even if it takes twenty years, I'll figure it out. I don't think I'd forgive myself if I don't at least try. Because she's my mom. I mean, wouldn't you? To save your mom?"
Batman looked troubled, but before he could respond, Zatanna closed her eyes and confessed, "But between you and me, even that's not the whole truth." She cleared her throat. "I wasn't going to say this, but even if all those other reasons weren't around, I just like it."
"Like what?"
"Casting a spell makes me feel powerful. It's like the best tricks I ever pulled on stage and then some. Magic is-" She kissed her fingertips. "Incredible. You remember how I hated school? Well, the easiest spell is ten times harder than any book report, but I'll study ten hours straight just to get it right. There's so much danger, but there's such a thrill at the end. Don't you love a little danger? And the satisfaction of it!" She shivered. "I love feeling like I can do anything. I feel like I'm a bird and I finally noticed I have wings."
Zatanna's mood had changed from despair to glee in a few sentences, and Batman found the grin on her tear-stained face unsettling. He considered his next words very carefully.
"Zatanna," he said in a serious tone.
Her grin faltered. "Yes, John?"
"A long time ago, I told you it wouldn't be right to share my life. That's still true. There are many things I can't tell you. But I was wrong to think in absolutes. I can't share my entire life, but I hope I can share a little."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Our lives are strange, and they're getting stranger. I think that puts us in a unique place to understand each other. Whatever choices you make, I want to help. I'm glad you came here tonight. If you have a problem, or you feel anxious, or you just need a friendly ear, I'll be there. Never hesitate to ask."
Zatanna sniffed again and swallowed. "That's a swell thing to say. Are you sure? You have lots of people to help. You are Batman."
"It's not charity. This may come as a surprise, but I don't have many people to talk to. And there are times even I need advice. If you aren't too busy. I may not show it, but I do enjoy when we talk."
She smiled and covered her mouth. "That might work."
"Was there anything you wanted to talk through now?"
"That'd be nice, but I really should get going. I bet dad's going crazy looking for me, especially with the time difference."
Batman nodded. "I understand."
"I'll have to convince him it's not the end of the world if I leave more often. Can I call sometime?"
"Whenever you'd like."
"By the way, what's Catwoman up to?"
"We haven't spoken."
"Shame. You two make quite a team." Zatanna said this airly, but kept an eye on his reaction.
"We're not affiliated," he said with indifference.
"I'd be nice to thank her again. Think she'd be willing to stay in touch?"
"Probably not."
"Oh well." Zatanna stood and waved her hands in a circle. "HTAP OT EHT NOBSIL!"
A swirling blue vortex appeared in front of her.
"Eht nobsil," muttered Batman as he stood. "You're going to the Lisbon?"
"That's right. It's a long story, but we can't move the door in dad's apartment. There are no spares left, and I haven't learned how to make a new one, so it's our only portal to Shadowcrest for now."
"I assumed the Lisbon would be under renovation. Or demolished."
"It won't be. We bought it."
"You purchased the Lisbon?"
"Yeah, besides all the other secrets dad was keeping from me, it turns out he's been rich this whole time. Shadowcrest has all sorts of jewelry boxes and treasure chests around. Yesterday, I was trying to find some bath towels, and I found a diamond the size of my fist in a linen closet. Honestly, I was a little upset when I remembered all the times growing up that he said we had to stick to a budget. He says he didn't want to draw attention."
"You sold enough precious gems to afford a dense residential lot in an upscale neighborhood?"
"The lot was on sale for obvious reasons, but dad already had money in the bank. He knows all the tricks. He set up a business to purchase the deed anonymously, then the business hired contractors to make sure the building wouldn't fall down and to refurbish the parts we use. It turns out there's a service tunnel that runs to a cellar across the street, so we don't even need the front door. Though so far, I've just used it as a landing pad when I get back from Switzerland."
"Hm."
"Just thinking about money gives me a strange feeling. I'm used to riding third class carriages and getting my clothes from sheriffs' auctions." She snapped her fingers. "Hey! We should trade rich folk tips sometime."
"Excuse me?"
"Franklin Wash said he worked for one of your parents in their divorce. They had to be super rich."
"You found me out."
She patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, John, your secret is safe with me."
"Thank you."
"I guess if I do get out of the house, I'd need to take up yacht jousting or whatever rich people do."
Who told her about yacht jousting? wondered Batman.
"Hey," said Zatanna, "Can you keep a secret?"
He looked at her.
Zatanna pursed her lips. "Right, dumb question. You won't tell anyone we talked today, will you? Please don't."
"Of course not."
"It's silly. Dad has these strict rules when we go out. I wear a disguise. I talk with an accent. I never go to the same store twice. As if every random Swiss baker is a spy for 'mystic rivals yet unknown', his words." She rolled her eyes. "But I guess he survived this long, so I shouldn't question him."
"It's not a problem. I won't tell anyone."
"Thanks. It would put his mind at ease if you kept my visit between us. And twenty junior prizefighters, I guess."
"They'll keep their mouths shut."
"Thanks." Zatanna looked at the portal, then looked back at him. "Can I ask one last question?"
"Of course."
"When you came to study with us that summer, did you already have all this in mind?" She gestured at his suit. "Were you getting ready to be Batman?"
"I hadn't worked out the details, but yes."
"Too young to shave, and you decided to learn stage magic to catch bootleggers"
"That's right."
"Did you have fun with us?"
"Fun?"
"Fun. I'm sure you've heard of fun."
"I enjoyed it. Magic is an engaging game: ingenuity versus perception. I found it fascinating."
"Do you miss it?"
"I miss seeing the tricks you'd invent."
Zatanna raised her eyebrows. "You do?"
"You always impressed me, Zatanna. It's a shame I haven't seen your shows. You were fantastic as a child; I can't imagine what you've achieved with fourteen years of practice."
"Maybe we can fix that." Zatanna smiled and walked close to Batman. "You're right. I'm all grown up, and there is one trick I've been meaning to share." She wrapped a hand behind his neck.
"Zatanna?"
"Presto!" Zatanna lightly smacked the back of his head.
Batman was confused. Then he felt a scratchy tightness in his throat. Something was lodged in his throat! He coughed, and the obstruction shifted. He coughed again and it flew out of his mouth. Zatanna caught it and held it up.
It was a creased playing card, a two of hearts, clean and dry.
Batman stared at it, then looked at her.
Zatanna winked.
—
Meanwhile, in a mysterious location.
The ballroom was jumping, and the Champagne flowed like a stream. The big band in the middle deck played with zip and vim. Their set tended toward yesterday's hits, but the host was a little old-fashioned that way, and the band was so sharp they reminded the crowd why these were hits in the first place.
Most guests were glued to the dance floor, but the few couples who wanted to cool their heels on the balcony could enjoy the sight of a massive nebula spinning through the night. On the other side of the ballroom, a lion and an ox in tuxedos stood guard at the entrance of a dim private room. A line of guests waited nearby. One by one, the ox would beckon a guest forward for the lion to sniff. Some guests were waved inside, but most were turned away.
At the front of the line stood Sindella Zatara in a fetching gold dress. On her wrist was a ribbon tied to a tiny cage. In the cage was a cockroach. The ox beckoned her forward. She stepped ahead as the lion leaned forward to sniff her. Its hard was as large as half her body, and its breath was hot, but Sindella waited politely as it did its job. The lion spent longer on her than most guests, taking extra effort to sniff the cage tied to her wrist, but it eventually let out a yawn and waved her inside.
In the private room, Circe lounged across a plush loveseat and drank a cocktail. She looked over the rim of her glass as Sindella walked in.
Sindella curtseyed. "Lady Circe."
Circe tapped her cheek as she studied her guest. "We've met. It was a long time ago, but I know we've met."
"Sindella, your grace."
Circe looked delighted and laid a hand on her chest. "Sindella Cehennem, as I live and breathe."
The cockroach shouted, "You won't be doing either when I'm finished with you!"
The delight on Circe's face grew to utter ecstasy. "No! Felix?" She glowed with joy. "Felix, is that you, darling?"
"Bah!" said cockroach, "My setback is temporary, dissipated wench."
Circe sat up and clapped with glee. "Oh, Sindella, Sindella, you have made my day! My week! No, my year!" She stood and kissed Sindella on each cheek, then pulled her to the other cushion of the loveseat. "Gerald! Drinks!"
"A waiter appeared out of a painting with a tray of cocktails. Circe lifted two and handed one to Sindella. They clinked glasses and drank.
Circe said, "Sindella, dear, what brings you here?"
"Well, your grace-"
"Pish! Call me Circe."
Sindella smiled and lifted Faust's cage before their eyes. "Circe, I have quite the little story to share."
—
One week later. Gotham City.
The King Leopold Academy of Arts was the city's smallest college. Over the past year, the Academy's School of Painting continued to struggle (while its rival, the School of Theater, still rode high on that motion pictures fad). Lately, the School of Painting was leasing space to the Federal Art Project, a New Deal program to keep artists employed. One floor of the school would be used as a community art center to exhibit the work of local painters.
The dean and faculty of the School of Painting were not thrilled. They considered their school to be a refuge for elite, sophisticated, and decidedly rich students. It rankled their sensibilities to have a gaggle of commoners stinking up the place with their welfare art thanks to that socialist Roosevelt. But the decision had been made over the dean's head, so he had to put up with it.
As it happened, one of the classrooms used for this community art center happened to be the same classroom where Batman and Catwoman rendezvoused last December to negotiate their intrusion of Fort Morrison. It was November this time, but a cold wind still rattled the windows, and Catwoman found it all too easy to break in.
She looked around and liked what she saw. There were some bold, intriguing works here. She made a mental note of the painters' names for the next time she went shopping. Contrary to reputation, Catwoman did purchase art, and she liked to support local up-and-comers. Perhaps she would stop by during the day.
She was lost in an art fugue when she heard his classic, "Catwoman."
Catwoman turned. Like last time, Batman had come through the door. This time their introductions were less adversarial.
"Batman," she said.
He nodded. They met in a stripe of moonlight on the floor.
Catwoman noticed something was different. She planted her hands on her hips and eyed him up and down. "You look slim."
"Likewise."
She scoffed. "Cute. Really, what happened?"
"Sindella's healing left some changes. I had to tailor the suit."
"Uh-huh. Well, let's get to business. The good news: no one bothered me about the book."
Batman grunted. "Hm."
"Did Zatanna reach out to you?"
"No."
"That's a surprise. I bet she will soon."
"We'll see."
"In the meantime, take a look at this." Catwoman opened her satchel and handed him an envelope. He unwound it and slid out a stack of large, high-resolution photographs. Each was of a page in an old book. Catwoman tapped the photographs. "This is the whole Primer. You can keep the envelope. I have my own copies."
"Where's the original book?"
"I hid it."
"Where?"
"Maybe it's better you don't know. That way you can't be blamed. It's far away from where I live, and I touched the thing as little as possible, in case they can track it back to me by scent or something. I thought about destroying the book, so there's nothing to track, but I figured that might curse me, just going by fairy tale logic. And yes, I'm aware 'fairy tale logic' is probably a contradiction."
"Given how little we know, I'd say caution is reasonable." said Batman agreeably.
"Speaking of how little we know, I hope you find these photos useful. I understood a fair bit, but together we might master this nonsense."
"I'll see what I can do."
"Good. I haven't changed my mind, by the way: these wizards will be back in our lives sooner or later. It won't be pleasant. We need to be ready next time. We need to know how to hurt them."
"I suspect you're right."
"So we're on the same page?" asked Catwoman. "We research magic and watch each other's backs?"
Batman nodded. "We do." He flickered his hand and a card appeared in it.
She grinned and took it. "I guess you can find my number on your own?"
"Already have."
Catwoman pocketed the card. "By the way, did you have any luck learning about that earlier magic you mentioned?"
"It's a work in progress."
—
Two weeks later. The Adriatic Sea.
The Adriatic was known as a calm sea, but tonight's storm was as wild as any ocean squall. Sheets of rain pelted the chopping waves, while the unrelenting gale rolled thunderheads the color of steel across the sky. The world was dark in that oppressive way particular to stormy nights at sea.
A short fishing boat bobbed in the waves. Everything aboard was as dark and quiet as possible: the navigational lights were off and the engine cowling was dampened with heavy sheets. The boat had departed unseen from a cove in Montenegro and was now twelve nautical miles out to sea. It was nearly invisible in the lashing rain, but the captain took no chances. He wouldn't even light his cigarette.
The Adriatic was an Axis lake. Its western shore was Mussolini's Italy, and the Balkens to the east were under fascist control. The Italian Navy ruled these waves. The nearest Allied port was little Malta, over six hundred miles away. The captain found fascist domination very lucrative. He had once been a fisherman, but the war offered bold captains more valuable trade. His current deal was to ferry a passenger to a partisan camp in occupied Greece. He cared little about his passengers and saw them as little as possible.
However, even with his full attention, he wouldn't have recognized that tonight's passenger was Wonder Woman. She sat on the floor of the boat's rear cabin, injured and depressed. The cabin had no windows, so she was allowed a single candle. It provided little heat, but Wonder Woman still cupped her hands near it as she listened to the thrash of rain against the cold hull.
The last of the Balkan nations had fallen to Axis forces within the past year. But the Balkens were no more governable than usual, so Rome and Berlin were trying to hold the land using an unusual reliance on local leaders. The region was a fragile patchwork of allies, puppet states, and occupation zones. This fragile situation attracted Allied intelligence services who sought to muck it up.
Lately, attention was on the Kingdom of Kaznia. The Kaznian royal family had kept their kingdom independent longer than most by teasing an interest in joining the Axis freely. Whenever the Germans sent envoys with a treaty, the Kaznians delayed with court intrigues that made it unclear who had the authority to sign. Hitler eventually grew so frustrated that he invaded Kaznia in September.
Some of the royal family surrendered, others were captured or killed in the fighting. But rumors reached American diplomats that one royal, Princess Audrey, was still hiding, and that she wished to leave and form a Kaznian government in exile. Wonder Woman had been sent to Kaznia to find Princess Audrey and bring her to safety.
Wonder Woman had failed this mission, barely escaping with her life. The Princess would soon be locked in a castle with a hundred fascist guards. She would probably be married off to some cousin to support the new puppet dynasty.
As Wonder Woman sulked, she heard a knock on the door. This was a surprise: she assumed the captain was busy at the helm. She stood and opened the door.
Outside, Batman waited in the pounding rain.
They stared silently at each other, only two feet apart. The night was so dark and her candle so dim that even so close he appeared more a shadow than a man. Wonder Woman was startled, of course. She nearly pushed him over the side. She almost screamed. She considered closing the door. But for a time she did nothing, and he seemed content to wait. The spray against her legs eventually convinced her to act, and she ushered him inside.
Batman entered the cabin, dripping streams of rain.
"Diana," he said.
Wonder Woman closed the door. "Batman," she answered.
"I met a man who claimed Circe is looking for me."
Wonder Woman's frame tensed, but with no threats near, she could only stand rigid.
Batman let her process the news before he spoke again. "You recognized that name before, and it made you upset. If this Circe concerns both of us, perhaps we should work together."
Wonder Woman watched Batman suspiciously, but she didn't need her lasso to sense he was earnest. Finally, she made a slow nod. "Perhaps."
"Then I'll start with another request. Teach me about magic."
The End
