Chapter 15 - Unseen Revelations
Diagon Alley, London, 2015

"Invisibility cloak," Jack Sparrow called. "What's that then?"

"A cloak," Owen grunted, flattening his hands out against the pane of frosted glass. "That makes you...eh...invisible. Surprisingly."
He pushed, suddenly, and the glass sheet fell inwards. White, cold hands shot forward to catch it before it shattered on the shop floor.
"We're in," Owen nodded. "Just step over and act natural. You'd be amazed by what you can get away with in a wizard's street. The strange...doesn't seem...so strange..."
He finished fitting the glass window pane back into place as Jack stepped through. They stood in the gloom of the shop, surrounded by rows upon rows of dusty old cloaks. The thick cobwebs that clung to the rafters waved, slightly, caught on some sluggish draught and sent spiralling about, dangling and bobbing away. The shop had been closed for some time, it seemed.

"Will you want to know why your new employers want to acquire such a cloak, or will further questioning not be necessary?" Owen asked, disappearing into the murky shadows of the store's back room.
Jack stood, for a moment framed by the dim glow of outside light that fought to penetrate the thick grime that layered the window pane, and then strode towards the heavy-topped counter. He rummaged through the drawers, slinging himself down into a dusty leather swivel chair behind.

"Alright, mate," he drawled, drawing out a golden-topped bottle from the counter's lower drawers. "What do my esteemed - and not at all murderous or treacherous - new employers want with a cloak what can make said wearer...mmm...invisible?"
He unscrewed the bottle and gingerly sniffed the gloopy brown syrup within. There was a clatter from the back room and a curse. He shrugged, and tipped the bottle back.
"Investment," Owen grunted, emerging from the murky depths of the store. Coated in chalky, powdery dust, he held a slender wooden crate under one arm. He spat, spitting out no spittle but a cloud of dry ashes. It nestled in his eyebrows and clung to his leather coat.

Walking over to where Jack reclined behind the counter, Owen put the crate down and patted himself off. The dust billowed everywhere, distorting the store's shadowy interior for a beat, making everything not only dark but hazy.

"An investment," Owen repeated. "Is my best bet. Something's coming. I don't know what. But it's something big. And when it comes, they want to know that they have assets."
"Assets like that there invisibility cloak?" Jack noted, rapping on the thin wooden crate with one of his heavy brown boots.
Owen shook his head. "That isn't the cloak."
Jack frowned.

Owen pulled a clasp knife from the inside of his jacket and brought it down on the crate. He levered it open it one neat, crisp movement. The wooden box fell apart, revealing a single, dimly glowing ring nestled on a bed of gossamer white straw.

Jack sat upright, pulling himself closer. Owen smiled, wanly. An emerald green glow touched their faces, briefly, flickering.

"That," he grimaced. "Is a power ring. Used by some interstellar police force known as the 'Green Lanterns'. This one was recovered by the Company some time in the late 40s, just off the coast of Cuba. Its past wielder was washed up on the west coast, State-side, some months later. A six-armed blue fucker the size of a house. Came down to Earth from God-knows-where without a ship."
"Hold on there, mate," Jack raised his hands. His eyes never left the ring. "Aliens?"
Owen gave him a sceptical glance. "Don't say you haven't heard stranger."
Jack thought for a moment, and then shrugged. "Go on."
"The ring is powered by will-power. With it you can do pretty much anything your imagination can come up with...fly through space, punch holes through walls, punch holes through planets...whatever."

Owen reached down and picked up the ring, delicately. He held it between thumb and forefinger, turning it over, gently.

"It got some use in the 50s, when some giant lizard monster rose up from the sea to attack Japan. The Company decided they wanted to bring it in for testing thanks to some healing factor it had going on, and sent a squad out with this ring to neutralise it. The boys that tried out this thing then didn't really know what they were doing, ended up running down most of its power and taking out most of Tokyo. So now we have an under-powered ring that we can't recharge."

"What I don't understand," Jack gestured, his eyes following the ring as Owen turned it over in his hands. "Is why our Company friends chose to put it here, in this funny little wizarding shop. I had assumed, by the inconspicuous manner in which you have made me travel here, that the wizards weren't exactly on our side."
"They aren't," Owen admitted. "but the ring's former owners aren't either. Right here we can hide the ring under the ward of the wizard's magical fields, which seem powerful enough to distort whatever scanning facilities the Green Lantern Corps have looking for this ring. The ring isn't particularly potent in the state it's in nowadays, so it isn't too much of a risk to leave out of Company grounds. Besides, this store is better protected than it might seem."
Jack raised an eyebrow, slowly. "Mate, I don't know if you can recall, but we crawled in through the window."
"Company technicians installed a security field around that," Owen said, flatly. "They have every man and woman under Company jurisdiction DNA tagged. If you weren't the right person, you'd get fried. Not magic, as such, but good technology. Works just as well."
"You have my DNA tagged?" Jack frowned.
"Yes," Owen said. He turned blank, dead eyes on the pirate. "The Company has had your DNA tagged and recorded in its libraries since 1987. I checked your files. An agent called Wagner acquired it without your knowledge. Problem?"

Jack exhaled. "Not at all, mate."
"Good."

Owen reached out and opened Jack's palm. He dropped the ring carefully and closed Jack's fingers around it.

"There isn't much juice in it left, and what it can do now seems to have been limited by wear and tear. The Company psyche profile claims you fit the bill for the will-power this thing needs to operate, and so you'll be the one doing the hard work. We have maybe an hour of use left in it at a rough estimate, so you haven't time to mess around practising."

"Practising for what?" Jack asked, distantly. He was staring at his closed fist, which glowed, faintly.

"The invisibility cloak," Owen snapped. "It's in Gringotts. That's a fortified wizarding bank. We're going to break it open."