Issue 6: "The Isle of the Witch"

But Steve Trevor was not dead, only betrayed. He sank beneath the deceptively placid waves of the frothy ocean, struggling against the fate that closed in around him. He did not have much air left in his lungs, and so dark was the water that he could not tell if he was still sinking, or if his frantic efforts were causing him to rise.

In his mind’s eye, all he could see was the smug and triumphant look of Hippolytus as he hurled Steve into the water. The Amazon Prince had at last shown his true colors, but no one knew but Steve! He had to live, if only to save Diana from the designs of her vile cousin.

Summoning up his every reserve of energy, Steve kicked and flailed and at last broke the surface of the water, inhaling precious, sweet air in a heaving gasp. The fog was a wall of white around him that swallowed his calls for help, and the Serapis was nowhere to be seen. He treaded water, casting around desperately for some sign of what direction to swim, but his visibility was limited to a few feet.

He could not expect help. He was sure that Hippolytus would tell all that Steve was dead, and they had no reason to misbelieve the Amazon Prince. He had to find a way out of this himself…

He was adrift, alone on a sea that was somewhere between the world he knew, and one sacred to strange gods and monsters--- he had seen Diana call upon them, and on more than one occasion, they had answered her! Would they respond to him? It was a weak hope, he admitted, but the only one he had--- and this weird place did seem to be their backyard….

He tried to remember which of the Greek pantheon would be useful in a time like this--- it wouldn’t do to call upon, say Hephaestus, for example… What was the name of the sea-god…? Poseidon?

He concentrated very hard, and tried to imagine the venerable old deity from an engraving in an worn edition of Bullfinch’s he had taken to pulling down more and more often since Wonder Woman had come into his life. How did such a thing work? Was it like a prayer? How did one summon a god?

“Rather presumptuous at the best of times.” A clear, amused voice answered his thoughts, and Steve paddled around to see, sitting atop a rocky outcrop that hadn’t been there a moment before, a man with pale blue skin and a beard that looked like seaweed. He was looking upon Steve skeptically, toying with a necklace of oyster shells that was his only scrap of clothing.

“Lord Poseidon!” Steve gasped, spitting out water he inadvertently swallowed in his surprise.

“Sorry, no.” The being with the blue skin said. “My father is busy elsewhere right now. There’s quite a fuss going on at the moment, what with the Erinyes and Nemesis and Olympus being destroyed… I’m sure you’ve heard all about it already. My name is Triton. Athena set me to watching Aeaea in case Circe started getting ideas…”

“Steve Trevor.” Steve introduced himself, baffled that his plan had succeeded so easily. “Thanks for coming, I thought I was a goner. I really need some help.”

Triton snorted. “I can see that. You’re a mortal man, adrift in the middle of the sea, miles from anything in Kraken-infested waters. But why should I help you? I’m a god! I’m not some djinni or faerie you can just call upon to do your bidding…! What do I get out of this? I mean, I’m not even one of your gods, so you don’t reverence or give thanks to me…”

Steve was taken aback. He had not expected this response. His arms and legs were already getting tired from treading water, and he had to spit some out before he could sputter: “I’m part of a quest! Athena herself sent us on it--- we’re trying to save the whole universe, you included!”

This did not appear to satisfy the dubious Triton.

“The quest is getting along quite well without you. In fact, they just made landfall on Aeaea. You’ll have to do better than that…” He thought for a moment. “I want to help you, I really do, but you understand how that makes me look, right? Is there anyway you could possibly trick me into helping you, just so I could save face…? The nereids would never let me live it down, but otherwise, I still appear to look like just a common wish-granter…”

Steve gurgled out an incoherent reply, trying not to drown and to contain his indignation at the same time.

“I got it!” Triton exclaimed. “A riddle! Are you any good at riddles?” He did not wait for Steve to answer. “If you answer my riddle, I’ll help you. It’s really the only honorable way out of this for both of us.”

Dark shapes appeared beneath the water, and Steve remembered the Kraken.

“Fine, fine! Just hurry!”

Triton thought for a moment, then said: “What has a mouth but does not speak, has a bed but does not sleep? My mother Amphitrite told me that one. It’s actually the only riddle I know.” He shrugged apologetically.

Something massive stirred the water around him, causing Steve to struggle frantically to stay afloat. He thought he saw a writhing tentacle splash above the waves several feet away. He did his best to clear his mind, to wrap it only around the puzzle put before him…

What has a mouth but does not speak, has a bed but does not sleep?

Something brushed his feet, but he pulled it away with a shiver of disgust.

“A river!” He cried, knowing he would not get a second guess.

Triton’s face lit up. “Right! Modern man is not half as dull as the ancients. Off you go, then! Aeaea is closest!”

So saying, the god swung out with both his hands and Steve was flung by some unseen force through the water, as if pulled by an out of control horse. There was a whoosh and a sudden disorientation, and then the next Steve knew he was alone on a beach, coughing and gasping and crawling onto a dry bed of stones. He squinted up, and saw that he was lying near a splintered plinth, and that above him towered a marble likeness of a hideous old crone.

He had made it alive to the isle of the witch… It was making it off in the same condition that was the tricky part…

It seemed like he had been wandering the island for hours.

It was full night now, but the moon was full and the stars were bright. Steve stumbled, lost and dehydrated, through a darkling wood, searching for some sign of the Quest that had left him behind.

His imagination magnified every sound, and he was sure that he was being watched by unseen eyes…

One thought drove his weary body onward: exposing Hippolytus.

Exhausted, Steve Trevor fell to the mossy earth. His breath was coming in heaving gasps, and the dark seemed to be closing in around him.

But Diana needed him. He could not fail her.

He got to his feet--- and saw instantly that he was not alone! In the small grove he had inadvertently wandered into, dark figures shambled out towards him. They were not men, though they walked on all fours and were humanoid in shape, and the spark of intelligence glinted in their eyes. One had the head of a dog, and regarded Steve with a canine curl of the lips. Another bore the heavy-lidded expression of a snake, its tongue probing and tasting the air. Still another crept close to him, fear and curiosity in the face of a fox…

“A man…” Whispered the fox slyly, his long claws clacking together. “A man wanders the cursed wood of Aeaea…”

Steve jerked upright, and everywhere he turned another of the humanoid shaped emerged from the darkness surrounding him. A man with the mane of a lion emitted a low growl, forcing Steve to rethink his original plan of making a run for it.

He held up his hands, non-threateningly. “I mean no harm to any here.” He called out in as steady a voice as he could manage. “I seek only to rejoin my friends.”

The snakeman approached him, circling. “Unfortunate one, there are no friendssss on the isle of the witch! Only losssst sssssoulssss.”

“And fresh meat.” Growled the lionman.

They all seemed poised to close in on him, when he drew from his shoulder holster his sidearm and aimed it at the foxman, who seemed to be their leader.

“Stay back!” He told them, praying the weapon wasn’t too water-logged to work. “I haven’t come all the way from Paradise Island to be the main course at a freak-fest!”

The creatures around him hissed and howled, and some seemed ready to rush him, despite his brandishing of what was obviously a weapon--- but amongst some, there was a sudden sharp murmuring. It was the lionman who bounded forward, silencing all the rest.

“You come from Paradise Island, the fabled home of Hippolyta’s Amazons?” The lionman fixed Steve with an intense stare. “You lie!”

Steve gritted his teeth, but did not lower his weapon, not liking the way the dogman was looking at him. “No. Only it is now also home to Antiope’s Amazon’s as well, since that bastard Hippolytus arrived.”

This caused a greater stir than his previous remark! It seemed to affect the lionman most profoundly, as he narrowed his eyes and regarded Steve thoughtfully.

“We are here to find the Pipes of Pan.” Steve went on in a rush, hoping that he could reason with the bestial man-things. “The big, bad goddess Nemesis is awakening, and the only thing that can put her back to sleep and stave off the end of the cosmos is the Syrinx. We’ve come here to Aeaea to find it.”

“We?” Said the lionman softly.

“I’ve been seperated from the rest of my party. They may already have found Circe by now.”

The lionman snorted. “Chances are the witch has found them. In which case, your cause is already lost. Circe is merciless and her heart is of stone and ice and malice.”

“Diana can handle Circe.” Steve said confidently. “But I have to reach her. I have to tell her about her cousin, Hippolytus. He tried to kill me, and who knows what he has in store for her!”

“This Hippolytus you speak of: he is on Aeaea?” The lionman said with sudden urgency.

Steve nodded, uncertain why this should make the lionman so agitated.

The lionman roared, startling not only Steve, but the other bestimorphs. The other manthings also seemed to be working themselves into a state, hopping and dancing, pawing at the dirt and clawing ferociously at the air. And though it was a fearful sight, Steve knew that their ire seemed to be directed away from him.

The lionman fixed Steve with a terrible glare and growled: “Come, mortal man! I would see the creature who calls himself Hippolytus! We go to pay a house call on the witch!”

“No!” Hippolytus suddenly exploded in a rage that he had been barely containing. He lunged for the witch, but was intercepted by Kalibos. The tusked manthing grappled with the Amazon Prince for only a moment before Hippolytus threw his foe aside with a mad strength, his hands reaching for the startled Circe’s neck.

“Hippolytus!” Diana cried in astonishment, batted aside as easily as Kalibos had been.

A brilliant flash of light erupted from Circe that sent Hippolytus sprawling, shaking his head, dazed.

Circe regarded the fallen Amazon Prince with a haughty expression, cloaked in an aura of witchcraft.

“Mortal princeling!” She spat. “You presume a familiarity with my person you have long since abdicated! I spared your life because of the love I once bore you, but my next blow will be a fatal one!”

Hippolytus ignored the witch, and looked pleadingly at Diana.

“Do not deal with her, cousin! Go not into Hades’ dark land--- only death and misery await you there! Together we can force her to give up the Syrinx!”

Diana stared at him, appalled, but it was Circe who responded.

“Is this the honor of the Amazons?” She sneered. “Take by force what they cannot win otherwise? If I am attacked again, I shall see the Syrinx destroyed before ever I give it up!”

From outside the house of Circe came the howls of many animals and the sound of many herds padded feet. Amazons and the Marines were looking about nervously, but Diana, Hippolytus and Circe were absorbed in their own drama.

Hippolytus was back on his feet, beseeching his cousin.

“I tell you again, Diana, go not into the Underworld! I will expend every ounce of my own might to keep you from that dread place---.”

Before Hippolytus could finish his statement, he was attacked from behind by a furious Kalibos. And at the same time the home of Circe was invaded. From every hall and archway, burst a twisted manthing that Circe called her bestimorphs. Wolves and lions and bears exploded snarling into the sumptuous salon--- and they seemed to be fighting each other! Or rather, it seemed, that those loyal to Circe were defending the house against a greater number who were not under her sway!

The witch cackled with bloodlust as the sudden and vicious melee erupted all around her. She seemed to find it especially amusing when the Amazons and Marines joined the fray, though battling indiscriminately as they had no idea which side they were on.

Diana went into action at once. Instinctively, she dove towards the young soldier whose death Circe had foreseen, pulling him out of the way of a pair of claws prepared to disembowel him. She called for peace, but was unheeded. The sound of automatic gunfire assailed her ears, and she looked to Circe as an unlikely ally to put an end to the savage brawl, but the witch looked as if she were reveling in the chaos.

She was stunned to see the end of Hippolytus’ struggle with Kalibos. Her cousin had managed to catch the fearsome manthing up in his grasp, clutching either side of his head. With nought but a word, Hippolytus caused the creature to begin screaming, and there came the sickening smell of sizzling flesh!

“Hippolytus, no!” Diana yelled to him, appalled at the suffering her cousin was inflicting upon the manthing, creature of Circe or no.

Before she could intervene, though, a leonine figure dropped to the ground in front of her, eyes blazing, teeth glinting.

“Daughter of Hippolyta,” The manthing rumbled. “I don’t know who that creature truly is, but he is not who he claims to be!” The bestimorph pointed a clawed finger at Hippolytus. “The son of Antiope was ambushed and transformed, left for dead on this accursed isle a millennia ago.”

A chill ran up Diana’s spine at the words of the bestimorph. “Who are you? How do you know that?” She demanded, taking a fighting stance.

Amidst the din of battle, a clear voice called her name. Diana turned as Steve Trevor battled past a foe to burst into the salon.

As glad as she was to see him alive, his next words drove all other considerations out of her head.

“Believe him, Diana! He’s the real Hippolytus!”