DC2 Special #7: The Ghosts of Christmases Past

Jonni Thunder looked in awe at the building courtyard; the forest of decorations were bathed in a sea of colored lights, all while holiday music blanketed the festive scene. The girls continued to put up finishing touches in between giggles and sneaking fresh-baked cookies. Where had those come from? the detective mused.

“You know, if you keep eating them all now, there’s going to be none left for the guests,” Onyx chided Amy Winston, Cindy Reynolds and Halo as she carried the latest platter of treats to a central table.

“You bake?” Jonni asked as she sniffed at the air and licked her lips, a trail of static in her tongue’s wake.

“Everyone had to pitch in at the monastery,” the hardened warrior explained with a grin. She shrugged her shoulders and wiped her hands off on her apron. “They taught me a bunch of things that had nothing to do with beating people up.”

“Okay, I got the deli platters!” Hawkgirl Kendra Saunders called out as she fluttered down from the clear, slowly darkening sky. “Heya, Jonni, finally showed up now that we’re done?”

“I’m hardly the late-comer,” Jonni protested. She’d been teased for the last week about her lack of Christmas spirit, and she huffed at Kendra’s accusation now. “How about Dawn, where’s she?”

“Okay, how’s this, everyone?” Dawn asked as she poked her head in from a doorway. She tossed a handful of glittering white sand up into the air and then the courtyard chilled and a soft flutter of snow started to fall in the heart of the desert city. “Everyone thank the spirits sometime tonight, alright?”

Kendra stuck her tongue out at Jonni, but the detective wasn’t done yet. “I still beat out Zeno--” She was cut off when she saw the Amazon three stories up, leaping from one corner of the courtyard to the far corner, rolling out a strand of lit pine. Kendra started to chuckle as Jonni turned around and walked off with her hands up in the air. “Just remember, I paid for all this!” she called back with her own laugh.

Jonni actually left to respond to the front door. The bell had rung (Good timing, Jonni mused), and she rushed to answer it. The first guest of the night had arrived, and she gave Tom Tresser a friendly handshake. “Didn’t think you’d get the night off of spooking,” she teased the secret agent. Shortly after, Kendra’s young friends from last year, Kate and Curtis (who reminded Jonni he preferred to be called Speed) arrived, and then more guests. Amy’s father showed up with her mother, who’d flown in for the celebration; Jonni’s friend Frankie from the Coyote Cafe; even Brother Joshua surprised Onyx by accepting her invitation.

The party started off slow, people feeling each other out, a group of strangers to each other, but the Birds didn’t let that last. Especially not with the girls to brighten up the evening. Amy excitedly introduced her friends to her parents; Halo made a point of meeting everyone new, and gave a big hug to Tom, whom she hadn’t seen since the Red Claw affair. Jonni stayed near Zenobia, to the side of the party, though both were friendly to those who approached them. At some point, the detective had lost sight of the girls, and Frankie, and wandered off to find them. The girls had taken Frankie up to see Jonni’s office at his request, all the while sharing stories. Jonni found them in time to hear Amy’s opening words.

“Did I ever tell you guys about the time I brought Christmas to Gemworld?” she had just asked, and the girls shook their heads, and Frankie just gave a puzzled look. “Oh man, it was so cool. Okay so it was like this...”



Amy’s eyes lit up when she saw them bring in the tree. She wasn’t sure if the huge, perfectly-shaped pine trees would grow in the Gemworld, but the evergreen that came through the palace doors was as lush and tall as any tree she’d ever seen on Earth. She squealed and ran toward it to help, as sandaled feet slapped against the smooth marble floor of Castle Amethyst. “It’s excellent! Come on, bring it in so we can start decorating!”

The grand entrance hall bustled with people going to and fro, as they collected baubles and figurines from within the castle, gathered pine cones and berries from outside, and at Amethyst’s insistence, kept trays of hot chocolate and cookies filled from the kitchens. “You can’t decorate without hot chocolate,” she’d told them all. It took four men together to bring the tree to the cradle that Amy had made for its trunk, and fasten it in place at the end of the hall.

On Earth, it was still weeks before Christmas, and Amy had been dipping back and forth between her worlds to make sure she didn’t lose track of time. She’d missed her father’s birthday that year from staying too long in Gemworld’s accelerated timeline; there was no way she’d miss Christmas, too.

“What is Christmas?” Citrina had asked her the last time she came through, after Amy’s frenzied explanation for her constant coming and going.

“Only the best holiday there is on Earth!” Amy had chattered at her mentor all through her training, going through the motions of archery and magic with her heart far away. She’d told the story that everyone knows: of the Son of God born in the manger; of the three kings that came to visit him and his the Virgin Mother; and most importantly, of peace on Earth. But when it was nearly time for her to leave again, Amy stopped and thought. “It’s so much more than that, though,” she added. “It’s a time when you see everyone you love, all at the same time. And you eat all your favorite foods you don’t get any other time of year, and you make everything look bright and beautiful right in the middle of winter, and you give presents to show everybody how much you care…I kind of already got them for some of you,” she admitted.

Citrina smiled and placed her old, soft hand on Amy’s arm. “Then worry not, Amethyst. We will just have to arrange for a Christmas in Gemworld as well.”

By the time Amy came back through, Citrina had made well on her promise. Only an hour after the tree was placed, Amethyst’s friends had arrived, all of them entranced and excited by the thought of a new holiday. It was a very welcome notion on strife-torn Gemworld.

“This is delightful!” Lady Turquoise beamed and caught Amy in a hug when she came to meet them. “You’ve outdone yourself, Princess. If you had no legacy but this new celebration, you’d still be remembered for ages!”

“Come now, it won’t outshine her own legend,” Lord Topaz chuckled and stood back a step, waiting for Amy to come to him. “The lost Princess, returned to rid the world of evil, and who placed trees indoors?”

The older Emerald Princess made to respond, but cut herself short in favor of chasing after her younger sister and grabbing her hand. “Say hello first! Has Mother taught you no manners, running off like that?”

The younger girl dug her toe into the ground and bobbed her head toward Amy, the ribbons on her braids bouncing with the quick movement. “Hello, Princess Amethyst, thank you for having me.”

Amy laughed, and hugged both Emeralds. “Go, look around, have fun!” When the young sister sped off to the tree, Amy grinned at all three of her best friends. Turquoise had the same mischief in her blue eyes that Amy had always felt on Christmas mornings. Emerald relaxed once her sister was in the care of the household, and brushed long white hair out of her face. Topaz stood so calmly just behind the girls, smiling with that gentle grin and ignoring the decorations in order to look at her. “We’re all here for fun, right! Decorating the tree’s my favorite part, so let’s go!”

Soon enough, Amy had handed out garlands of tinsel and beads, and the little glass figures that Citrina had attached to strings. Topaz lifted Amy up onto his shoulders in order to start stringing the sparkles all through the branches from the top. “Tell me again…why is there a tree?”

“Why isn’t there always a tree?” Emerald asked with a wry smile. “It might do wonders for our green magic to be around nature all day long. And to make it so cheerful, I can already feel the essence of spring, despite the cold.”

Amy grinned and leaped nimbly back to the ground. “That’s it exactly! It’s about keeping things alive when everything is frozen over for winter. Oh, you should see it back at home. There’s snow everywhere but it’s so bright inside. Between the tree and the cocoa and the specials--stories,” she clarified; the only thing that Earth had going for it over Gemworld was television. “You hear the same stories every year, until you know them so well you can tell them to everyone else.”

“Then we should trade.” Turquoise had a cup of cocoa in each hand and held one out to Amy when she came down. “Your Earth stories are always fascinating, Amethyst. Are these like the one about the bear family and their intruder?”

“I told you, you’re supposed to like Goldilocks,” Amy giggled. “And they’re better. They have songs!” After a moment’s thought, Amy started with “Frosty the Snowman,” singing loud and strong if a little off-key. The younger Emerald had the melody down halfway through, and hummed along. By the time she was finished, another three strands of beads had been strung through the branches, and Amy felt her heart soar at how much the castle felt like home.

“Well now, as long as we’re telling stories.” All five turned when Citrina stepped forward, and moved around the chair that she found nearby. “Have I told you the legend of the Five-Pointed Star?”

Amy shook her head gleefully. She might have only known Citrina for a few short months, but the old woman had known the princess for Amy’s entire life. She was like another grandmother, but even wiser. With cocoa in hand, Amy folded her legs under herself as she sat and prepared for a story.

“Ours has not been the only era of strife in the Gemworld,” Citrina began. “Years ago, far before your time, before even mine, we were even more divided than we are today. We worry now about those houses that Dark Opal has taken under his command, but then, there were not just two sides. Five of the great houses all longed to rule the whole of Gemworld, all five convinced they alone were the most powerful, the most worthy. Ruby, Sapphire, Emerald, Topaz, and your several times great-grandfather Amethyst.” The old woman looked around the eager faces as she named their ancestors. “The fighting was dreadful. The newer houses, the Turquoise and Garnet and Citrine and the like, took sides with those they wished to see in power. And one day….one day, the fighting ended.

“No one knew until they had all come out. The generals of the five Great Houses had gone together to meet, telling their people it was to end the battle once and for all. And it did, but not the way anyone expected. When all five of the best magicians in Gemworld tried to attack each other, they found that their power pooled together instead. The blast of energy turned white with all of their colors, and nearly destroyed them all. But by some miracle, all five survived. Tattered and burned, and humbled, they agreed that the Gemworld would be best served if they combined their powers, rather than divided them. From then on, every house was given its property to rule, ambitions flattened and a peace was reached. And, as a symbol of this new unity, the five generals came together once again, and forged a jewel like none other. The Five-Pointed Star, with the color and the magic of the five most powerful gems swirling within it.”

“What happened to it? Where is it, I wanna see!” Amy sat up tall on her knees.

“It passed into legend,” Citrina chuckled. “No one knows where it may have gone, if it was ever a true artifact.”

Topaz stood first, with a bright fire in his face to match his grin. “It sounds like the perfect object for a quest!”

“What a great idea!” Turquoise jumped up with even more enthusiasm. “You want to see the gem, Princess, then let’s go find it! I can’t think of a better way to spend a few days.”

After pausing to think for a short while, Emerald suggested, “If it was supposed to be about peace and equality, I can’t imagine the houses themselves got to keep it. Maybe they gave it to the Diamond Monks for safe-keeping.”

“They’d probably know something about the legend, anyway,” Amy agreed. “I love it! Let’s quest!”

With preparations quickly completed, and supplies readied within a few hours, there was one other thing to take care of before the young heroes could embark. The younger Emerald was on the verge of a tearful fit after being told she was too small to go with her sister and friends. “I have magic, too! I’m big enough! I want to go too!”

Amy knelt next to the little princess and smiled. “I know, dear, but I have a better job for you. It’s really important, okay? And it has to get done, and we can’t do it if we’re away.” She held up the crude stocking that she had made with the help of her seamstress, a simple creation but strong enough to hold the presents it would need to. “Everybody has to have one of these. You hang them all up, and fill them with toys and candy so everyone in the family gets something good. I need you to make the rest, and you can decorate them too, okay? One for you, and your sister, and Turquoise and Topaz and everyone.”

Emerald sniffled and rubbed at her eye, and took the stocking. “Can I use glitter?”

“All you want,” Amy promised. She left the girl toying with the stocking and brightening at the thought of all the work ahead of her, and Amy met her other friends at the door. “A Christmas quest,” she laughed and began to lead them out to the stables and on their way. “This is going to be so awesome!”



“So we went out to the stables and got our steeds,” Amy continued, and took a short break to munch a Christmas cookie, as other party guests slowly trickled in to listen. “Oh, Halo, you’d just love flying above Gemworld, you can see everything sparkling in all the colors there ever were.”

“Flying?” asked Jonni. “I thought you had horses.”

“Winged horses,” Amy agreed brightly. “All the nobility have a few. Oh! There was even a foal last spring, well, the last spring that I was there. I don’t know if she’s grown up yet, with how different time moves.”

Jonni went to make another comment, but a pleading look from Halo stopped her. She and Cindy were enthralled, lying on the floor with their chins in their hands to listen to the story.

And what a story it was. Amy told them of journeying all across her Gemworld, flying over sparkling plains and deep lakes, running into dangerous fantastical creatures that she and her gemstone friends had to fight with magic. It was all charming, of course. If not for the earnest excitement in Amy’s eyes as she thought herself to relive it.

Just as Amy and her allies were reaching the Diamond Monks, Kendra came up behind Jonni’s chair and offered her a plate of food. “You know, you make a thing about keeping her grounded, but I don’t hear you complaining a lot right now,” she teased gently.

Jonni chuckled. “I don’t know what to think about her stories. But damned if they aren’t entertaining.” She paused and took the plate, nibbling thoughtfully on a cookie. “It’s Christmas. If there’s any time to let her believe, it’s now.”

“The monastery was this huge building, way bigger than my castle even, so it could keep everything the Monks needed inside and they’d never have to leave. We flew around a few times so they could see it was just us, and not Dark Opal or anything creepy, and someone came to greet us when we landed….”



“Welcome, Lord and Ladies of the Gemworld.” The monk bowed in front of the huge, sparkling doors of the monastery. “It is good to see young faces so eager for knowledge and truth.”

Amethyst, Emerald, Topaz and Turquoise dismounted their flying steeds and handed the reins to a second Monk, who appeared to take care of them. Amy stepped forward first and, feeling giddy at their arrival, bowed in return. “That’s right, truth and knowledge, we’re here to ask you about the Five-Pointed Star!”

Behind her, Emerald shook her head ruefully and Turquoise barked a laugh. “A rather unorthodox way of questing, Amethyst. But I approve, let’s not waste any time with pleasantries and formalities and small talk!”

Amy blushed. “Oh, I’m sorry…I don’t want to be rude.”

The monk smiled and turned toward the doors, not needing to tell them to follow. “An old legend indeed. What do the four of you know so far?”

Topaz was the one to tell him the story again; Amy was too busy looking and staring in every direction as they passed through the halls of the monastery. There were people wandering alongside them, the monks – men and women both – dressed in flowing white robes, others simply here to visit. They looked as enchanted as Amy felt. She could hear every footstep, echoing through the cold glass and marble and rock that made up the building. And yet, nothing about it was stark. So much brightness and light shimmered with energy throughout the monastery that Amy felt sure it held every answer to every question there ever was.

They were led to a small shrine, in a far corner of the mighty building, and the monk stopped in front of the door. “We keep the legends alive in this place, and we keep safe the truths that have fallen away. The Five-Pointed Star is indeed an artifact of times long gone. And it is inside.”

This time, Amy bit back her enthusiasm and kept the regal composure that came so naturally to Emerald and Topaz. “May we see it, please? We’ve come all this way.”

The monk began to speak without answering, but Amy listened carefully. “It has long saddened all of us in the Diamond Sanctuary to see the Gemworld divided in fighting and strife. We have kept the Star hidden safely, for a symbol of unity and goodwill does not belong in a world like this.”

Amy’s face fell, and Turquoise squeezed her shoulder in sympathy, but the speech wasn’t over.

“However. The return of the house of Amethyst is a sign, one that we have awaited impatiently. Events have been set in motion, some large and clear, others so small as to seem insignificant. The time is coming. You children will someday know a Gemworld united in peace and prosperity, and good will toward all.”

“Then that’s a yes?” Turquoise finally asked.

The Monk nodded, and opened the door.

Inside was a light brighter and clearer than anywhere else they had been. The quest-goers shielded their eyes as they followed into a tall, sprawling chapel. The walls were lined with shelves and cubbies holding all manner of sparkling artifacts; Amy saw the hilts of swords laid with gems, elaborately carved statues and tokens. Who knew what else was hiding in the upper levels seemingly all the way up to the sky?

They lost sight of the monk amid all the lights of legends, but he soon returned, a gemstone nearly the size of his head held in both of his hands. The Star was as beautiful as Amy had imagined, a sharply-carved stone so well-made that, despite seeing where one color ended and another began, she couldn’t pick out the division of its components. Five colors swirled, moving slowly within the stones, imbuing each other with brilliant combinations.

Amy’s friends leaned forward so everyone could see. “Here is the Ruby point,” the monk ran his finger across the red side.

“The Sapphire,” said Turquoise, and reached her own hand toward it.

“My Emerald,” the white-haired princess grinned.

“Topaz,” he breathed.

“And mine too,” Amethyst touched the tip of her finger to the top point of the star. “But…”

Turquoise narrowed her eyes as she felt the stone. “That’s not all?”

“What do you mean?” Emerald knelt so that she could inspect the gem more closely.

Turquoise was right. Amy could feel something more inside the Five-Pointed Star, she could see the way that the colors swirled and melded, and the gleaming, milky white that they formed in the stone’s very center. “It’s….the Opal?”

“But why?” Topaz balled his fists. “What is Dark Opal’s power doing tainting this peaceful relic?”

“The stories don’t mention anything about this,” Emerald protested. “It’s the Five-Pointed Star. There were five gems.”

“It’s been corrupted,” Turquoise said darkly. “Look at the way it’s stealing all the other’s power!”

“No.” Amethyst spoke softly, and the others fell quiet. “I think I understand…The stories just forgot something, didn’t they?” She looked toward the monk, and continued when he started to smile. “I mean, it’s right in here, the Opal is part of the star…It’s not Dark Opal, just the regular one. Back when it was just as good as anything else. Right?”

The monk’s smile widened, and he bowed. “You are very wise, Princess Amethyst. Legends have a way of getting...adjusted, when new ages come and go and the details are no longer as pleasant as they once were. Once upon a time, the Opal was as regal a gemstone as any other. And one day, it will return to its true glory. And, if our own legends are still true,” he added as he stood straight again, “it will be because of you, Amethyst.”

Turqoise huffed and crossed her arms, but Emerald touched a hand to Amy’s wrist. “It’s a tall order, Princess.”

“Just means I have that much more work to do,” Amy laughed nervously. She bowed her head in return to the monk. “Thank you. We came all this way, it would have been miserable to leave without seeing the Star.”

He held out his hand, the gem still sparkling in it. “It need no longer stay hidden. Take the Star, Amethyst, and create a Gemworld once again worthy of its peace.”

“Really, you mean it?” Amy’s regal demeanor slipped as she took the gemstone and clutched it to her chest. “Oh you guys! There’s always a star at the top of a Christmas tree, this is the most perfect star ever!”

“Then let’s get it home,” Topaz smiled at her, and all four of the friends made their way back to the stables, back across the Gemworld, and back to Castle Amethyst victorious.

By the time their journey ended, the great hall of the castle was even more festive and bright, and Citrina, though surprised, gladly made the arrangements to set the Star at the top of their tree.

“Amy, Amy!” The younger Emerald rushed forward to greet them, drowning in the stockings she had sewn together and decorated. They spilled out of both her arms, and while her older friends chuckled at her enthusiasm, she laid them all out. The oversized socks were color-coded, crusted in glitter and dotted with stars and hearts and shapes. She handed them out to their owners, and she was left standing with one plain white stocking in her hand. “Oh…I guess I made too many.”

Amy took the stocking, and looked up to the top of the tree. “No, you didn’t. I know who this is for. Now come on, they hang up by the fireplace, that way you can put presents in them!”

While the others told the story of their grand adventure and fastened their stockings to the wall, Amy took herself apart from the festivities. She drew on the fabric herself, swirls and turns and little pictures, whatever came to her head. She dusted the stocking with a little of every color Emerald had used, and wrote the name at the top: Opal.

Before she returned to Earth for her holiday, Amethyst hung the Opal up with all the others. Maybe the monks were right. She hoped they were. Maybe someday, there would be peace in Gemworld, and she made a Christmas wish that it would come true.

The end of Amy’s story led to her audience wandering back to the rest of the party. The music, lights and food combined to make things more lively, drawing out the seasonal warmth in a group of former strangers, bringing them together as friends.

Kendra drank down a cup of punch and felt good about the scene. Her grandfather would be proud of her, and her only regret was her cousin Greg’s inability to make it again. She decided that next year, she wouldn’t leave him the option, even if it meant inviting all Seven Soldiers as well. Eight Sol--um, nine, ten... she mused and pursed her lips as she started to tick members off with the fingers of both hands.

“I thought countdowns were for New Year’s?” Tom Tresser said as he stepped up behind the ahtletic woman. She turned toward him and chuckled. How such a bland-looking person could be so handsome at the same time threw her as he continued, “Sorry to interrupt, but I just got a work text and I was hoping you could help out.”

“What’s up?” Her voice dropped low and grew serious.

“There’s a passenger jet flying over Nevada that we lost communication with,” Tom explained. “My people didn’t have a lot of other details, other than something about a disturbed individual in the passenger cabin before radio contact was lost. If I can coax Hawkgirl and Her Amazing Friends to get up there and check it out, I can get the Air Force to hold back on a fighter sortie for a while.”

“Don’t worry, Tom, the Birds are on the case,” Hawkgirl assured him. She caught Dawn’s gaze and motioned her out of the courtyard, and started up to her own room to grab her wings. Dawn peeked in as the Feathered Fury’s costume was strapped into place. “Got a job to do, hop on,” Kendra said as she popped open her window and stood on the sill, arms out.

“Never want to miss a chance to get ferried around by Hawkgirl,” Dawn Makes-Strong-Move chuckled as she made a sweeping motion with her arm. Her tomahawk came into view in a shower of lights that vanished soon after, and left her in the garb of Manitou Dawn.

The two heroines sped up into the clear night sky. They streaked under a velvet-black sky littered with twinkling stars, Hawkgirl’s sharp eyes focused on the horizon, along the coordinates that Tom had supplied her.

They saw the jet just ahead of them, headed in their direction, with wobbling wings that alarmed the women. “The cockpit looks dark, something must have happened on board,” Kendra said with eyes narrowed. “The crew is definitely down.”

“I can spirit walk into the passenger cabin,” Dawn assured her friend as she started to weave her concentration in time with the motion of her weapon.

“Okay then, I’m gonna drop you in a moment and let you do your thing and I’m entering the jet through the front door,” Kendra said as she let Dawn slip down to hold the medicine woman with her hands. “Go!” She tossed her friend to sail toward the jet and then tugged her own mace out and dove for the cockpit windows.

Dawn felt that strange, sensational blast of wind around her as she spun through the glittering darkness, and then stepped a foot out onto an ethereal path and faded from her friend’s view. She rolled off that trail and back into the real world along the central aisle of the 747, coming up quickly to a guarded crouch. Her attunement to the spirit world immediately sensed something wrong, something beyond the mundane world responsible for the blacked out jet. There were screams of terror all around her as she looked one way, then the other, behind her and below her, and wished she had the keen vision of Kendra right now.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” The malicious voice cackled across the darkened cabin, and Dawn’s angry brown eyes quickly met the baleful yellow gaze that stared back. “The mayhem, the fear, and the tasty, tasty engineering?”

“A gremlin?” Dawn asked herself, rather than listen to the vicious supernatural beast that even now skittered across the cabin walls to put distance between it and the heroine.

“What else could shut down every yummy wire in this mechanical beast?” the impish creature taunted. It watched Dawn cautiously stand and edge closer, and cackled with it’s long drawn-out maw lined in nasty needle-like teeth. “Catch me if you can!” It laughed at her now and tore up through the cabin ceiling.

Dawn could hear it scamper across the length of the hull, her face dark, gaze determined. She couldn’t help but notice the dozens of frightened passengers, and the overwhelmed flight attendants unable to do anything to reassure their charges. The jetliner continued to dip now, and then it shook suddenly, rattling hard and Dawn figured Kendra had entered the cockpit to try and take control. More screams, and the airliner started to plunge toward the ground, which threw Dawn off her feet.

“Why are you doing this? What do you stand to gain out of such an act?” Dawn called out, hoping to keep track of the talkative little imp as it scurried about.

“Are you kidding me? The sheer symbolism on this utter scale? And you ask?” The creature tittered and bounced down onto the floor behind her before it then leaped over her, glittering claws tearing at her back shoulder as it headed back into the crawlspaces. “Death to hope, and a rise in the viciousness and cruelty your world already swims in, as if you didn't know!”

She clutched her wound as a sharp cry drew her attention now, and she saw what the attendants already knew: a pregnant woman, her husband holding her arm trying to keep her calm. I don’t even want to know what drove her up here, but this is over now, Dawn thought and pressed her tomahawk into the thin carpet of the aisle. She tore marks into it quickly and muttered words of power, called on the authority of Raven and Coyote, masters and mentors to the tricksters everywhere, and used that authority bark out, “Very well, gremlin, I command you to be caught, here and now!” Her weapon flared with energy and in a blast of greasy exhaust fumes, the creature fell out into her waiting grip.

“Ya caught me, oh darn,” it griped, but then its nasty grin cracked its face again. “But you can’t save the plane, so I still stop the child!”

Dawn looked up at the mother as she gripped her stomach, sweat on her face and crying in pain. “Not yet you don’t!” Dawn declared as she dispatched the little monster and dashed over to provide what aid she could to ease the woman’s pain.

Hawkgirl had given a few precious moments to Dawn to secure the passengers and prepare them before she dove down and drove the mace through the thick glass. The blast of depressurization nearly threw her away from the room, but she dug in and held her place. As quick as she could, she took a firm grip of the jet’s crew; one at a time, she moved each out of the control room before using all her might to slam the cabin door shut again and moved into the pilot’s chair.

Every electrical system in the jet is dead, she realized as her eyes raked the blackened panels. I don’t have a hope unless... “C’mon, c’mon, answer your phone!” Kendra now grumbled aloud as she activated the communicator in her helmet.

“Hiya, what’s up? Things going okay?” Jonni Thunder asked on the other end of the signal.

“Not even close! I got no time to explain, just get your sparkling self up here! I need a ton of juice and fast!” Kendra then tore her helmet off and tossed it onto the co-pilot’s chair, the signal still open.

Seconds later, Jonni’s lightning form burst into view. “What’s the matter?” She scanned the gloomy cabin. “Ah.”

“Yeah, we got no power at all, and ground closing up fast. Gas this baby back up, quick.”

“If I can,” Jonni answered nervously. She hadn’t tried something this large before, and so complicated, but she leaped into the control panel and vanished from sight.

“C’mon, c’mon, turn on!” Kendra growled as she smacked the dash. Suddenly, lights flared to life and Hawkgirl let out a triumphant whoop. “That’s a good start, now it’s my turn.”

Out in the middle of the desert, in a jet with the most makeshift power supply imaginable, Hawkgirl knew that the best she could do was find someplace with lots of room, lots of level ground, and fast. Who knew just how long Jonni could keep up whatever she was doing?

“Can’t find out the hard way,” she muttered as she put all her strength into moving the yoke to level the aircraft off, eyes once more scanning the horizon, this time much more worriedly.

It was that most special of special days and all through the day Rudolph had been out all in the forest, conversing with all the woodland creatures. Now, back at home, he quickly ate his dinner, said goodbye to his mom, and set out to meet Santa.

However, just as he stepped out of the door, he encountered five strangely-costumed individuals. One wore a clown outfit, one particularly rotund one hovered in the air, one carried a bow and arrow, one was dressed all in blue, and the final one was a pretty girl with long blonde hair.

“Hello, folks,” he said to them, wondering when the circus had arrived in town.

“No reindeer games for you tonight,” said the girl, as she punched him in his glowing red nose. Suddenly the world was spinning, and the woodland birds were tweeting round his head, and then his nose stopped glowing and went dim as all his lights went out.



Although she was in her late teens, Athena Tremor still believed in Santa. In return for that belief, every Christmas Eve, Santa would bring her whatever she’d put on her Christmas list, ready for her when she woke up the next day, wide eyed, full of the joys of the season.

However, this year, Santa was particularly noisy, and she woke up to hear him stomping away. Normally, being a sound sleeper, her brain impervious to pondering, she’d have gone right back on sleeping, but this was not a night like other nights and, full of seasonal excitement, she leaped out of her bed to see what he’d brought her. After all, she couldn’t be expected to remember what she’d put down on her Christmas list - she’d written it over a month ago, and it wasn’t like she was some kind of History Major.

To her dismay, she found a lump of coal at the foot of her bed. She grabbed it in her hand, squeezed it tightly, then threw it away. A do-it-yourself diamond kit - surely that hadn’t been on her list.

“Bad Santa,” she snarled, and, not about to let this injustice go unfixed, she donned her superheroine outfit, cleverly designed to conceal everything but her face. “This right will be wronged, so says Dumb Bunny,” said Dumb Bunny, as she raced towards the fireplace, ready to ascend the chimney.



William King had been unable to sleep, for this was Christmas Eve, a night that filled him with dread even more so than other nights. He trembled as he kept thinking of strangers creeping in through his chimney, or of Santa getting trapped there and decomposing. He kept telling himself his fears were irrational - after all, his house didn’t have a chimney - but still he couldn’t sleep.

And so he lay in bed, looking out of his window to the street below, where multiple evils could have been concealed beneath the white covering of snow. Turning his attention to the dark night sky, trying not to think about the ninja that might lurk there, he spotted a sleigh and reindeer resting on a nearby roof; the roof of his friend Athena. This surprised him. While he believed in leprechauns and witches and ghosts and goblins and all manner of evil, he certainly didn’t believe in Santa. He continued to watch as someone emerged from the chimney, but that person wasn’t fat, he didn’t have a big white beard, and he certainly wasn’t jolly. The suited figure was tall and thin and insane, with a ghastly grin that sent shivers down William’s spine.

William looked at the poster on his wall, that old man with a hearty laugh and a white beard, who sometimes wore a hood and sometimes a hat, and had a thing for stockings. That was his hero, someone who William could believe in, but what would Green Arrow do in a situation like this?

Immediately he knew the answer, and then he was William King no longer, as he put on his mask, becoming the tangerine toxophilite that men call the White Feather.

With shaking fingers, he grabbed his cell phone and texted his teammates just two words:

He’s back!



Myron Victor was burning the midnight oil, desperate to meet a Christmas deadline, the latest blank comic page taunting him, when he heard his phone beep. He picked it up and saw a message. ‘He’s back!’ it said. Who was back? Not that it mattered, for there was crime in the air that night, and the world needed the jester of justice known as Merryman.

Pulling on his outfit, he stumbled to the door, and went outside in the snow, to find a dark cloud hovering over him. He looked up to see that it was his teammate, The Blimp.

“Hi, Merryman. Just bumped into Awkwardman and turns out we need to get to Dumb Bunny’s roof quick. He’s back!”

“Who’s back?”

“Only that macabre moptop of mayhem, the Mad Mod!” said the White Feather, dashing into view. “The Blimp needs to get us up there now! Only we can stop the Mad Mod! Dumb Bunny needs us now! You and Awkwardman can go first. Don’t worry, I’ll be right behind. Maybe a rooftop or two away.”

Merryman rolled his eyes, and then put his hand out to The Blimp.

“Guess we better get going,” he said, as The Blimp pulled him aloft.

*****

The Mad Mod was sitting in the sleigh, having a rest. How did that old guy Santa manage it? The Mad Mod had only visited a few houses and he was already exhausted, not to mention covered in soot.

Then he heard a sound on the roof. He opened his eyes and saw a guy in a jester’s outfit suddenly standing there.

Must be a dream, he figured, and closed his eyes again.

Then there was another sound, and a guy in a bad imitation Batman outfit had joined the jester. He closed his eyes again; this dream was even worse than that coma he’d been in. *



And then there was another sound, and he saw them standing there in front of him. Four of the Inferior Five.

He shook his head in disbelief as he stepped out of his sleigh.

“Gordon Bennett! Lord love a duck! Not you lot again?”

“We don’t know what you’re doing, Mr. Mod, but stop right now,” said Merryman. “Otherwise, I, Merryman, will have to stop your nefarious plans.”

“You really think you can harm me with your thousand gimmicks?” said the Mad Mod, with a laugh. “Well, I have a few gimmicks of my own.”

“No, you’re thinking of-” Merryman began correcting him, but then he saw the Mad Mod pull out a book and begin reading.

And then time seemed to cease as the Mad Mod read from his book, full of hypnotic commands and subliminal messages. Merryman barely had time to read the title ‘Tales Calculated To Drive You Mod’ before he and the others found themselves rooted to the spot, unable to move, as the world began to go psychedelic around them.

“Kneel before Mod, sons of the Freedom Brigade,” the monstrous Modster of Madness, dressed in sooty blackness, intoned.

And that’s when Dumb Bunny’s head suddenly burst out of the chimney, putting a severe dent in his spell, and surprising the Mad Mod to such an extent that he lost his footing and went sliding down the roof, disappearing from sight.

“Thanks, Dumb Bunny, you saved us,” White Feather said. “You defeated the Mad Mod.”

“But I was after Santa,” she said, climbing out of the chimney, her costume all sooty.

“It was just the Mad Mod pretending to be Santa,” explained Merryman. “There’s no such person as Santa. He’s just a-”

“Blasphemy!,” yelled the reindeer in unison. “Of course there’s a Santa. He takes care of us.”

This took the Inferior Five by surprise, so much so that Awkwardman also lost his footing and went tumbling down in the direction of the Mad Mod, gathering snow as he went.

“See, I told you there was a Santa,” said Dumb Bunny triumphantly, as the Blimp slowly set off to retrieve Awkwardman. Then she looked at the reindeer and noticed the uniform dullness of their noses. “Where’s Rudolph?”

“He was captured, along with Santa, by the Mad Mod and his henchmen,” explained Donner. “The Mad Mod was angry because many years ago, when he was just a child, Santa had left him just a lump of coal.”

“So, he’s been using the sleigh to visit houses to rob them,” surmised Merryman. “What an evil plan.”

The reindeer took a step back. “No, what a Scroogy thought. He’s just swapped the naughty and nice lists around, so that this year the bad guys get all the wonderful toys.”

“Don’t worry, I’m okay,” interrupted Awkwardman, as The Blimp gently set him down on the roof, and then he gave a cry of dismay as he slid off again.

“How’s the Mad Mod?” Dumb Bunny asked The Blimp. “I hope he’s not dead, and I have to take over being the Mad Mod like in that Tim Allen movie.”

“No, I’m no medical expert,” said The Blimp, “but he seems to be in a coma, especially since Awkwardman keeps falling on him.” And then The Blimp slowly set off to retrieve Awkwardman once more.

“So, looks like everything’s been resolved,” said Merryman, rubbing his hands, “and I can get back to my impossible deadlines. I’m sure you reindeer can go and release Santa and Rudolph now.”

“No,” said Dasher and Dancer and Prancer.

“He had henchmen remember,” added Comet and Cupid and Vixen.

“He had his own superteam,” revealed Donner and Blitzen.

Merryman winced at the thought. “Please don’t say they’re called the Mod Squad.”

“No,” said Dasher, shaking his head. “First he sent some white Martians posing as elves.”

“But Santa Claus conquered the Martians,” explained Dancer. “That’s when the Mad Mod sent in a new group of supervillains.”

“S-s-supervillains?” said the White Feather. “Th-that doesn’t sound good. C-can’t the elves help you?”

“Elves have left the building,” the reindeer announced. “You have to help us. You have to save Santa. And most of all, you have to save the one who leads our sleigh, with his nose so bright - Oh, how we regret calling him those names.”

“Don’t worry,” said Dumb Bunny, talking to her new four-legged friends. “We’ll save your leader. And Santa. The world needs them, especially this time of year.”

At that point, The Blimp and Awkwardman reappeared. “So, guys, what’s happening?”

“We’re on a mission,” said Merryman. “The Inferior Five have to save Santa.”

“That’s not all,” said the reindeer.

“Yes, we have to save Christmas,” said the White Feather.

“I think they meant saving Rudolph,” said Dumb Bunny.

The deer nodded. “Save the deer leader, save the world.”



High in the sky, in an eight-deer open sleigh, the Inferior Five flew over a frozen landscape.

“Th-th-this is a bad idea,” said White Feather, who thanks to the oncoming snow was now as white as his name. “I thought I was used to sh-shivering, but this is just ridiculous.”

The reindeer tutted. Santa never complained about the cold, and he was a lot better at being inconspicuous, and boy was this Christmas Eve dragging. They missed the old Santa magic.

“We should almost be there,” said Merryman, the droopy ends of his jester hat frozen in place, as he looked at his compass, covered with layers of ice, through his glasses, covered with even more ice.

Just as White Feather was wondering if this nightmare before Christmas would ever end, the snow parted, and below them they saw a forest and a Christmas village.

“Hooray! We’re home!,” said the reindeer, and the sleigh swooped down towards Santa’s workshop.

Dumb Bunny’s eyes were glazed, nay, double glazed with wonder at the sight of Santa’s beautiful fairytale homeland, with its quaint houses, lights pouring from nearly every window.

Merryman had been hoping that the supervillains would be waiting outside to meet them, so
they could have ploughed them down outside with the reindeer, but luck had never
been on his side.

He remembered that his superhero parents had always wanted him to be more like
his perfect cousin; all of his teammates had similar stories. It was times like this, when danger was to be faced, that he wished they were more like their relatives.

Suddenly a pair of elves appeared, all battered and bruised.

“Winky? Blinky?” said the shocked reindeer.

"You’re back," said the elves. "You have to save Santa and Rudy. The bad guys are holding them hostage in Santa’s Workshop." They pointed in unison towards a large building, its windows dark and foreboding.

“Don’t worry,” said Merryman, holding a hand up to calm them, “we’re the Inferior Five.”

As the elves shook their heads and worried, the Inferior Five walked over to Santa’s Workshop. While the White Feather cowered behind his teammates, Merryman’s knuckles rapped on the door.

There was no answer.

“M-maybe we should just go home,” suggested the White Feather. “The bad guys will just get bored here eventually, doesn’t look like there’s much nightlife around here.”

Merryman ignored his cowardly cowering colleague and knocked again.

This time, after a long wait, the door smashed outwards, as did numerous windows, as the supervillains burst out of Santa’s Workshop, spreading glass and mayhem everywhere.

The Inferior Five braced themselves, ready for an attack, but the supervillains went for the reindeer first, followed by the elves, knocking them all out cold with a mixture of punches and knuckleduster arrows with such speed that the Inferior Five didn’t have time to react. Then, the villains turned their attention to the would-be heroes.

The Inferior Five looked at the pumped-up supervillains before them, as they adopted various mean and gritty poses. They somehow looked familiar: an evil clown of silence, an archer, a large floating behemoth, a shimmering blue guy, a glamorous blonde.

“Are th-they who I think they are?” asked the White Feather.

“You mean us from a crazy future parallel dimension where we’ve turned evil, and the air is full of steroids, and Justin Bieber is president?” Dumb Bunny guessed.

“Worse than that,” said Merryman, looking at the white-faced figure facing him. “I think they’re our relatives.”

“Oh yeah,” Dumb Bunny said, slapping her forehead and almost knocking herself out. “You’re right. That’s a relief - I don’t think Justin’s quite ready yet.”

“That’s right,” said a villain dressed in blue. “You’re the runts of the litter, while we’re the Superior Five. They call me Tremor!”

“Me too,” said Dumb Bunny. “How confusing?”

Dumb Bunny’s blonde half-sister looked at her disparagingly, then continued the roll call. “Lagomorph!”

“Splitshot!” yelled the archer.

“Hindenburg!” yelled the floating giant that men called Hindenburg.

Finally, The Jongleur revealed his name through the medium of mime.

“Don’t pani-” said Merryman, just before his cousin’s fist hit his face, knocking him cold. The Jongleur, for that was his cousin, leaped off him and glared at the other heroes with sinister silence.

“W-we surrender,” said the White Feather, as Splitshot fired an arrow straight at him. The braking-just-in-the-nick-of-time arrow stopped in the air, just an inch from his face, causing the White Feather to faint, plopping down into the snow.

“Two down, three to go,” said Tremor, as he stomped his foot down, causing the ground to shake.

Fortunately Awkwardman was used to being unsteady on all sorts of grounds, so managed to stay on his feet and get closer to his evil stepbrother. “This stops here, Trevor,” he said, as he flung his fist at his killer kin, though unfortunately that finally threw him off balance and instead of hitting his adversary, Awkwardman found himself rolling along the ground, a giant snowball forming around him. “Not again,” he cried, as he rolled off.

Overhead, the Blimp was trying to outrun his half-brother, the Hindenburg, but the Hindenburg had more mass and more momentum and smashed into the Blimp, sending him flying down to Earth, crashing unconscious into the snow..

“That just leaves you, Athena,” said the blonde brainiac bruiser known as the Lagomorph.

“No, you’re here as well,” shot back Dumb Bunny, who was determined to have the last laugh even if she didn’t understand the joke. “I don’t know what Lego Morphing powers you have, but I’ve got strength and brawn and sheer brute force on my side.”

“I’ve got all that plus brains to spare. Don’t you know that brains beat brawn, you silly rabbit?”

“Yeah, well they say pens beat swords, and rock beats paper, but they could be wrong and they could be right. Anyway, if you were so smart, you’d know my name’s Dumb Bunny.”

And with that, Dumb Bunny charged at the Lagomorph, but just as she drew close, her adversary leaped high into the air.

“Glamor hop!” yelled the Lagomorph, as she struck a pose and came back down, her feet meeting her half-sister’s face, and pushing her deeply and crisply and evenly into the soft snowy ground.

“Glamor hop? What crazy sort of move is that?” asked Dumb Bunny, wiping the snow off herself, as she pushed herself up from off the ground.

“You simpleton semi-sibling, failing to even appreciate that it’s an anagram of Lago-” began the Lagomorph, who loved to explain things in the way that criminals often do, even when faced with heroes who clearly don’t care.

“Dumb Bunny smash!” was Dumb Bunny’s riposte, before the Lagomorph could even finish explaining her linguistic brilliance or indulge in any other anagrammatic combat moves.

“As I was saying-” continued the Lagomorph, but Dumb Bunny’s continued punches stemmed her exposition.

Dumb Bunny looked down at her defeated opponent and smiled, but then Tremor brought his foot down once again, shaking Dumb Bunny back off her feet. If it wasn’t bad enough that he’d stolen her family name, now he rushed over and started punching her while Splitshot fired exploding concussive arrows at her. Before long, she was joining her half-sister in the netherworld of unconsciousness.



Meanwhile, inside Santa’s workshop, with the Superior Five finally out of the way, Rudolph had seized his chance to escape. His red-nose gleamed in the darkness as he bent his head over, wishing he had antlers to cut through his bonds. As it was, he had to use his teeth, while outside he could hear the sounds of battle. Finally, the ropes gave way and he sprang to his feet.

“Now, where have they put Santa?” he said, as he walked around the workshop, his nose gleaming. As he passed a sack, his nose illuminated its contents - contents that were distinctly Santa-shaped. “Don’t worry, Santa, I’ll rescue you, and then we’ll teach those ruffians.”



The villains had gathered together the unconscious bodies of the fallen heroes, and were standing over them, gloating a great deal.

“What a jolly Christmas. Not only did our hated relatives come round, but we got to beat them up as well,” said the Hindenburg.

“Maybe we should kill them,” said Splitshot. “Hissssssssss,” he added, because that was the kind of guy he was.

“Killing’s too good for them,” said the Lagomorph, rubbing her aching head.

“There’s no point,” said Tremor. “What harm can they do us?”

“You’ll have to kill us,” said Merryman, who’d just regained consciousness. He struggled to push himself up, his broken glasses perched on his frozen nose. “We may be inferior, but we never give up.”

The Jongleur walked up to him and laughed silently, and then raised his boot to stamp it down on his cousin.

Merryman braced himself, ready for his Christmas lights to go out, but then he heard the thundering of hooves.

“Call yourself a clown?” he asked The Jongleur. “You haven’t even got a red nose.”

And then Rudolph came plowing into The Jongleur, knocking him off his feet. The Jongleur did a somersault in mid-air and landed on Rudolph’s back.

“I stand corrected,” said Merryman, getting to his feet, as the red-nosed reindeer carried The Jongleur high into the sky.

“Any one of us is still a match for all of you,” said Tremor, but then there was a sound of tiny footsteps behind him, and a hundred remote-control teddy bears came marching out of Santa’s Workshop, making a beeline straight for him.

“You think that mere toys can stop the Superior Five?” said Splitshot, as Tremor drowned in synthetic fur. He didn’t notice that his cousin, the White Feather, was beginning to wake up, until it was almost too late. A split-second later their arrows were meeting in mid-air, as they started fighting each other to a standstill, which gave Santa just the opportunity to rush out and smash Splitshot over his head with his spare sack containing every present in the world and numerous lumps of coal. Splitshot fell face-first into the snow, while the White Feather looked around, seeing if he could help any of his fellow heroes. That was when he saw the Hindenburg.

“I am the Hindenburg,” yelled the Hindenburg as he rushed at the White Feather. The White Feather pulled out a flaming arrow - with a name like Hindenburg the guy was asking for it - but then he found that he was trembling too much to fire it.

“Uh-oh,” said the White Feather as his adversary got nearer and nearer. The Blimp leaped in front of him to protect him, but it was merely a heroic gesture. And then Awkwardman did likewise. Great, now he was going to get squashed by three fat guys rather than one, he thought, as the massive menace got closer and closer, and then Dumb Bunny stood up and flicked the guy away with one finger sending him hurtling in the other direction, head over heels, before finally knocking himself unconscious as he hit the ground, sending snow flying up in the air.

That left only Lagomorph. “So, you think you have me outnumbered,” she said, “but I can out-think you all. All I have to do is-”

And that’s when The Jongleur fell out of the sky and landed on her head, sending both of them into dreamland.

Rudolph zipped down into view. “He was a bad bad man. He got what he deserved.”

“Ho! Ho! Ho!” said Santa, looking at Rudolph and the Inferior Five. “You’ve saved Christmas! And now it’s time for me to give out presents!”

Dumb Bunny rushed up to him. “I want brains!”

“I want courage!” said the White Feather.

“I want to dart!” said the Blimp.

“No, no, no,” said Merryman, “he means to the children. Besides, we don’t need those things, we proved that tonight. We’ve got each other.”

“Yeah,” said Awkwardman, “group hug.” But the others just retreated, remembering the hospitalization that usually resulted from one of Awkwardman’s hugs. Then they suddenly noticed Santa, who was suddenly sad.

“How can I deliver my presents?” said Santa, looking around. “All of my reindeers are out cold, apart from Rudy.”



And so it was, on this Christmas Eve, that Rudolph pulled one side of Santa’s sleigh that night, while The Blimp pulled the other. As a result, the route was a lot more circular than usual.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” said Dumb Bunny, as she became Santa’s helper for the night, her duties including dropping off a sack at the county jail that contained the so-called Superior Five and delivering exactly what she wanted to her own house.

As for Merryman, Santa dropped him off at home, so he could meet his deadline, but there was no need, for when he got there, sitting on the floor, wrapped in a bow, was the completed comic strip. Smiling, he walked up the stairs to bed. For once, Myron Victor was a merry man.

Meanwhile, the White Feather, who had also been dropped off, was so exhausted by the whole affair that he slept peacefully through the rest of Christmas Eve, too tired to even have his usual nightmares.

As for Awkwardman, he’d accidentally dropped himself off, but fortunately for him it had been a soft landing. He looked at the comatose figure that he’d landed on.

“Mad Mod, we really have to stop meeting like this!”

Snow fell over the busy streets and skyscrapers of Manhattan as folks scurried hurriedly in last-minute errands before all the shops closed. But in Wesley Dodds’ ornate brownstone across from Central Park, a group of friends were getting together to celebrate for what felt like the last time.

“Jay! Joan!” Dian Belmont, Wesley’s live-in companion of the last twelve years, greeted the Garricks at the door with a kiss for both, ushering them inside to warmth and friendship. “So glad you made it.”

A large crowd of people were gathered in the Grand Foyer, many of whom turned to wave at the new arrivals.

A broad shouldered man sauntered up to them, ice tinkling in his glass. “Late again, as usual.” He hugged Joan as Jay Garrick shrugged.

“You know me, Rex, always on the run.”

“No so much anymore though, huh?” Rex Tyler mumbled in an uncharacteristically sour tone.

“No,” Jay agreed, passing his hat and Joan’s coat to Wes’ valet, Humphries, with a smile. “Not so much anymore. Not since October.” He ran a hand through his brown hair, which was beginning to show some grey at the temples. “And maybe it’s just as well. I turn 40 next month, you know. None of us are as young as we used to be, Tick-Tock.”

Rex Tyler gave his old friend a good-natured slug in the arm. “Good thing you have a fox like Joanie here to keep you young.”

Joan Garrick giggled and blushed. “Rex, you’re always such a flirt.”

“C’mon, let me introduce you to Wendi, my date to this soiree…”

The trio moved off into the crowd. None of them noticed the figure that lingered just outside the door and down the steps, with his collar turned up to the snow and his hat pulled down low over watchful eyes, as Dian Belmont shut the door to the cold.





“Molly tells me that Alan is thinking about a run for Congress,” Libby Lawrence was perched on a window seat, chatting with Dinah Lance and her husband Larry, sipping spiced wine. “Can you imagine that?”

Dinah gave her friend a dubious look. She was, as always, dressed to the nines, looking gorgeous and none of her thirty-four years. “Really? After the wringer we just went through? You’d think he’d had his fill.”

Libby’s lips curled upward in a lopsided smile. “You know Alan: always the crusader. I suppose he wants to work within the system, fix it from the inside, so nothing like what we went through ever happens again. Besides, somebody has to oppose McCarthy and his cronies.”

“He has my vote,” Larry Lance gave a short, approving nod.

“Mmn. Mine, too.” Libby affirmed. Then, with a quick look around at the assembled guests, she said, softly, “And Dian mentioned that C. C. and Marilyn won’t be here, but can you blame them?” Her face fell, thinking of the Batsons and their loss. “I can’t imagine what they must be going through.”

“It’s just awful,” Dinah agreed, threading her arm through her husband’s. “How old was Billy? Thirteen? And such a sweet little boy. I pray they find him. Ooo! I hope they lock Sivana up for good for this!” She gave a little stomp of her foot.

“There, there, darling,” Larry patted her arm, his demeanor, as always, unruffled. “There’s nothing to be done for it right now, no need to get yourself worked up.”

Dinah’s nose wrinkled slightly at this. “I know. It’s just I can’t help thinking how we’re trying to have a baby, and to have your child snatched away---.”

“Dinah!” Libby exclaimed at her friend’s inadvertent announcement. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations!”

Dinah beamed and Larry squeezed her tighly. “Well, no luck yet,” she said with a light laugh. “But after the Hearings, I figured I’d have much more time on my hands, and Larry has always wanted a son, so…”

Libby got up and hugged her friend and her husband, just as a tall and thin fair-haired man approached. “What’s the scoop, and how can I get in on all this hugging?”

“Johnny Chambers!” Dinah Lance swiped at Libby’s longtime boyfriend, but hugged him none-the-less. “When are you going to smarten up and marry this girl?”

“Cut me some slack, songbird” Johnny held up his hands in mock surrender. “It’s tough to find an engagement ring on a newspaperman’s salary.”

“I think he’s just keeping his options open,” Libby glared at her beau. “I heard Polly was going to be here tonight.”

“Ha!” The normally laconic Larry Lance guffawed. “Keep dreamin’, kid. You got a better chance with me!”

Now it was Dinah’s turn to glare at her significant other.





The oddly configured stealth-craft was called the Shooting Star, and it hovered over the abandoned New York City fairgrounds. Below, the Trylon and Perisphere were dark, the spotlights off and the doors and windows boarded up since October.


If an onlooker chanced to look up into the night sky, through the swirling snow, their gaze would slip away from the non-reflective, angular surface of the craft. Surely, they would not see the man in the garish red and yellow costume, with the ray-topped cowl at the dashboard of walnut trim.

Instruments whirred and glowed. The costumed man at the controls took the readings, his eyes narrowing.

“Chronal-radiation is spiking,” the pilot muttered. “But I’m in the wrong place. Looks like it’s coming from across town… It’s the brownstone. Of course! This has got to be it. Finally, after all this time. I just hope I’m not too late…!”





“I’m tellin’ ya, this palooka had a glass jaw,” Ted Grant said out of the side of his mouth, holding court to a trio of lovely ladies. He had loosened his collar and was enjoying his third beer by the roaring fireplace. Facing him were Myra Mason, Wendi Harris and Molly Mayne, all of them hanging on the champ’s every word. “We weren’t halfway through the first round when he---.”

“Hello, Teddy.”

The voice was aristocratic and clear as a bell over the background noise. The trio of ladies turned to give way, just as Ted Grant pushed himself away from the wall in delight.

“Only one person gets away with callin’ me Teddy,” a grin split his face as she was revealed, framed in a doorway. Luxurious, dark ringlets were restrained by a silver tiara, above an alabaster face with wide, violet eyes. She was resplendent in a simple white dress, belted with silver and complemented with silver ornaments to match the gleaming bracelets on her wrists. “Hiya, Pol. Long time, no see.”

Her lips twitched at his obviously feigned coolness. “Not since I resigned my commission in the Army and bade farewell to Patriarch’s World. Just after the war ended.”

“You don’t look a day older,” Ted Grant did not see Myra, Wendi and Molly melt away; he only had eyes for Polly Prince. “Not bad for a broad your age.”

Her eyebrows arched dangerously. It had been six years; she had forgotten his irreverent familiarity. She reached out to touch the stubble on his chin. Some of it was grey, now, but that twinkle in the eye was the same.

He cleared his throat and pointed with his beer bottle over their heads; a sprig of mistletoe hung there, directly over them.

“You are a maddening man, Teddy,” she sighed and pulled him in for a kiss.





In an upstairs room, they fumbled in the dark, tearing off clothes and exploring familiar curves and planes with hands and lips. They fell down onto the bed, giggling and panting, whispering each others’ name.

When they were done, he said, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“That young little number you’re with tonight seems to have taken your mind off me, a little,” she rested, nestled in his arms.

“Dinah, you say the word and I’ll---.”

“Shhh!” She put a finger to his lips, silencing him. “Don’t ruin it, Rex. You know I could never do that to Larry. This will have to be enough for us. For now.”

The room got very quiet, each of them thinking things they couldn’t say aloud.

After a minute, Dinah sighed. “It’s all going to be different now, isn’t it? It really is over.”

Rex squeezed her and she laid her head on his chest. “It doesn’t have to be all that different,” Rex told her. “We can still see each other. We are all still friends…”

“Are we?” Dinah wondered aloud. “I mean, of course we are, but now that we no longer,” she searched for the phrase, “Work together, I suppose? When will we ever see each other? It feels like we’re already drifting apart. What with poor Theo Knight in that sanitarium… Have you even been to see him?”

Rex’s brow furrowed. He had known Theo Knight since their college days. “No,” he was ashamed to admit. “I’ve been so busy… I tried calling once, but…” His voice trailed off.

“That’s what I mean,” Dinah’s voice held no recrimination, only sadness. “And what about Carter and Shiera? No one’s even heard from them since the Hearings---.”

Suddenly, colors exploded in every direction, in waves that rippled and illuminated the room. The whole house rumbled, not from a specific point, but as if every molecule was energized--- including the organic ones. The weird eruption lasted a few seconds, then just as abruptly, subsided.

“Whoa…!” Dinah Lance shivered and clung to Rex Tyler. “Did the earth just move,” and because she couldn’t help herself, she giggled, “Again…?”

But Rex was all business now. He flung himself out of bed, and flipped on a light, casting about for his pants.

“That was no earthquake.”





Wesley Dodds steadied the spectacles on his face, balancing in his hands the antique vase he had just kept from tumbling from the mantle and shattering on the floor; much else around the house had not been so lucky. His man Humphries would not be pleased.

Wes looked up, his eyes searching out one friend in particular. “Alan, if you please…?”

“On it.” Alan Scott was already raising his fist, the ring on his finger glowing green. At his side, his fiancée, Molly, was busy directing a disoriented Wendi Harris over to a seat, having to right an overturned chair for her.

“What was that…?” Al Pratt helped his wife Mary off the floor, dusting broken china shards from her dress.

Nearby, a tall man in a white suit and dark glasses wiggled his fingers in the air, cocking his head. “Can the rest of you still see the waveforms, too? It’s beautiful…”

“Charles, you’re scaring me,” muttered Myra Mason. Charles McNider gave her a soft smile and reached out to take her hand.

“It’s alright, my dear. They’re fading.”

“It looks like chronal-radiation,” the handsome face of Alan Scott was cast in green, as he gazed into the glow of his upraised fist. “A highly concentrated exposure…”

Wendi Harris caught her breath, looking from Alan to Charles like a deer that was ready to bolt. “What-radiation? How did he know that? Who are you people? What’s going on here…?”

Dian Belmont pressed a drink into Wendi’s hand and rubbed her back in a comforting manner. She spied Wendi’s escort Rex Tyler coming down the Grand Staircase, and looked about for Dinah. Larry Lance was helping Jay Garrick right a tilted bookcase, his wife nowhere in sight. Dian’s eyes narrowed knowingly.

“Chronal-radiation,” Al Pratt chewed the word. “That means Degaton.” He slammed his fist into an open palm, the air around his fist shimmering with power.

“Maybe,” Alan hedged. “I thought we saw the last of him in ’47, though. Jay?”

Jay Garrick waved with two fingers, then simply blinked out of existence.

Wendi Harris stared, her glass of fortified egg nog halted halfway to her open mouth. She closed her eyes and shook her head to clear it--- and there stood Jay Garrick again, as if she had just imagined his disappearance.

“He’s still where we left him four years ago.” Jay reported.

“Might be a chronal-duplicate lying comatose in that hospital bed,” Rex Tyler suggested, his shoes crunching on broken glass in the carpet.

“Or a future-self…” Al Pratt mused. “The physics around time-travel gets very strange.”

“No kiddin’, professor,” Ted Grant unbuttoned his cuffs and was folding up his shirt sleeves. “Time-travel stuff gives me a headache. I’m gonna return the favor to Degaton as soon as I see him. Time to suit-up, boys and girls.”

Rex and Al shared a look and a slight nod.

“Hold up a second, you can’t actually do that,” Joan Garrick’s voice was tentative and the look she gave her husband filled with uncertainty and dread. “What about the Hearings? You’ll be outlaws. They’ll throw you in jail.”

“They gotta catch us first,” Johnny Chambers crossed his arms and winked at Joan.

Wes Dodds had a more measured response. “We’ve always operated a little outside the law. I hardly think we’d be arrested…”

But Joan wasn’t giving up that easily. “That was the whole damn point of the Hearings!” She shot back, her language causing Jay to stare at her. “Besides, Carter disbanded the team. He said you were done---.”

“Carter’s not here, Joannie,” Rex said darkly.

“No, he’s not,” Joan shot back. “And neither is Shiera. Or Theo Knight. Or Lee Travis, Greg Saunders or Danette Reilly. Shall I go on?” Her glare gave Rex his answer. He clamped his mouth shut. “He said you were done.” Joan repeated, and her eyes were bright with tears.

“We were just attacked,” Alan said in a reasonable tone. “What just happened wasn’t natural. If nothing else, we have to defend ourselves. Protect our loved ones.” He reached out for his fiancee Molly, but she pulled away, giving him a dubious look. Alan looked stunned.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Alan Scott,” Molly chided him. “You’ve just been looking for an excuse to put that ring back to work. Your little club disbanded almost three months ago, and you haven’t taken it off once yet. I see the looks you give it. I’m starting to get jealous.”

Dinah Lance came into the hall, picking her way over shattered objects, announcing, “I can’t leave you people alone for five minutes to go to the powder room?”

“Does she always have to make an entrance?” Wendi Harris muttered sourly to Dian Belmont.

Dian cocked one eye at Dinah. “Ever since our college days at Vasser.”

It was Hippolyta who came directly to the point. “If we’re being attacked, why aren’t I harmed? I feel fine. Better than fine. Energized, almost. And where are the giant Nazi robots. Aren’t there usually giant Nazi robots with this sort of thing?” She leaned up against a wall, glancing about conspicuously for giant Nazi robots.

“There should at least have been some sort of follow-up,” Libby Lawrence agreed. “Subtlety was never Degaton’s strong suit. Shouldn’t he be here by now, going on about his masterplan and our destruction…?”

“Which is why,” Charles McNider said in his clipped and patient voice. “We should at least investi---.”

“Stop it!” The outburst was loud and sudden, and came from the least expected place: the mouth of Mary Pratt. Al’s wife had her hands poised over her ears, as if to block out the debate. Everyone turned to look at her, surprised. “Stop it, all of you. Joan’s right: it’s over! The masks and capes and the waiting by the front door all night wondering if you’re going to come home… All of it. That was the promise, right? That you were done?”

Al stared at his wife, stricken. “Mary… I had no idea…”

“Of course you didn’t, Al,” Mary looked at him with adoring, wet eyes. “You were out there fighting the good fight, and saving the world. But the world’s a different place now. It doesn’t want your help and there are no more giant Nazi robots! Your fight is done. Do you keep fighting until there are none of you left?” She glanced around the room with a stricken expression, then back to Al. “The only one you need to worry about saving is me.” Tears streamed freely down her face.

“And me,” Joan added her quavering voice to Mary’s plea, staring at her husband.

“And me,” Molly said pointedly to Alan.

“And me,” Myra told Charles.

Larry Lance took a step towards his wife, his face plaintive. “Dinah, I want to start a family with you. Not with Black Canary.”

Dinah Lance’s lip quivered and she rushed into the waiting arms of her husband. Unnoticed by anyone, Rex Tyler clenched his fist and looked elsewhere. His eyes found Wendi Harris’, and what he saw there eased the constriction in his chest a little.

But Mary Pratt wasn’t finished. “Al, I was going to tell you this later tonight. It was going to be my Christmas present to you. But--- I’m pregnant,” the words dropped heavily into the room, creating another stunned silence. Al Pratt’s mouth gaped open dumbly, as everyone looked from him to his wife. “I want you back for this. I want us to settle down. I want to start my happily ever after now, please.”

His jaw worked, but Al Pratt had no words. He took a stumbling few steps towards his wife, then, in a rush, swept her up into his arms with an exultant whoop, and the room burst into spontaneous cheering. Al swung Mary around, her feet off the ground, kissing her and mingling his tears of joy with hers. The others crowded around them, thumping Al on the back, pumping his hand, and taking turns hugging Mary.

Only Wendi Harris and Dian Belmont held back, Wendi still seated and overwhelmed by all that she had experienced tonight, and Dian standing next to her in quiet contemplation. The question seemed to be settled. It looked like the capes and cowls would stay in mothballs.

“So, these people, Rex and the rest of them,” Wendi glanced up at Dian, putting two and two together. “They’re… I mean, they were, the…” she seemed unable to vocalize it. She made a swooping motion with the flat of her hand.

“Yep.” Dian searched her clutch for a cigarette to share with her new friend. “Once upon a time, as they say. Welcome to the club, kiddo.”





They never realized a battle raged among them, fought in the divergent possibilities between seconds. And it was a battle to the death.

“Damn you, Starman, die!” Per Degaton snarled, his hands at the throat of the man in the garish red and gold costume, bending him backward over the smashed grand piano in the foyer. All around them, the partygoers were frozen in place, posed like statues but as immaterial as ghosts. They both were and were-not-yet in the places they appeared to be. Professor Zee had called it a Schrödinger Paradox. Time was in flux, and the master of the Chronocalculus bent it to his will.

“I’ve waited all year to find you, Degaton,” the hero in the ray-topped cowl gasped, his hands on his assailant’s trying to break their grip. “And I won’t let you harm them… They’ll live to take you down once and for all, even if I won’t!”

Stellar energy flared and Degaton was hurled backward, through the spectral shape of Larry Lance, slamming into a far wall. Starman lurched upright, the spiked gauntlets on his arms still aglow. He began rising off the floor, even as Degaton picked himself up, ready to continue the fight.

“Time is out of joint,” a clipped and urbane voice intruded upon their battle. Starman and Degaton both turned to look as the door to the brownstone opened and a dark-clad man in a hat and tails stepped through into the foyer. “O, cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right.”

“Impossible!” spat Degaton in disbelief. “You can’t walk into the blast radius of a chronobomb…”

“I walk many paths forbidden to others,” the man doffed his hat and sketched a slight bow. “Shadows find their way in everywhere.”

“What are you doing, Shade?” Degaton’s face had gone as red as his hair. “You have no friends here. I’ll make an end of you, too, if you interfere!”

The Shade stepped into the house, picking his way around the frozen, phantom-like figures of his some-time nemeses, and leaned on his walking stick as he halted to glare back at Degaton.

“You’re a clumsy butcher, Degaton. No art to you. No style. All bluff, gruff and threat.” The Shade gestured vaguely with one hand, around the room. “Whatever you’re doing here tonight, it’s sending waves even through the Shadowlands. I had to see for myself. And stop you if need be.”

A look of fevered triumph suffused Degaton’s face. “You’re too late. Both of you. I’ve detonated a chronobomb. They’re all as good as dead. In a matter of minutes, rapid aging will begin and they will crumble into oblivion!” He held up one tightly clenched fist. “With the HUAC Hearings, I took from them their reason for being, and tonight I take their very lives. My victory is complete.”

“You’re wrong again, Degaton,” Starman said in a weary voice. The hero pulled off his cowl, revealing a craggy, wrinkled face of an old man. His hair was brown, but seemed to be graying even as they watched. “I absorbed the blast myself,” he held up his stellar gauntlets. “And all that the residual radiation has done to them is to create a resistance to chronal effects--- it will decay eventually, but it will keep them alive long after you and I are dust. You’ve lost. And in the future, they will rise up again to stop you once and for all. I know. I’ve seen it.”

As the words sunk in, Degaton’s face purpled; he saw the truth and rage bubbled up through an inarticulate howl. He lunged at Starman, hands outstretched to throttle the life from him.

“How tedious,” the Shade muttered. He conjured a shroud of inky blackness and cast it over the charging Degaton. It enveloped the villain, cutting off his scream, then folded in on itself, taking Degaton with it.

In the sudden ensuing silence, Starman collapsed. The Shade went to him, staring down in cool detachment.

“You--- you didn’t kill him, did you…?” asked the dying hero in a rheumy voice.

“No,” said the Shade. “Let’s just say he’s cooling his heels in a dark, quiet place for a little while. He’ll find his way out eventually, I suppose.” He cocked his head, studying the features of the old man gasping on the floor. “Which is more than I can say for you. You’re not the Starman I know, are you?” It wasn’t a question.

Starman coughed and shook his head. “No,” blood flecked his lips. “I don’t have much time, and this Schrödinger Paradox is about to unravel.”

The Shade looked around at the occupants of the room, oblivious to the scene playing out among them. “They will see to you---.”

“No!” Starman’s hand shot out, seizing the hem of the Shade’s long coat. The Shade looked down in distaste, but did not pull away. “No time. And I can’t change history. They---.” He coughed, and it seemed as if his body was aging in fits and starts. His skin was mottled and his costume already seemed many sizes too big for him. “Let them have this night.”

“Very well.” It made no difference to the Shade. This time he almost pulled away, but the sacrifice of this man demanded his attention a moment longer. “Rest easy, then, hero. You’ve earned your peace, though they will never know.”

This brought a smile to the ancient face. Starman’s breath came in low rattles now. He asked, “Will you do something for me, Richard Swift?”

Another surprise! Who was this Starman, and how did he know his name? Against his better judgment, he asked, “What is it?”

Starman fixed him with clouded, brown eyes, and began unclasping his star-shaped gauntlets. “Take these gauntlets and my cosmic converter… the belt… I want you to give them to somebody. In the future.”

The Shade was intrigued. “What makes you think you can trust me with this?”

Starman’s lips formed an almost imperceptible smile. “Because you’re not who anyone thinks you are. Even yourself.”

This elicited a grim laugh. “Say you’re right. Who, then? And when?”

A spasm wracked the fallen hero’s body. He was barely hanging on now. Through the pain, he said. “Sixty years from tonight… In Opal City. Give them to Jack Knight.”

“Jack Knight…?” The Shade bent and picked up the gauntlets, turning them over in his hands. “And who should I tell him these are from?”

The Starman of 1951 managed a final smile. “Tell him his brother Davey said it’s time he got off his ass and got in the fight. I’m gonna need his help soon…”

With that, David Knight dissolved, his organic material aging into nothingness, leaving the Shade alone.

Time shifted subtly. The Schrödinger Paradox was collapsing. The Shade swept the empty uniform off the floor and with a final look at the unwitting spectators around him, he took his leave.





It was the work of a few hours to get the mess cleaned up, and they all pitched in--- all except Mary Pratt, that is; Al wouldn’t let her. He insisted that she rested, even over her strenuous objections that she was “no fragile china doll!”

Afterward, they sat down to dinner, enjoying each others’ company, and after that, they retired to Wes’ study where they had drinks--- except Mary, again--- and Dinah lead them in a chorus of Christmas carols.

Whatever threat Degaton appeared to have posed never materialized, and the night passed in front of a roaring fireplace with couples lounging on couches or snuggled up together on the thick carpet, reminiscing about old times and dreaming of days to come.

“To absent friends,” Alan Scott raised the toast.

“To new ones,” Dian Belmont added, gesturing to Wendi Harris, who had her head, sleepily, on Rex Tyler’s shoulder.

“To dear ones not yet born,” Joan Williams smiled over at Al and Mary Pratt.

They all raised their glasses, and quietly wished each other a Merry Christmas.

Outside the brownstone, on the street corner, amidst the gently-falling snow, the Shade gave a wistful sigh, and left them to their solemnities. Bearing his burden, he had an appointment to keep.


THE END