Zatanna #2

High in a Technicolor blue sky, Zatanna Zatara looked over to a rainbow in the distance, and then she looked down below at the ground fast approaching her.

Don’t look down, is what they tell you, and for her rabbit Basil, peeking out timidly from the top hat his mistress clung to her chest, this would have been good advice. While the rabbit looked down, frozen, as if he was caught in some headlights, Zatanna looked down, at the landscape below, in wonder and recognition.

She’d been here before, to this timeless town, back as a teenager, when she’d been assisting in her father’s magic act. The bright blue sky above and the yellow cornfields below were unmistakable, although the Technicolor couldn’t quite do them justice. Also, there were some strange shapes carved into the numerous cornfields below that were definitely new.

“Smallville,” she gasped, and then as the ground rushed toward her, she realized now was the time to check that her magic powers were once again working.

She opened her mouth to speak, letting go of the top hat with one hand, so that her fingers were free to help with the spell, when she suddenly found herself being swept up in some powerful arms. Turning her head, she saw the man holding her... a face familiar yet different.

“Superman!?” she gasped.

The man holding her, as they descended towards the ground, looked slightly taken aback. “That was my father,” he said, setting her gently down in a cornfield.

“Your father?” echoed Zee in disbelief. “What year is this?”

“You don’t know what year this is?” he asked in return.

“Funny story,” she explained, trying to make sense of her surroundings. “Looks like I’ve gone the wrong way over the rainbow and somehow ended up in Kansas?”

“Well, you’re definitely in Kansas,” he replied, using his X-ray vision to check this new arrival, spouting her strange comments, for signs of concussion. “My name’s Joe and, don’t worry, you’ll be safe here.”

“Safe?” asked Zatanna, for a second forgetting her predicament. “Safe from what?”

“The others,” Joe replied.

Zee looked at the innocent face before her and wondered if he was being deliberately cryptic. “The Others? What, am I stuck in Lost now?” she wondered aloud.

“Sorry?” asked the confused Joe, unaware where this ‘Lost’ place she talked of was located.

Zee paused for a moment. “No, it’s me who should be sorry. I’ve just been having a bad day. It started when I woke up and found myself in a silent movie, and it’s been going downhill ever since. I guess it must be Tamara’s doing.”

“Tamara?”

“My evil half-sister. First she keeps me imprisoned me for a year, and now she’s turned my life into a movie compilation... and, trust me, that’s so not entertainment.”

“It all sounds a bit too complicated,” said Joe, scratching his head. “I’m not sure I can help.”

“Well, most of all,” said Zee, pulling a magic lantern from her top hat, “I’m looking for my father, Zatara. He left me this device which transported me here.”

“Zatara?” exclaimed Joe. “If you want him then you and your rabbit will have to travel to the Land of Zod.”

“You’re kidding me?” said a skeptical Zee. “Have I got to follow a yellow brick road to get there?”

Joe fell silent for a moment. “A yellow brick...”

“Forget it, Joe, this day’s just getting to be a bit of a snarky comment magnet. Anyway, I’ve not got time for small talk. I need to find my father and get reality back to reality,” said Zee. “Show me where this Land of Zod is and I’ll be on my way.”

“No, you’ll need help... I’ll take you to the witch. After all, it was her who sent me to collect you.”

“The witch?” exclaimed Zee, buttoning her snarky lip before it could enquire whether the witch was good and called Glinda. “What crazy sort of place has Tamara’s spell dragged me to now?”

“I guess all this magic stuff must be kind of weird for you,” said Joe, looking at her outfit, “you just being a performer.”

“A performer?!” she said angrily.

“I’m sure you’re a great performer,” said Joe, backing away, trying to calm her down. “Anyway, I know somebody who can explain it all much better than I can. Do you mind if I sing as we go there? I suddenly feel a compulsion to.”

Suddenly Zee forgot her anger at this man who’d just mistaken her for, of all things, a Muggle. “Yeah, that singing stuff’s my fault I guess,” admitted Zee, “or maybe Tamara’s. Either that or my father’s got one really weird sense of humor.”

And with that she wrapped her arm around his and they set off, dancing and singing, down the nearest road.

As Zatanna looked at the freckle-faced reporter, she suddenly noticed that he, along with the bright yellow corn behind him, was fading into black and white, and then, as he stood there, looking intently at his wristwatch, he faded completely, disappearing and then reappearing several steps behind where he’d just been standing. He was still looking at his watch, and his finger was pressing a button on it.

Zee-Zee-Zee

“So it was his watch I thought was calling your name,” said Joe, realizing his mistake and rolling his eyes. “Let’s get going,” he added quickly, taking hold gently of Zatanna’s arm.

“Wait!” demanded Zatanna and Jimmy Olsen in unison.

“Clark? Is that you?” continued Jimmy, taken aback, tears coming to his eyes.

“No, I’m his son,” said Joe, with a hint of exasperation.

“But how?” asked a confused Jimmy.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy,” Joe said, “but I’m not going through this again.”

“Through what again?” asked Jimmy, growing even more perplexed, as Clark walked away through the monochrome cornfield.

“Wait!” yelled Jimmy as he ran after the man claiming to be Clark’s son, but, even though Joe was just walking, the speed he did it at meant that he was getting further and further away from the Planet reporter.

Zatanna just stood there, in the grayness of the cornfield, tapping her foot impatiently, and wondering which movie this one was going to be, when suddenly Jimmy Olsen reappeared in the place where he’d reappeared previously, and looked at his wristwatch intently, as he pressed the button on it yet again.

Zee-Zee-Zee

“What does that do?” asked a curious Zee. “Is it some kind of teleportation device?”

Jimmy Olsen looked at her, with weary eyes. “It doesn’t do anything... not now... but I still like to press it every once in a while... just in case.”

“Just in case what?” asked Zee, still confused.

Jimmy sat down on the ground. “Just in case he comes back.”

“Just in case who comes back?”

“Superman,” he replied.

“Where’s he gone?” asked Zee innocently.

Jimmy Olsen just looked at her stunned. How could she not know? Finally, he said it, forcing the words out, feeling that feeling in the pit of his stomach just as intense as the first time he’d delivered the news, and now, just as then, he was still unable to believe it fully.

“He’s not gone anywhere... He’s dead... Superman’s dead.”

Zatanna looked at the stranger, and the fog that surrounded him, once again at a loss to figure out what movie she was in, when suddenly the stranger’s deep voice interrupted her speculation.

“Zatanna,” he began, “have you ever wondered what would happen if history had taken a different turn?”

As the wind turned chill and suddenly snow began falling all around, the daughter of Zatara slapped her open palm against her forehead. “Oh, I get it,” she said, “this must be ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’... which I guess makes you an angel called Clarence looking for his wings.”

The stranger was silent as he looked at her, his face unreadable. “No, Zatanna,” he finally replied, “my name is not Clarence... Not on this world. Not on yours.”

“Not on mine?” asked Zatanna, curious as to the enigmatic stranger’s meaning.

“There are many, many universes, Zatanna Zatara. Too many to number, too many to contemplate; all unique. Sometimes the differences are minute, sometimes the differences are vast. While yours is an Earth full of heroes, another Earth might be ruled by villains. Similarly, what’s happening on your Earth now might be just a repetition of something similar that’s happened on another world previously.”

Zatanna looked at him patiently, but wasn’t taken in by his words. With the cloak and the smoke he reminded her of so many other mysterious magical figures that put on a great show, but like those others she had no doubt that he was just a clever illusionist.

“I know you don’t believe me,” he said. “I know you just think this is yet another result of that magical spell that’s plagued you all day. I know that you’re still trying to figure out why my breath isn’t visible in this cold air.”

“You know a lot,” replied Zee dismissively, before sarcastically adding, “Do you know what evil lies in the heart of me?”

For the briefest of seconds, the stranger’s lips turned into a frown. “Yes, I know; but I don’t think you do. Not yet.”

Suddenly, a chill ran down Zatanna’s spine, and it wasn’t because of the snow.

“Now, listen, Zatanna, and listen well to what I am about to tell you, for if you wish to find your father then you must know about this world you’ve been brought to.”

Zatanna remained silent as the stranger continued talking.

“There is much we can perceive, Zatanna, but most choose to ignore it. Those are the worlds, on the edge of our existence; the possibilities that could have been. I know all about you, Zatanna, and all about your Earth. I know about the new age of heroes that has dawned there recently, with Superman, Batman, the Justice League...”

“The New Outsiders,” added Zatanna.

The stranger ignored Zee’s interruption and continued. “On this Earth, that age of heroes started decades earlier, and flickered ever so briefly, until it finished all so suddenly in 1959, with a locked room mystery as Superman was found dead in the Fortress of Solitude, with the word RAO scrawled over and over again on the floor.”

“So I heard,” said Zatanna, with a nod, “but who did it?”

“I have come to tell you what you need to know,” replied the stranger, “not what you think you need to know, so, if I may, I will continue with my tale… Two years later, in 1961, the league of heroes that had gathered together to try and track down his killer were all found dead, their bodies twisted like rag dolls.”

“So, there was a hero killer?”

“Infer what you will, Miss Zatara. All that I can tell you is that the deaths of those heroes - Batman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, The Flash, the Martian Manhunter, and Aquaman - left a legacy. On this Earth, where the greatest heroes were fallible and seldom came back to life, it was exceedingly rare for people to devote their lives to daring-do and vigilantism, and sidekicks following in their mentors’ footsteps were few and far between. Naturally, there are always exceptions, and the odd youngster would try to carry on the tradition, but inevitably they’d end up crushed beneath the key of a giant typewriter or some other macabre fate.”

“So, there are no heroes on this Earth?” asked a bewildered Zatanna.

“There are always heroes, Zatanna, and not all heroes wear costumes,” replied the stranger. “But time is running short, so I must continue with my story. I’ll move forward to the 1970s, when the numerous conspiracy theories that had grown around who killed Superman seemed to have an answer as the inhabitants of the Phantom Zone suddenly appeared and took over this Earth, or, to give it its current name, New Krypton.”

Zee looked at the stranger in shock, struggling to believe it could be true, as he continued to tell his tale.

“It was soon after they appeared, that the Kryptonians converted all of the kryptonite on Earth into iron, and, after that, the evil Kryptonians only had one weakness left.”

“Magic,” said Zatanna.

“Magic,” echoed the stranger, with the hint of a nod. “Some magic users perished at the Kryptonians’ hands, others, that were never meant to die, didn’t have that luxury.” In order to demonstrate, he pulled back the black cloak that surrounded him to reveal the black and white shimmering suit underneath.

Zatanna turned her face away from him, feeling sick, as the realization hit her that the suit was actually black, and the white shimmering flecks crawling across it were actually maggots.

And then, slowly, she turned to face him, only to see that the snow had stopped falling and the stranger had gone, leaving no footprints in the snow on the ground where he’d once been standing.

Back on the bridge, Zatanna stood there, watching the seasons quickly changing around her; the snow melted as the chill air started to warm up, and soon Technicolor was once again rushing in, turning the sky a vivid blue. As an animated hummingbird landed on her shoulder and tapped its foot impatiently, waiting for her to burst into song, her attention was instead focused on the blurred figure zooming down the road towards her. As the blurred figure slowed down, coming to a stop in front of her, she realized it was Joe.

“Faster than a speeding bullet,” she observed.

“Not quite,” he replied apologetically. “Anyway, did The Stranger explain things?”

“He sure did,” replied Zatanna, feigning enthusiasm. She was still skeptical about whether the world around her was real or just one more part of the spell, but she didn’t want to hurt this guy’s feelings by questioning his reality. “So,” she said, playing along, “are you going to take me to meet this witch you were telling me about?”

“Follow me,” he said, with a smile, and once again they set off down the road, but this time, much to Zatanna’s relief, they were neither singing nor dancing. Maybe it was a sign that the spell’s power was waning, she hoped, and then her thoughts went back to the man she was looking for: her father, Zatara, who’d mysteriously disappeared all those years ago. Suddenly, she found herself thinking back to another time that he’d left her, leaving her alone to clean up the house while he was off doing his magic act. All he’d left her with was a single broomstick and a bucket of water but she’d made it come to life and then made it into two broomsticks and then four and then eight, and they did all her work, and kept doing her work, and soon there was water everywhere and she was there, trying in vain to stop it, running around in her big red gown, and her blue magician’s hat with the white stars on it, not to mention her big round mouse ears...

Oh, no. The spell’s even tampering with my memories, realized Zatanna, with dismay, but then her attention was drawn to the Smallville farmhouse they were now approaching, as the bluebird on her shoulder hopped off in order to join the other animated creatures that were singing a song outside it. And then the witch came out of that house, looking more beautiful to Zatanna than any fairy tale princess had ever looked.

Joe looked over at Zee, as he heard her heart suddenly racing, and then he saw the look on her face, and noticed the tears welling in her eyes. He wondered what was wrong, but, for Zatanna, nothing was wrong. If she’d not believed this was another world before, not believed any of this was real, then she believed it completely, with all of her heart, now, as all skepticism was washed away by the sight of the blonde woman standing before her.

“Mother?!” she gasped.

As she stood there, next to her mother, both of them lost in silence, no doubt thinking about a life that could have been, Zatanna was beginning to wish that moment could go on forever. Still, while she’d have loved to stay here in Smallville with this Sindella for several more days, maybe weeks, perhaps years, she’d come here to rescue her father, and that was what she was going to do.

Suddenly, there was a draft from the door, as Joe suddenly appeared in the room. “We’ve got to go to City Hall,” he said.

“City Hall?” echoed a confused Zee. “Don’t tell me I’ve got to deliver a filibuster.”

A puzzled Sindella looked at her daughter who wasn’t her daughter and smiled. “City Hall is no longer a place of government here in Smallville, child. These days it’s just a meeting place for the magic people.”

“The magic people?”

“Once the Kryptonians took over, the surviving sorcerers, psychics and trench coat wearers took refuge here in Smallville, constructing mystic runes in the cornfields to keep our enemies from entering.”

“But I need to find my father,” demanded Zee, wary of any further distractions getting in her way.

“Don’t rush in, child,” cautioned Sindella. “While you’re here, in Smallville, you’re safe from the Kryptonians and their spies. Use the rest of this day to plan ahead, and gather some allies. Tomorrow, after you’ve rested; then you can begin your quest.

Before Zatanna had time to argue, Sindella had transported them to the Smallville City Hall.

“Looks like the spell’s in effect here,” Sindella observed, looking around. Three showgirls - one beautiful, young and blonde, the other two old and grotesque – were dancing around on the stage, accompanied by a deerstalker-wearing chimpanzee who was playing honky-tonk piano. Meanwhile, the rest of the inhabitants, wearing a variety of Stetsons and ten gallon hats, were either crowded around the bar, gathered around tables playing poker, or engaged in fistfights. Every so often someone would fire their gun into the air.

“Yeah, it’s a lot quieter here than normal,” agreed Joe, as he stepped over Abel’s corpse for the third time that month.

“These people are supposed to help me?” asked an exasperated Zatanna as she watched the chaos going on around her.

“If you’re going to leave Smallville, let alone take on those Kryptonians, you’ll need all the help you can get,” Sindella advised. “But choose carefully, child. There are some here who would deceive you.”

“So, who are they?” asked Zee.

“It’s not my place to say. Just trust your instincts, child. Also, listen to Joe; he knows everybody here as well as I do. As for myself, well, I have to go.”

“Go?” said Zee, visibly hurt, reluctant to let this other Sindella out of her sight for even a second.

“If you’re to set off on your quest, I’ll need to make some preparations,” began Sindella. “Don’t worry. Joe will look after you.”

“But-” began Zee, but, before she could say another word, Sindella, with but a gesture, disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“It’s okay,” said Joe, putting a comforting hand on Zee’s shoulder. “We’ll see her again soon enough.”

“I know,” said Zee, biting her lip, and then switching her emotions off – something that had been coming increasingly easy to her recently – and turning her attention back to the mission in hand. “So, Joe, who do we choose?”

“It won’t be easy finding volunteers,” replied Joe. “There are lots of powerful mages here, but few would dare face the Kryptonians; not after what they did previously.” And with that, he led Zatanna around the wild west saloon that City Hall had been transformed into, pushing anyone who got in their path aside with a blast of his super- breath.

Zatanna’s eyes took in the scene, recognizing some of the costumes, most of whom she’d only heard about from her father. Some were villains, such as Felix Faust or the Wizard - at least they were on her world - so she gave them a wide berth, wary of trusting them on this world either. Then her eyes set on a man sitting at the bar, his face in profile, and shrouded in smoke. She recognized him immediately, and came to a halt at that moment without even realizing it.

The next minute, having gotten over her initial surprise, she’d left Joe and was now marching up to the man at bar.

“John?” she said.

The man didn’t even turn his face towards her, but continued staring straight forward at the glass of whiskey in front of him.

“Howdy, stranger,” he said. “Do I know you?”

“No, I guess not,” replied Zatanna, seeing the blank look on his face. “Not in this world.”

“That’s a shame,” he replied, “‘cause you’re mighty purty. Yeah, I’m sure I’d remember you.”

“Well, I’m not from around these parts,” replied Zee, and then hesitated, before swallowing all her pride. “I... I need help...”

“You came to the right man, missy. So, what do you want - a gunslinger, a bounty hunter, or just a well-equipped gigo-”

“We don’t need his help,” interrupted Joe, suddenly standing behind Zee and the man.

“It’s okay, Joe,” said Zee, “I can handle John Constantine.”

“That’s right, little Joe,” John added with a smirk. “Why don’t you go outside and punch a horse or something?”

Joe looked at John Constantine for a second, his super-quick mind going through all of the possibilities of what he’d like to do to him, before he reluctantly relented. “Okay,” he said to Zatanna, “I’ll go and find some real help. Be careful of him.”

“I will,” said Zatanna, and, as Joe instantly disappeared to somewhere else in the room, she turned her attention back to the side of John’s face she could see.

“That wasn’t very nice,” said Zee.

“I’m not a nice guy,” admitted John. “Then again, who wants nice guys?”

Zee looked at John in wonderment. Sure he was from a different world, and the spell was making him talk in a John Wayne drawl, but underneath it all he was still the same Constantine.

“So, how can I help you, missy?” he asked, unsettled by the way she was staring at him.

“It’s my father...” began Zee.

“You want me to off him?”

“No,” replied Zatanna in disgust, “I need help in rescuing him from Zod.”

“Zod?” John echoed, and took a drink of whiskey. “Me and that no-good varmint have met before, and I’ve got me a score to settle.”

“So, you’ll help?”

“You realize you’re playing with fire,” John said, turning his face towards her, so she could finally see both sides of it, “and that means you could get burnt.”

Zee looked at him in shock, and, not being able to think of the right words to say, just said the first words that came into her head.

“The smoke... I thought it was from a cigarette.”

“Gave them up years ago, lady. Bad for your health,” he said, as the smoke from the burning side of his body filled the air between them. “No, it was Zod’s heat vision that did this.”

“But... but you’re still burning.”

“My girlfriend cast a spell on it. The flames can’t do any further damage, but they still carriy on burning; a constant reminder of that day.”

“Does... does it hurt?” Zee asked, and then wished she hadn’t, for the expression on John’s face was answer enough.

“Anyway, I better get going,” he added, breaking the silence. “My girl’ll be waiting for me upstairs.”

Zee just looked at him, his body half on fire, as he walked away.

“Wait,” she finally managed to shout out. “Will you help me?”

John looked back at her and smiled. “Like I said, lady, I’ve got me a score to settle.” And with that he headed off upstairs.

A second later, Joe was by her side again. “What do you think you’re doing? We can’t trust him. He’s got no morals whatsoever.”

“Yeah, that’s John,” she replied. “But if he’s anything like the John Constantine that I knew, then Zod’s days are numbered.”

Joe looked at Zatanna in bewilderment “I guess it’s irrelevant anyway,” he mused, “because I’ve found us an army.”

“An army?” asked Zatanna, looking at Joe’s self-satisfied smile, and the next thing she knew he’d carried her to another part of the saloon.

“Let me introduce Kid Eternity,” said Joe.

“Kid Eternity?” she said, looking at the leather-jacketed kid sitting at the bar.

“I bring dead heroes back to life,” said Kid Eternity cockily, a glass of beer in his hand. “And with all the dead heroes, that’s one pretty mighty Legion of the Dead at your disposal. Isn’t that right, ‘Keep.”

“It’s Zee,” said a confused Zatanna.

“No, he’s talking to Mister Keeper, his imaginary friend,” Joe whispered in her ear.

“At least he’s not talking to an invisible rabbit,” came a voice from under her hat.

“Basil?” she said, taking her hat off, “can you still talk?” She plunged her arm into her hat but came up with nothing.

“Maybe you should take it easy with the drink, lady,” advised Kid Eternity, as he stared at this strange woman talking to her hat.

“Are you even old enough to drink?” asked a fuming Zee, looking at the two glasses in front of Kid Eternity.

“Birth certificate says I’m in my seventies,” he replied. “That’s good enough for me.”

“So,” said Zee, giving up on her quest to find Basil as she remembered her quest to find her father, “sorry for being so rude, but can you help me.”

“Sure, no problem, lady,” said the slightly drunk boy who raised his glass to her.

“But, it’s dangerous,” she said, feeling compelled to warn the young boy before her of what might lie ahead.

The boy laughed. “I know when I’m supposed to die - they told me up in Heaven - and this year isn’t it.”

“2017, I reckon,” said a pale teenage girl, dressed in black cowboy gear, as she propped herself up at the bar next to Kid Eternity. “I won’t get that wrong again, believe me.”

Zee looked at the girl, for a second thinking the world had once again gone back to black and white. “And you are?”

“Jane... Jane Black,” said the girl. “I’m on holiday here today. So, where’s Sindella?”

“You know Sindella?” said a surprised Zee.

“I know everyone, Zee,” said the young woman with a smile. “Anyway, I was just wondering, with a name like hers, whether Sindella had gone to a ball. That would be another great party for me to crash.”

“Speaking of Cinderella, we better get out of here by midnight,” said Joe. “That’s when those three witches dancing on stage will want to tell their stories.”

“Plenty of time yet,” said Jane. “But, come tomorrow, my holiday’s over, and I go back to the 24/7 grind.”

“You can join us,” suggested Zee. “We’re off to rescue my father.”

“Don’t I just know it,” groaned Jane, her fingers playing with the ankh that hung around her neck. “Only problem is that over the next few weeks, I’ve got more work on than you could possibly imagine.”

Kid Eternity gave ‘Jane’ a worried look, but she looked back at him, and forced a smile.

“Still, the night’s young,” she said. “Let’s enjoy it while we can.”

“So, you really want to drag that Constantine creep along?” asked Joe in disbelief, as they walked away from Madame Xanadu’s table, and back to the main area of the saloon.

“Don’t worry, Joe,” replied Zatanna, taking his hand in hers and smiling at him, “I can handle John.”

“But he comes with... well... uh... baggage.”

“Tell me about it,” said Zatanna, taking a seat at the bar beside Kid Eternity and magicking herself up a drink. Taking a large gulp - after the day she’d had she needed it - she turned her attention to the leather-jacketed youngster by her side. “So, Kid, are you and your imaginary friend okay with starting out with us for Metropolis tomorrow.”

“Is that okay?” asked Kid Eternity, addressing the thin air beside him, and then turned to Zee and gave her a thumbs up. “Yeah, we’re okay with it.”

“And what about your other friend?” Zee asked, looking for the black-clad girl who had been standing next to the youngster a few seconds earlier.

“Oh, she’s gone to get her fortune read by Madame Xanadu,” explained Kid Eternity, “not that the card ever changes for her.”

“Maybe, I should go and ask her,” Zee thought aloud, but was then distracted by the golden helmet of Doctor Fate that came hopping along the bar towards her.

“No, point,” explained Kid, watching Zatanna pull a white rabbit from out of the helmet, and then struggling to push him back into her top hat. “She says she’s got to be back at work tomorrow. Still, she says she’ll probably be catching up with us later.”

“Anyway, we don’t need her,” said Joe. “Or Constantine. The Kid will give us an army.”

“But I’ve asked John now,” explained Zatanna patiently. “What harm can it do?”

“None whatsoever,” said a voice behind them, as John Constantine suddenly seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Actually, my girlfriend’s offered to come along and help as well.”

“Well, you do have good taste in girlfriends,” admitted Zee. “Who have you hooked up with this time?”

As if on cue, a blonde woman, dressed as a saloon girl, suddenly materialized beside John. “Hello, sister,” said Tamara.