It was raining there, a low fog clinging to the damp ground. It
had been raining for the past several days, and probably would still be
raining tomorrow. With a muffled curse a figure moved through the murk,
avoiding puddles and striding along the sidewalk until it reached a
large door. A steady knock, the door opened, and the shape went inside.
The club went deathly quiet as he entered the room, this tall
man wearing the dripping brown trench coat. He smoothly made his way
through the crowds and the people parted for him, looking over at him
with a mix of wariness and awe. He had quite a well earned reputation in
this community, and it was one that he used as needed.
At first glance the woman sitting at the corner table looked
quite young, her short white hair framing her face. But on closer
examination it was an odd sort of youth, really an agelessness coupled
with great power. She wore a simple, ankh inscribed gold circlet on her
brow, and beads of gold were braided with longer strands of her hair.
"It's been a while, Lyta," he smiled down at her as he pulled
out a chair to sit there beside her. He adjusted his glasses, ran his
hand across a stubbly chin and then loosened his tie. He bore a
resemblance to one of his first mentors, John Constantine, probably
intentionally.
"Hello Tim Hunter," Lyta Hall looked up at the most powerful
human magician on the planet coolly. "Something I can do for you?" she
asked.
"I've been out trying to find what happened to Hector Hall," Tim
admitted. He gestured, and one of the waitresses brought a whisky over
as he added, "No luck. How about you?"
"Ever since I tool up the mantle of Dr. Fate," Lyta sighed
softly as she touched the gold circlet, the reshaped helm of Nabu the
Wise that she wore, "he disappeared completely. I can't even sense him
mystically."
Tim nodded to her grimly, slugging some of his drink back. He
and Hector had been both good friends and strong allies, two mystical
champions working to fight a secret battle to hold back the forces of
dark magic from the mundane world. As Dr. Fate, Hector had fought
alongside the second Justice Society of America as well as standing
guard over a powerful mystical nexus in Fate's Tower, connected
extradimensionally to the city of Salem.
Things had gone badly wrong for them a few years back, when an
ancient Lord of Chaos had reawakened on Earth. Taking on the form of the
hero Kid Eternity he broke into the Salem nexus, harnessing it's powers
for himself. Hector, Tim and Lyta had returned to face him, but Eternity
was just too strong. He tore the golden helm from Hector's head, trying
to twist it's powers to create an Anti-Fate, a champion of chaos and
disorder. The helmet was warping, shifting in Eternity's hands, and it
desperately called out for help.
And Lyta found herself answering that call.
The helm was ripped out from Eternity's hands and it bonded with
the first order based mystic nearby. Sadly, Lyta's heritage as a Fury
left her open to the helm's powers, and in a flash of golden light she
became the latest incarnation of Dr. Fate. The helmet became the circlet
that she now wore, the remaining pieces of metal becoming the golden
beads in her hair. With a savagery that Hector had never possessed Lyta
attacked Eternity mystically, driving the Lord of Chaos out and leaving
only a soulless shell behind.
In the aftermath of their mixed victory Lyta and Tim searched
frantically for Hector, but there was not a trace of him, either in the
Tower, the nexus or in the city of Salem. It was as if without the
mystic powers of Dr. Fate he simply had ceased to exist.
Tim met her eyes with absolute sincerity as he softly said, "I'm
still looking for him, Lyta. I'm not giving up, now or ever."
"Thank you," Lyta smiled back sadly. She took a drink, swirling
it around her mouth thoughtfully. "Any news on the Trenchcoat Brigade?"
she asked curiously.
For a moment Tim actually snorted with laughter before he
managed to regain his self control. "If they knew you called them that,"
he shook his head with a smile. "Constantine is still MIA," he reported,
"but his daughter Joanna is active in England. Mister E is dead, I
think. The Phantom Stranger is still out and about. And Doctor Occult,"
he shrugged.
"He's in Faerie," Lyta said quietly.
Tim sat up in surprise as he asked her, "You're sure?" Them he
sat back with a frown, "Never mind, of course you're sure. Did you have
any trouble over there?"
Lyta smiled at him wryly, "Well, Queen Titania isn't talking to
me right now, but other than that it went fine."
"You're still winning friends and influencing people, I see,"
Tim chuckled softly. Lyta's normally expressive face seemed to almost
shut down, and he visibly winced. "I'm sorry," he said with a soft sigh,
"I wasn't thinking..."
"Never mind," she waved, but from the look on Lyta's face it was
clear he had hit a raw nerve. Quietly she asked, "Any sign of the
Specter?"
"Hal Jordan's still the host spirit to the Specter, the
personification of the wrath of God," Tim reported quietly, "and I
understand he's been concentrating more on the cosmic aspects of his
various duties, preventing unholy beings from invading our reality,
protecting from any extradimensional threats, that kind of thing."
"Good," Lyta said firmly, "we don't need to deal with those kind
of threats with all the omens pointing to something big coming at us
from space."
Tim nodded his agreement, "I went to see Madame Xanadu about
that."
Lyta's eyes widened slightly. Xanadu was a tarot reader and
powerful mystic in New Orleans, who's visions of the future were quite
reliably accurate. "Did you get any new details?" she asked, leaning
toward him eagerly.
"Not really. A big bad," Tim shrugged slightly, "not from Earth,
but spawned here somehow. Arising from the twin daughters of light and
shadow, reaching out in conquest from the stars." He closed his eyes,
remembering the black haired beauty with the cold, dead eyes, her shop
filled with occult artifacts that even gave him the chills.
"Well, that was helpful," Lyta sighed.
"But it'll probably all be dead on accurate when the brown stuff
really does hits the fan," Tim pointed out to her gloomily.
"That's the trouble with prophecy," Lyta agreed. She pushed her
chair back and rose, "I'd better be going. There's things I've got to
do."
She took a step away when Tim spoke softly, "Lyta?"
"Yes?" Lyta looked back at him curiously.
Tim took off his glasses, rubbing at his eyes tiredly before
putting them back on. "The new Justice League," he said to her quietly,
"Madame Xanadu also said that it might be a good idea if you became a
member."
Lyta looked down at him, an pale eyebrow raised, "With my
history in superteams that's not a very good idea." A founding member of
Infinity Inc., she had been there when the team had fallen apart in an
orgy of violence and death. Wildcat and Skyman's murders, Obsidian's
madness, things hadn't turned out well at all.
Tim shrugged eloquently, "That's what she said."
Lyta nodded reluctantly, "I'll think about it."
The white haired woman felt the eyes of the crowd on her and
Lyta smiled coldly. She had a reputation too, one that was known by
almost all of the world's true mystics. As a Fury she had slain the Lord
of the realm of Dreams, Morpheus himself, a crime that his brothers and
sisters in the Endless would never forgive.
Stepping outside Lyta took a deep breath of the air, savoring it
after the smoky air within. Sensing a presence she summoned her powers,
her ordinary clothes shifting to the blue and gold armor of Dr. Fate's
battle garb, the ankh on her circlet glowing softly.
Lyta's eyes widened slightly, recognizing who it is, and she
oddly relaxed. "Death," she named her companion softly, looking around
to spot her.
The pale skinned young woman sat on a stone wall nearby, her
white skin contrasting sharply with her black punk garb and ebony hair.
Her eyes were circled in black, and around her neck an golden ankh swung
gently, the symbol of death and rebirth.
Death of the Endless jumped down easily, walking over to where
Lyta stood. She looked up at the white haired woman as she softly said,
"As long as you possess the power of Dr. Fate, I can't claim you. Not
without throwing off some very important balances." She smiled slightly,
"But once the power passes to another, I'm free to take you."
"I know," Lyta met those dark eyes with regret and an odd sort
of longing as she sadly said, "I'm looking forward to it."
Death reached up, stroking Lyta's cheek gently, "So do I."
Without even a whisper of sound, Death was gone...
To be continued!
(A long) Author's Notes: Tim Hunter was first introduced in Books of
Magic #1-4 by Neil Gaiman. The four members of the Trenchcoat Brigade
(Dr. Occult, Mr. E, John Constantine and Phantom Stranger) were also
featured there. Lyta Hall was the daughter of Fury, a WW II era heroine
who was given her powers by the Furies of Greek mythology, a power Lyta
inherited. She along with the kids of other heroes of her mom's era
formed Infinity Inc., but things didn't turn out well. Her husband
Hector Hall became the new Doctor Fate in JSA #1-4, and remains so in
the current comics. Lyta was partially responsible for the death of the
Sandman in the storyline 'The Kindly Ones,' something that his sister
Death has not forgiven her for.
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