Courageous Read online

  “Cool. Find anything good?”

  Petra shook her head. “Not much we didn’t already know. Though I am noticing that Ms. Infinity is getting more and more prevalent the further into the series we go.” She turned the comic so I could see the page she was referring to.

  “Yeah,” I said, looking at the shapely woman dressed in the one-piece silver body suit. Ms. Infinity’s domino mask was embossed with a purple infinity symbol, and her dark hair was flung over her shoulder. One hand on her hip, the other down at her side, she wore the same sort of “I’m a hero, dammit” grin that Courageous often did.

  “In his biography, Mitt Nollen said he kind of screwed up with Ms. Infinity. He said she’d started out as just Courageous’s love interest, and he hadn’t thought much about her beyond that. And then, when the readers started expressing interest in her, he had to scramble to figure out who she really was and what her powers were.”

  “I’m seeing that,” Petra said, turning her focus back to the comic. “This is issue number forty-one, well into the series, and certainly not the first time she’s appeared, but it’s the first time her immortality is mentioned, and it’s the first time we see her fight.”

  And what a fight it was. Issue #41 was considered the point where Ms. Infinity really came into her own. When Commander Courageous was attacked by the Noscala, beings from another universe that didn’t have a concept of fear, Ms. Infinity stepped up and saved his bacon. Repeatedly. On one page, Ms. Infinity delivered a roundhouse kick that sent a Noscala, sort of like a four-armed humanoid with a squid head, sailing out of the panel. On the next page, a group of Noscala armed with massive laser cannons unloaded their advanced weaponry at her. Being immortal meant that the energy blasts that had killed countless other beings simply bounced off her. Some comic fans often quibbled that immortal didn’t equate to invulnerable, but it was later explained that Ms. Infinity actually died and regenerated so fast that it merely looked like she was unaffected by the attacks.

  “She doesn’t have her infragillium knuckles on, though,” Petra said, turning a page.

  “Those don’t get introduced until the early Silver Age,” I replied. “And she doesn’t start learning magic until then, either.”

  “But she is immortal and fierce,” Petra grinned. “I always liked her.”

  “I’m sure Mitt Nollen would be happy to hear you say that. Speaking of whom, guess who I just met?”

  “Whoa,” she said when I finished recapping what had just happened. “Seriously?”

  “I know, right? I met Mitt Nollen! You have no idea how much control it took to not go all fanboy on him. But Petra, I understand how the amulet works now. I think I can use it.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Petra replied. “I can’t wait to hear all about it. The others will be excited to learn about this, too.”

  “First, let’s go check in with Mrs. Rita and see how Megan’s doing.”

  The medical bay in Courage Point was outfitted with devices that only existed in the Commander Courageous comic universe, yet Mrs. Rita had made herself completely at home here. She was tapping away at one of the Alexis interface screens as if she’d been working with them her whole life. Before I could say anything about it, she said, “Ah, you are here. Good. Megan woke a short while ago. It will be good for you to speak with her.”

  “How is she?”

  “I think she is considerably better now that she has her wits about her and has taken a shower. I took the liberty of giving her some clothes I found in the closet.”

  “Good call,” Petra said. “No amount of detergent would get that much blood out of a sweater.”

  We rounded the corner and found Megan and Herb locked in a face-sucking kiss. In unison, Petra, Mrs. Rita, and I turned on our heels and left, waiting out in the hall until we heard them part with a wet smack. Then I popped my head in. “Hey, Megan,” I said, acting as if I hadn’t seen anything. “Welcome back. How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve been better,” she said, waving me in. Mrs. Rita and Petra followed me. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. But Treggen’s not in my head anymore, and I can think clearly. I understand I have you to thank for some of that.”

  “Herb did all the hard work,” I said, nodding to the necromancer. Megan gave Herb’s hand a squeeze. “How much do you remember?”

  “All of it,” Megan said with a shudder. “Well, there is a bit of a black patch, right after Xavier died, when Treggen hit me with a beam of green light. The next thing I knew, you were gone, and Treggen was compelling me to carry him around like a lousy fashion accessory.” She looked at the group of us in the room. “It’s great to see you all, but I need to speak to Vincent privately for a minute, about what happened before. Could you please excuse us?”

  Herb looked from Megan to me and then nodded. He and Petra made for the door, and Mrs. Rita joined them, shutting the door behind the group as they left.

  “What’s on your mind, Meg?”

  “You fed Sojin to me.”

  I rubbed at the back of my neck. “Yeah, about that. I know you probably didn’t want to hurt anyone, but you needed to feed and the guy was kind of an ass, so—”

  “Thank you.”

  “I figured he— Wait, what?”

  “Thank you. Yes, Sojin was a horrible human being. Treggen promised him power and money and much more.” She shivered, and from the look in her eyes, I knew that Sojin had asked Treggen for some playtime with the little blonde strigoi mort. “I could still think, was still aware of what was going on, despite the fact that Treggen was in the driver’s seat, and I swore that if I broke free, I would kill Sojin. Granted, I’d intended to shoot him, but what I did was much more satisfying. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Herb about this, because I think he’d use his powers to torment Sojin’s soul. He’s dead, by my hand, and that’s enough for me.”

  “Fair enough,” I said. “But, are you okay?” I gestured to her. “You’ve undergone quite a change.”

  Megan sighed and ran her hands through her hair, which was still damp from her shower. A few drops fell onto the blue sweatshirt she was wearing. “I didn’t want to become undead, if that’s what you mean. But in the months since I learned what I was, I’ve made peace with it. Mrs. Rita was a big help with that, she helped me see that even though I was going to change, I was still me. Yes, my diet is going to be very different from now on, and that was the scariest part. But together, she and I worked out how I can get blood like the vampires do, from the banks.”

  “And the souls?”

  “I’ll focus on draining people like Sojin,” she said. “They deserve it.”

  “About that. Do you actually eat them? Like, they don’t go on to the afterlife?”

  “Not exactly. It’s kind of like when you drink a Pepsi. When you’re done with the soda, you throw the can away. I don’t take everything that makes up a person’s soul, just part of it. I’m sure he’ll still get to the afterlife, but if there’s any justice in the universe, it won’t be much of one.”

  Megan was surprisingly chill about becoming an undead, but she was right, she’d had months to process and prepare. And if Mrs. Rita had been helping her, then she’d be in good shape. Still, I felt guilty about everything that had happened.

  “Meg, I’m sorry, about all this.” I made a sweeping motion with my hand.

  “I know,” she said. “I know you made some mistakes, Vincent, but I also know you’ve really tried to make things right. And you healed Herb. That was all I wanted, and you did it.” We smiled at each other, and I felt some of the tension that had been between us fade. “But now, we have a bigger problem to deal with.”

  I nodded. “Treggen. What are his plans, Meg? What’s he after?”

  Megan ran her hands through her hair. “He has several targets. One was an a
mulet in a hidden Caulborn storehouse. I’m not sure what it was for, but right after Treggen possessed me, he had Xavier and me carry him there. We found the amulet and then returned here.”

  “The amulet is a talisman that allows the wearer to absorb the fears of the people around him and then project those fears out,” I said. “I’m good on that part, we can talk more about it later. But what else?”

  “The Park Street Church,” Megan said. “There are demons there that Treggen plans on using.”

  “Pff. No way. The Dodici Prophecy…” I stopped. The Dodici Prophecy said that twelve demons would break their bindings. It said that twelve would open the gates of hell and all would burn. Galahad thought that meant the demons would win. Was Treggen part of that prophecy? Now I was kicking myself that I’d never read the entire thing. “Did he say when he was going for the church?”

  Megan’s brow furrowed. “He seemed confident that whatever was going to happen there, it was going to happen soon.” She fidgeted with the edge of her blanket. “I don’t know more, I’m sorry. He does seem… unstable, though.”

  “Say more?”

  “It’s hard to explain. He’s still Treggen, still lucid, still sharp, but sometimes, he’d completely derail himself. Do you remember, right after Xavier died, he went on about how he wanted a cheese sandwich?”

  “Yeah. Croatoan told me that when Treggen displaced Croatoan from the celestial phylactery, he might have gone a bit mad.”

  “I think he did. But make no mistake, Vincent, this madness, if that’s what it is, won’t be much more than a minor distraction. I know he’s got something big coming. I just wish I knew what it was.”

  I rubbed my face. A part of me had been hoping that Treggen would’ve monologued in front of Megan about his plans, but Treggen wasn’t stupid. He’d know that if Megan somehow escaped his compulsion, she’d expose his plans to the Caulborn.

  Okay. So, Megan got turned, and Treggen didn’t let her feed. That meant either: a) he wanted Megan to starve to death; or b) he didn’t see a need for her after a few days. That meant our timetable might be a whole lot tighter than I’d originally thought. “All right,” I said, “I’m going to check the church. I can say with certainty that Stranger Wolfram, the guy who’s overseeing that the Dodici Prophecy gets fulfilled, won’t let Treggen interfere, unless he actually has a part to play. Let’s hope he doesn’t. You rest a bit. I have a feeling we’re going to see a lot more action pretty soon.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way, partner,” Megan said with a smile.

  I left the room and sent Mrs. Rita and Herb back in. Petra caught me by the arm in the hallway. “Is Megan okay? What’s wrong? You have that look.”

  “What look?”

  “The look that says the world is about to end and you think you’re the only one who can do anything about it.”

  “I have a look for that?”

  “Yes, and I’ve been seeing it a lot more often lately. You’re not on your own, Vincent.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “Tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”

  I sighed. As usual, Petra was right. “Treggen’s going to make a move on Park Street Church. I’m going there now to check on things. I’d love to have you along.”

  “What are we waiting for, then?”

  We told Gears where we were headed, and then a portal took us to the sidewalk just outside the church. Two days ago, I’d helped defend the church against Croatoan along with some of my friends, Petra included. Of course, unbeknownst to me, Stranger Wolfram had been shielding the church the whole time. If Treggen really was part of the prophecy, no such shields would be in place.

  As if reading my mind, Petra said, “What happens if Treggen’s supposed to work with the demons? Or help free them?”

  “Then we do everything in our power to stop him,” I said. “He’s got Señor Fear’s amulet, and while I have no clue why he’d want that, there’s no way it’s good. Treggen plus Señor Fear’s powers plus twelve demons looking to go on a bender equals trouble that Boston just doesn’t need.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Petra said.

  We walked up the steps and into the church. The doors were unlocked, but it being a weekday, there were no parishioners inside. The lights were on, though, so someone had been here recently. “Where are the demons imprisoned?” Petra asked.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” I admitted. “I’ve seen the chamber where they’re held a few times in Glimpses, but I’m not sure how to get there. And the boss never told me, either.” I was realizing just how little I’d spoken with Galahad about this. I guess I figured there would always be time for it later. That, and I assumed he’d be around to take point on this one. I’d planned to help, naturally, but I figured I’d be playing the “unload a whole ton of supernatural firepower” kind of role. Of course, that was when I was a god with powers that would rival a demon’s. Now… Well, now I just had to be extra clever at everything.

  I gave myself a shake. This was not the time for self-doubt and introspection. “The chamber’s underground,” I said. “And Caulborn agents sealed it shut back in the 1850s. So, let’s find a set of stairs leading down and see what we can see.” We found a staircase at the back of the church and headed down into the basement. Unlike the grungy, dim environment I’d seen in Glimpses, the basement was finished, cheerily lit, and looked as if it was often used for Bingo nights or other functions. There were no other obvious ways down; I didn’t see any other doors off this room, other than the ones for the bathrooms, and I knew for a fact that no one installs plumbing around an area that’s going to house arcane wards. I said as much to Petra.

  “Why is that?” she asked.

  “Water messes with eldritch energy.” I said, looking around the room for something I might have missed.

  “So, the Chamber of Secrets couldn’t have happened?”

  “Well, I suppose it’s possible that Salazar Slytherin could’ve had access to magic that wouldn’t be affected by the water, but I doubt it. Water causes nasty interference with enchantments. Think about when you try to ask Siri a question in a noisy room. The voice recognition gets all screwed up, and instead of searching for ‘What was the final score?’ Siri picks up on the background noise and searches instead for ‘assassin urinal cores.’”

  “Did that really happen?”

  “Once,” I said. “And I’m kinda terrified of what an assassin urinal core might be.” I waved a hand. “Anyway, I’m coming up with nothing. Do you see anything?”

  “No,” she replied, poking her head around a divider.

  “All right, we’re going to have to do this the hard way.” I triggered my Glimpse and threw the world into high-speed reverse. People appeared and vanished from the room, the pastor, a bunch of bingo players, a group of kids I assumed was a youth group, Katrina Grady among them. A maintenance man in blue coveralls and a ball cap moved around the room, inspecting… what, exactly?

  My plan had initially been to let the Glimpse run until I saw Galahad pop into view, and then just follow him, but something seemed off about the maintenance man. At first, I thought he was spackling holes in the walls and then touching them up with paint, but the paint had a faint glow to it, and there didn’t seem to be anything left behind on the walls after he ran his brush over it. Now, I can respect a guy who can match paint so well that you can’t tell it’s been touched up, but I should’ve at least been able to see that it was wet.

  Moving through the Glimpse, I got closer to the maintenance man. His brush moved with quick, precise strokes, as if he were doing calligraphy rather than painting. He moved all around the room, his invisible painting spiraling all around the chamber. Finally, he stepped to a spot on the wall opposite where I was now, knelt down, and checked over his shoulder. He took the screws off of a plate on the wall, revealing a hidden
keypad.

  He pressed a series of buttons in quick succession, and a hidden panel in the wall, just tall and wide enough for a single person to step through, popped open. The maintenance man pressed one last button, the plate he’d removed earlier snapped back onto the wall of its own accord, and the man stepped inside. I released the Glimpse.

  “Over here, hon,” I called, striding to the wall with the fake plate.

  I didn’t bother with the button pressing. Now that I knew where the door was, I simply used my apertus energy and… The secret door swung open, and Petra and I found a staircase spiraling down. Petra produced a small flashlight from her pocket and led the way down. After about three steps she stopped and turned.

  “The door is still open,” she said.

  “Oh, that’s not good,” I replied, bounding back up to the landing. Try as I might, there was no obvious way to shut the door. Pushing on it was like pushing on a brick wall; I even tried playing with the fake switch plate. No luck. Petra joined me, threw her shoulder against the door, and grunted when it didn’t give. I’ve seen Petra throw grown men across the street like dolls and lift cars like they were made of cardboard. Whatever was holding this door open was worthy of Uncle Heph.

  “Jeez,” she muttered as she tried again to no avail. “What did they make the hinge locks out of? Adamantium?”

  “Okay,” I said, “no one’s here right now. Let’s check out the chamber below, make sure everything’s cool, and then we’ll get back up here and shut the door from the other side.” I could tell by her expression that Petra wasn’t a fan of this plan, and truth be told, I wasn’t, either. But if I was going to get caught by the church’s pastor at a secret door, I wanted to know that nothing nasty was about to come running out of the shadows and try to eat me.