Chapter 17

New Orleans,

July 27,

An elderly gentleman in a crisp suit walked down New Orleans Street at night. He was walking with a cane and some help from street lamps. The full moon illuminated the dark clouds above. His vision was not as good as it used to be though.

He walked towards a brick building that was brightly illuminated and on the door was labelled Madame Xanadu. He looked at his golden pocket watch and looks at the woman inside and closes it. He opens the door to the sound of a clang from the bell hanging up the door. A woman steps through the shadowed doorframe her hair and skin dark but her eyes glimmered green supporting the three blue jewels on her forehead.

"Bonsoir, monsieur,” she greets. " How can Madame Xanadu be of service?" her French accent was rather mild.

"Ah, there is someone to whom you wish to speak." She stops about the distance of the table leaning forward.

"Your wife, Mai non?

The old man's hand clenches tightly around the watch.

"Yes, my Inza."

Madame Xanadu sits down on the round table. "Then madame will make contact if fate is kind."

The old man sighs as he sits down as well looking downcast. "But he so rarely is."

"Ahem." She clears her throat, looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and holds her hand out in a come here gesture.

The old man looks at her hand and reaches into his jacket, pulling out a roll of bills. "Oh of course," he says, placing them in her hand. She slips them down her shirt with no hesitation and closes her eyes.

Then the ball in the centre glows pure white and her hair is blown back by wind seemingly coming out from nowhere. The light above the table sways and creaks, the table shaking and the curtains blowing outwards. The old man watches as the table rises. Then the candles suddenly blow out.

"Oh, my darling. How I've missed you." Madam Xanadu says, though her voice is slightly higher than previously. Her eyes snap open wide, glowing white, her dress fluttering. "I'm so lonely here and cold."

The old man burst out into brief laughter. " Th-that's the best you could do?"

Everything clatters to its original place.

"Imbecile! You have broken the spell." Xanadu snaps and slams her hands on the table as her eyes open once more. "Your wife is forever lost,"

"Th-that's supposed to be my wife?" he questions her mockingly. Letting out a single chuckle before he continues. " Heck, my little spitfire would've kicked my can for throwing away good money on you."

"No refund for non-believers," Madame Xanadu spits and hastily stands up out of her chair and crosses her arms.

"Please, I think we both know you the non-believer, Madame. A wind machine." the old man gestures widely with his hand to where a wind machine is hidden from sight behind the curtains near the ceiling. "Tire jacks under the table." he lifts the long table cover to show it off then sits up straight. " A shame, too. You have the perfect aura for the work, and nothing would've pleased me more than to be reunited with my bride."

An alarm rings from one of his pockets and he searches for his League communicator. Finally, finding it he put it on.

"DEFEND YOURSELF-"

Adrenaline floods the old man's system when he hears Batman's voice. Trusting that Batman would never leave him astray, he quickly puts up a shield just as a hand attempts to grab him. Turning around he spots the face of Abra Kadabra.

"Ah, I was sure I would have been able to get the drop on you old man" another man appears in a flash of light and says with a thick accent. "I guess they got the message to you in time."

"Why are you here Abra, I thought the lesson I taught you last time would have stuck with you."

"Tsk tsk, Lesson? what lesson can a dying man teach? Without the helmet, you are nothing," he sneers.

Madame Xanadu gasps in shock, finally her flight reflexes kick in and she flees through her doorway.

"You think I am nothing without Fate?" the old man says with a sour face. "Even without the helmet, you are no match for me."

The old man shoots a blast of golden light at Abra and Abra dodges to the left and shoots another stream of lightning at the old man.

"Losing energy old man? don't you best buddy klarion will be here soon!" Abra laughs at the old man.

"And you think I wouldn't have thought of that? I’m sure you are just as talented in magic as you are strategy." the old man chuckles and vanishes in a flash of light his communicator still ringing.

***

It was 2 in the morning at Wayne Enterprises. It was the time of the night that everyone was asleep, and this was the time of the night that Bruce often took the opportunity to use the table in his study to take care of the business of Batman.

"Greetings Bruce."

Bruce looks up towards the door and spots his friend Kent Nelson leaning against the door jam, inside the room the communicator was located on the table.

“Good to see the message I sent you made it in time Kent," Bruce says. "It was quite a rush, Zatara had just finished it not a minute before your message was sent out."

"I'm relieved that you were able to have such precision with the message. Thank you, my friend." Kent sighs wearily. " We need to talk about the helmet. Fate can no longer sit on the side-lines anymore now that klarion is messing about but I am not strong enough nor do I have the desire to put on that blasted helmet.

We need someone who can take the responsibility of the helmet and also have the strength of character to no be steamrolled by Nabu the lord of order in the helmet."