Everything I touched was golden
Everything I loved got broken
On the road to Mandalay
Every mistake I've ever made
Has been rehashed and then replayed
As I got lost along the way.
--- "Road to Mandalay" by Robbie WWilliams

 Highgate Cemetery

Jennifer Kale shivered slightly, smelling the coming rain that threatened to turn this nocturnal ceremony into a total wash in more ways than one. She was sitting cross-legged on the damp ground, a few candles flickering brightly before her. To her left, Dakimh the Enchanter floated, invisible to all but his former apprentice. The aged wizard looked as tired as Jennifer felt. "Again, my pupil," he murmured.

Jennifer sighed, closing her eyes tightly. She could hear movement all around her but she tried to ignore it. Since the Barrier had gone up, magic had been on the rise throughout the British Isles, resulting in the return of creatures long thought of as only myth. Here in Highgate, this had meant the rise of zombies and the undead. They now prowled the tombs and passageways of the cemetery, frightening away the curious on a nightly basis. "Dakimh... It's not working."

"Impatience is a sign of weakness."

Jennifer glanced over at him, seeing the familiar signals of disapproval in his stance and expression. "I'm not being impatient. If I were, I wouldn't have spent the past three and a half hours working at this. The magic that Blackheart used to trap the sorcerers' spirits is too strong -- I can't pierce it!"

Dakimh moved forward, his intangible body passing through a large tombstone. "I was convinced that now was the proper time. Perhaps if I alter the central spell somewhat, bring in some more of the Atlantean magicks and mix them with the wild sorcery that's so thick in the air here...."

Jennifer stood, feeling a twinge in her lower back. After spending most of the day listening to Caretaker's stories of the past, she'd hoped to finish Dakimh's ceremony quickly. She understood the importance of helping the souls of Dr. Strange and the others move on -- Hell, she felt incredibly guilty over not having saved them after they had all entrusted her to do so -- but she could feel the Ghost Rider itching to get out. He wanted to ride so badly -- and, strangely enough, Jennifer wanted to let him. I'm really starting to enjoy Noble's nocturnal escapades, aren't I? she mused. 

The sudden sound of a motorcyle's engine made both Jennifer and her ethereal mentor glance about. The flaming visage that roared through the cemetery was all too familiar to Jennifer, who had faced this being as both friend and foe. 

Dakimh muttered a curse beneath his breath, adding "What in the names of the seven hells is that?"

Jennifer moved forward, clenching her fists at her sides. She could feel Noble inside her mind, urging her to remain calm, assuring her that this being was no longer a threat to them -- but she still erred on the side of caution and readied a defensive spell against any sudden attack.

The creature's mystic bike skidded to a halt before her and the massive figure that sat upon it glared at her through a halo of smoke and flame. "You itchin' for a fight, girl?"

Jennifer relaxed somewhat, growing more comfortable as the man called Vengeance made no threatening moves. "Sorry, Michael. Just jumpy, I guess."

Michael Badilino, who had sold his soul to Mephisto so that he could become the entity known as Vengeance, knew full well why Jennifer had greeted him so uncertainly. He'd been on both sides of the fence -- first as a law-abiding comic who slowly slipped down the slopes into fascism, then later as the retribution-dealing demon who had gone from being Ghost Rider's most bitter enemy to a sometime ally. "Who's the guy playing Casper?"

Jennifer looked over her shoulder, seeing Dakimh still hard at work, trying to finish his spell. "That's an old friend of mine... I'm kind of surprised you can even see him, though. Most people can't."

"I'm not most people." Vengeance stepped away from his bike, though he left its engine running. "I need to speak to skull-face. The Furious -- she's still out there."

Jennifer's reply was to turn back towards her old mentor. "Dakimh... I have to ride. You understand?"

The aged wizard nodded slowly, lost in thought. "Go, if you must. I shall find you if you are needed."

Jennifer felt a frown come over her. "Yeah, you're welcome," she whispered. Her next thoughts were lost in a rising cascade of pain as her flesh began to melt away in a flurry of Hellfire. Her body altered, becoming thicker and taller, the shape of her form becoming more masculine as she surrendered control. In seconds, the young beauty was gone, leaving behind only the eternal Spirit of Vengeance -- Noble Kale, the Ghost Rider.

Vengeance heard the familiar roar of Ghost Rider's bike and remained standing as the mystic transport raced by within inches and and stopped at Ghost Rider's feet. Noble touched the handlebars, his gloves seeming to caress it with an almost gentle motion. He was clad once more as Daniel had always preferred, in the black leathers... and it felt right. The red and yellow, though preferred by Jennifer, did not sit well with him. At least not now, with pieces of his past confronting him dead in the face. "We must free Stacy of this horrible curse. She is an innocent in all this."

Vengeance nodded, resuming his place atop his motorcycle. The two eldritch-powered vigilantes rocketed out of the cemetery, each bikes keeping perfect pace with the other.  "We can try, but she's in real deep. The best thing we might could do is end it for her."

Ghost Rider stared hard at his companion, the empty eye sockets of the Rider's skull glowing fiercely. "No killing! Do you understand?"

"Fine... We'll play it your way. For now."

W.H.O. Headquarters

Amber Greene tried to ignore the fact that James Heathrow's third eye had fallen to the desktop and was slowly inching its way to the floor, leaving behind a trail of greenish goo. 

It was a difficult task, as her own eyes kept gravitating to the disgusting object. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to look back at her superior in the Weird Happenings Organization. He, like so many others since the Black Mass Barrier was erected, had been drastically altered as of late. With the rise in magic, Heathrow had found himself the sudden recipient of a third eye, which had formed in the middle of his forehead. The new orb seemed to have a mind of its own, frequently attempting to flee to its own devices. What it wanted to do was unknown, though much speculated upon. Amber tried to smile reassuringly, even though she felt increasingly queasy. "I'm sorry... Could you repeat that?"

 Heathrow sighed. He leaned back in his chair, examining the woman before him. "Amber... Why do you do this? To me? To your career?"

Amber blinked. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

He leaned forward, apparently not noticing that his escaping eye had slithered down to the floor. "You're a bright, vivacious young woman. You could own this organization by the time you're 35 -- if you apply yourself. But you continue to go off on these wild flights of fancy instead of doing what is asked of you. I assign you to follow Jennifer Kale and what do you do? Become embroiled in a minor battle between the Ghost Rider and some bloody criminal called the Furious. And your reports -- They sound like some kind of romance novel! Look at this," he said, holding up a paper before him. "Jennifer Kale is lovely, with a warm, sensuous laugh that enchants all who hear it. What is that?"

"It's part of my psych profile of the subject," Amber responded, color rising to her cheeks. Truth be told, she might have gotten carried away in her appreciation of Ms. Kale, but she would never admit it.

"It reads like some scurvy romance novel." Heathrow rose from his desk, moving around to sit on its surface. By pure chance, his foot missed squishing the third eye by mere inches. "Amber. Please. Try to listen to me and--"

The sudden opening of Heathrow's office door made both Amber and her boss jump in surprise. A security officer looked sheepishly in, but he didn't bother apologizing. "Dr. Heathrow! Engagement Team Beta is back -- and they caught their quarry! He's a scary blighter, if I do say so, sir!"

Amber rose, following after Heathrow as he rushed down the hall. The third eye, forgotten in the sudden rush, continued to slither away to possible freedom. "James? Who did Beta go after?"

"I was going to tell you about it, Amber, but we never got around to it. Since you were doing so poorly with the Kale investigation, I focused on our missing Mr. Blaze and--" 

Amber failed to hear the rest of Heathrow's words. Her heart had risen up in her throat and she could feel its hammering with every breath she took. There, being carried down the halls by a troop of armored W.H.O. agents was a being who looked like the spiritual twin of the Ghost Rider. In fact, it was the demonic being known as Zarathos, once more tied to his old human host, John Blaze. "You didn't...."

Heathrow grinned. He pumped a fist in the air as a number of his fellow investigators let out cheers of joy. "I did. As of today, W.H.O. is in possession of the original Ghost Rider -- and we're going to do everything we can to find out more about these beings and whether or not they pose a threat to England!" 

Amber said nothing, though she felt her stomach continue its slow slide into nausea. Zarathos looked unconscious and even the flames about his skull were flickering dimly. She had no reason to feel so protective of Jennifer Kale, but in the weeks that she'd been studying her, she'd become very enamored of the other girl. And if James is willing to do this to Zarathos, he'd be willing to do it to Jennifer....

The Museum of Pagan Antiquities

The Furious strode through the empty halls of the museum, taking in all the sights and sounds of the past. In its strangely androgynous mind, it could see the rush of ancient armies and smell the stench of battle-shed blood. 

Here, the Furious felt strangely at peace. In this new world, so rich in magic and mysticism, the Furious was very powerful -- but it was not the world that the Furies had once known. And they had never been confined to a single host before... the sensations of being amalgamated were odd and frightening.

"You shed innocent blood."

The Furious paused, hearing the barely restrained anger in the voice of the new arrival. The Furious turned slowly, looking over its shoulder at the Ghost Rider, who stood with fists clenched, a segment of chain wrapped around its fingers. "Noble. You came."

"You slew the security guard."

"And you state the obvious." The Furious moved forward with languid grace, its movements seeming both masculine and feminine at turns. "Do you feel distressed at Dolan's servitude? She certainly does -- but she no longer fights us. She has begun to enjoy our punishings. So like a modern woman -- all masochists at heart."

Ghost Rider waited, letting the Furious come so close that the villain was able to reach out and touch his chest, caressing it like a lover. "Your former host -- the Ketch boy -- he loved this woman, didn't he? Did you lover her as well, Noble? Surely you must have, sharing so much of his mind and body as he lay with her at night...."

Ghost Rider grabbed the villain's arm, holding it tightly and pulling the being closer to him. "Silence! You will not profane the relationship that Daniel and Stacy shared! Instead, feel the pain of all your sins!"

The Furious found itself confronted with the dreaded Penance Stare, the most horrible of all the powers possessed by the Spirits of Vengeance. The emotions, the turmoil, of all the Furious' actions were delivered at once back at the villain. The Furious screamed in agony, trying to wrench itself free. "Stop! Stop this! What we do is a sacred mission! There is no sin!"

"I judge you guilty... and the guilty shall be punished!"

The Furious exploded outwards with an energy burst. The Spirit of Vengeance was thrown away from the villain, losing its group on the Furious. The entity staggered back, still reeling from the Penance Stare. It had not lost its full hold on Stacy Dolan, but it was weakened considerably. 

Noble Kale rose slowly from the floor, watching as Vengeance emerged from the shadows to charge the Furious from behind. The blow sent the woman to her knees. "Do not do serious harm to her! Remember who is within!"

"I know what I'm doing, Rider! Don't lecture me!" Vengeance raised a hand, pulling off one of the bony spikes that lined his shoulders. He stabbed down with the spike, narrowly missing the villain, who rolled to the left.

"Foolish male! You are living proof of Noble's hypocrisy! You are nothing more than a killer, yet you are accepted as an ally?!" The Furious slashed a hand upwards, the nails of its hands twisted into claws. The sound of them striking bone echoed through the museum and left Vengeance reeling.

The Furious rose back to its feet, summoning its mystic spear back to its hand. It stabbed Vengeance in the gut, twisting the blade deep. The retribution-dealing hero cried out as energy raced through him, burning his soul. 

As the Furious raised the spear upwards for another blow, a surprising voice made the villain halt its attack.

"Stace...."

The Furious felt its control slip almost immediately, surprised at the sudden surge of emotion from its host. Stacy Dolan reached up with shaking hands and pulled away the golden mask from her face. "Oh, God... Please let it be true...."

Daniel Ketch stepped forward, wearing the same clothes as the last time she'd seen him... so long ago. He looked so good to her, like a dream come true. "Stace, put that thing down, okay?"

Stacy looked down at the spear and dropped it, letting it clatter to the floor. With tears welling in her eyes, she whispered "Dan....?"

Dan moved forward and took her in his arms, pulling her close. Stacy Dolan, once the model of feminine strength, broke down with frightening rapidity. "Oh, Dan... God... I'm so scared. And I missed you!"

Vengeance remained silent, watching from afar. He and Noble had discussed this en route, though the Spirit of Vengeance was hesitant to resort to such methods. A small spell, placed in Noble's mind by Jennifer Kale, allowed him to once more create a simulcra of Daniel Ketch*, one that would definitely fool Stacy in her current state.

(*As done in issues one and two of this series.)

Noble, still wearing the guise of Daniel, pulled away from Stacy. "I promise to help you with this. I know some people who can help banish this entity from you." He kissed her forehead, making her smile softly.

"I trust you. I should have trusted you from the beginning but it was so hard and I was... I was scared, Dan. Of the Ghost Rider. Of losing you."

Noble nodded, letting her talk out her problems -- it lasted several moments and mostly conssisted of fearful whispering and apologies. As gently as he could, he held her against him until she grew weak in his arms and her voice began to fade. "She is exhausted," he said, his true form beginning to return.

"How long before the Furies take over again?"

Noble looked into her face and he felt the heart he shared with Jennifer Kale skip a beat. Stacy, even with the lines of worry on her face, was still breathtakingly beautiful. "Not long. But it will have to be enough. Vinu soruntium hoggoth."

"Come again?" Vengeance asked, as eldritch energy surrounded Stacy Dolan's slender form. Her countenance took on a peaceful aspect. 

"With Jennifer's help, I have placed her in a magical form of suspended animation. She will remain thus until Dakimh and Jennifer can remove the curse."

Vengeance allowed his own form to alter, letting the flames die out and his true face -- that of the cynical former cop, Michael Badilino, return once more. "I'm bushed, too."

"Are you going to stay in London?"

"Where else can I go? That damned barrier's got everything locked up tight."

Noble nodded slowly, lifting Stacy up into his arms and carrying her easily, cradling her head against his shoulders. "Is everyone in my life doomed to be affected so? To lose their innocence and be forced to take part in this games of life and death?"

Badilino didn't reply, for similiar thoughts had crossed his own mind. Such concerns had led him to avoid relationships of any kind in the past few years... and he now wondered if Jennifer Kale would one day have to do the same.

Highgate Cemetery

Left behind by the twin harbingers of vengeance, the wizard Dakimh pushed on. He could feel the walls between the mortal world and the astral plane weakening. If only Jennifer had pressed harder....

No. She did all she could. She is not my pupil any longer... She is more, and less. She is the host for the Spirit of Vengeance and I cannot expect her to put my concerns above hers any longer.

Dakimh reached out with his mind, letting the magic pour through his soul. He felt the bonds stretching taut, then begin to break....

...and then, with an almost audible sound of snapping, the barriers that held the imprisoned sorcerers' souls in check broke free.

Dakimh resisted the urge to let out a shout of joy but he did smile openly and step back. He opened his eyes and saw the shimmering forms of Stephen Strange, Agatha Harkness and so many others... They glimmered briefly before winking out of existence, each moving on to the eternal reward that awaited them.

And then a figure swathed in blue and black emerged from the slowly receding rift in space.

For one brief, tenuous moment, Dakimh thought that Stephen Strange had somehow returned to life. The mistake was an easy one to make, for this figure did, indeed, wear a variation of Strange's normal attire. But unlike Strange, this figure hid his true features beneath a strange mask.

Dakimh felt a flutter of recognition, having heard of this being in the past. Cast off from a portion of Stephen's own soul, the enigmatic entity had come to call himself Paradox*... and when last he had been heard from, he had been in the company of Clea, ruler of the Dark Dimension. "Paradox! Were you trapped in the mists alongside the others?"

(*See the Author's Note for more on Paradox.)

The figure sounded cold and distant, surveying his surroundings in a manner that suggested that Dakimh was nothing more than an afterthought. "No... I have come in response to these terrible deaths. With Stephen no longer on Earth, there is a terrible void that must be filled. To honor his memory and avenge his death, there is only thing that I can do...."

Dakimh felt a sudden chill go through him. Surely this shade did not consider himself the true equal of Stephen Strange... and, if he did, what would that spell for the world at large? The mystic power of Paradox, with little humanity to guide it... "What are you speaking of? Tell me!"

Paradox flew upwards, his cloak billowing out around him. "To make sure that this world is safe forevermore... I must assume the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme!"

The man known as the Enchanter could only watch as Paradox disappeared out of sight, but he knew that dark days lay ahead. I will have to warn Jennifer... Though Paradox has the capacity for greatness within him, he is also on the razor's edge and could easily slip into madness. He will have to be watched. 

Closely.

Next Issue: We take a breather from all the recent epics and focus on our various subplots, including: Amber Greene makes a decision that could cost her a career; Jennifer learns that not all is well at the Ancient Tomes bookstore; Stacy Dolan begins the first day of her new life; and the being known as Paradox journeys to Paris on a quest to cement his right to the title of Sorcerer Supreme!

AUTHOR'S COMMENTS

Hope you enjoyed the wrap-up to this storyline. Now we've got a steady supporting cast built up around Jennifer and I plan to focus on them all in the next few issues. Look for the Stacy/Jennifer/Amber triangle to get some heavy play, as well -- though I'll try and avoid any lasciviousness in the portrayal. Jennifer's (and Amber's) sexuality is an important of who they are, but it's not their defining point. Love is love in my eyes, regardless of the genders involved -- and I hope to play with themes of fidelity, loss and renewal in this upcoming storyline. 

As for Paradox, he was originally called Strange when he first debuted during David Quinn's intriguing run on the Doctor Strange series in the early 1990s. A magical equivalent of a robot, Strange was created to function as an intermediary for Stephen Strange while the good doctor hatched a major scheme that required his absence from the mortal plane. Eventually, Stephen decided to destroy Strange, but the eldritch entity clung to life and Stephen finally relented -- sending Strange to the Dark Dimension where it could aid Clea and gain its own form of existence. At this time, Strange took the name Paradox and swore to become a hero and learn of humanity. During his stint in the Doc Strange series, Paradox was a dangerous, violent mage who lacked Stephen Strange's subtlety. Whether or not he's changed much since then is something we'll explore. One more thing: in Kurt Busiek's The Order limited series, he implied that Paradox had died in some sort of civil war raging in the Dark Dimension but that series exists outside our continuity, so I'm ignoring it, just as Kurt does with bits of 1990s continuity that he dislikes. Take that, Mr. Busiek! ;-)  

See all of you next issue,

Barry