The Pendragons # 7
Written by Barry Reese

"A Pause in the Storm"

What Has Come Before: Spitfire, Union Jack and Wynter journeyed to Birmingham, only to find that their quarry -- Kenneth Crichton, the new Baron Blood -- had already been murdered. Meanwhile, a trip to Otherworld meant big changes for the Pendragons, as the Black Knight and Sersi left the group for reasons unknown. In their place, the team has added the former Knight of Pendragon known as Grace and the newest Captain Britain, Betsy Braddock. After the group managed to repel an invasion of Lyonesse Island by the Hellfire Club, it was revealed that the mastermind behind England's recent problem is none other than Prime Minister Clive Winthrop....

10 Downing Street, London

"The Prime Minister is ready to see you now, Mr. Albion."

Peter Hunter, dressed in the mystic armor of Albion, stood looking out the windows of 10 Downing Street, the seat of the Prime Minister's power. Snow was falling in harsh flurries, following a week of hard rain. It was a strange time for Londoners, with Christmas looming in just three days, but a sense of dark times on the horizon.

And now, Albion, who had fought to preserve British liberty since the first World War, found himself on the precipice of a long, dark fall.

"Sir?" the aide prompted, making Albion finally acknowledged him.

Peter turned and nodded, drawing upon all the glamour of the Pendragon. It made him seem taller, more regal and he could see its immediate effect on the aide, who took on a self-depracating air. "I'm ready. Please lead the way."

The aide led him down a hall, lined with photographs of the British countryside. Interspersed amongst them were pictures of Prime Minister Winthrop with various world leaders. Albion studied a few of them as he passed, staring hard into the features of Winthrop, seeking any signs of the darkness he knew resided there.

Too soon for Peter, he was being led into the Prime Minister's office, where Winthrop sat behind a large desk, phone in hand. His voice sounded strong, but distracted, as he spoke to someone on the line. "Yes, yes. I see that... But it cannot be tolerated. Those packages are to be allowed into this country, United Nations be damned! The sanctions against Latveria don't concern me."

Albion watched with interested eyes as Winthrop slammed the phone down into its cradle. The Prime Minister looked furious and Albion saw a dark shadow about his form, similiar to that of the Bane. But this was different... and quickly masked. As soon as his mystic vision saw the darkness, it was pulled away from his gaze, as if Winthrop sensed it being observed.

Winthrop rose, offering his hand. As Albion accepted it, Winthrop said "Well... this is quite an honor. The legendary Albion. Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing towards an open chair. The aide scurried out quietly, shutting the door behind him. "What can I do for you? Is it about funding for the Pendragons?"

Albion hesitated for only a moment, feeling the comforting presence of Betsy Braddock in his mind. The team's telepath and newest member, she was the current heir to a proud legacy as Captain Britain. Now, she watched through Albion's eyes, relaying information to the rest of them team. "Lyonesse was recently attacked, Mr. Prime Minister. By members of a secretive organization known as the Hellfire Club."

Winthrop's eyes narrowed at that and a strange stench of brimstone touched Albion's nostrils. "Really? I thought they had been dispatched by Excalibur?"

"Obviously not."

"I see. Are they in custody now?"

"They're in our custody."

The Prime Minister tapped a finger on his desk, smiling. He was trying hard to be cool, to play with Albion's emotions the way he had with so many others. But this was a Knight of Pendragon before him, one used to dealing with masters of deceit. "Well, if you like, we can work together on creating a better security system for your base. Your group is one of Great Britain's greatest assets and--"

Albion held up a hand to stop him. "I'm here to warn you."

"Of what? Do you think I'm in danger?"

"Oh, yes." Albion rose, once again trying to enhance his own charisma. His eyes flashed with the emerald power of the Pendragon. "You're in quite a bit of danger, especially once we get through the mystical defenses placed around the minds of our prisoners. You see, we can't get to all of their thoughts at present... but we do know that they were allied with you. And that you're far more than you appear."

Winthrop stared at him, as if searching to see just how much Albion truly knew. At length, he replied "I'm afraid there must be some mistake. I would never have dealings with criminals."

Albion took a deep breath, hoping that Betsy was able to successfully shield his own thoughts from Winthrop. "Just watch yourself, Mr. Prime Minister. Because the Pendragons will be keeping a close eye on you."

He turned to go, but Winthrop's voice stopped him in his tracks. It sounded deep and rumbling, full of malevolence. "Don't threaten me, old man. I know the paths you've walked."

Albion ignored him, instead resuming his attempt to exit. Something shattered behind him as Winthrop swept his hands across his desk, sending items scattering to the floor. The smell of brimstone was stronger and Albion thought he heard the growl of a tiger at his heels... but no attack came, not even when Albion turned the doorknob and left.

Outside the building, he took to the air, flying higher and higher into the snowy clouds in an attempt to free himself of the oppression he felt in Winthrop's presence.

"Are you alright, Peter?"

Albion blinked in surprise as Betsy's voice echoed in his head. He'd momentarily forgotten her presence, but felt reassured to know she had been with him. "I'm fine. Tell the others I'm headed back to the island... We need to discuss this."

Back in his office, the demon masquerading as Clive Winthrop seethed. He slammed a fist down on the desk, shattering it into a hundred tiny shards of wood. In doing so, he also shattered the illusion around his true form. He was a dark, evil thing, with glowing red eyes and features totally hidden by ever-present shadow. They failed me! The damned fools failed me! he thought. And now my secret is known to Ghost Rider* and is suspected by the Pendragons, though they have named me not. The timetable must be moved up, if I am to succeed, at all.

(*Check Ghost Rider U.K. # 5 for the classic confrontation.)

And damned, arrogant Albion will be amongst the first to die.

And the demon known as Blackheart raged on.

Lyonesse Island, Home of the Pendragons

Kate McClellan watched her son Cam playing in the snow, hurling yet another snowball at the implacable Gawain. The robotic Pendragon had offered to keep Cam occupied while Kate finished wrapping the boy's presents and the two had been enjoying themselves immensely. "Cam really likes it here. He's enjoying his lessons from Peter -- overall, I think -- and he's come to have a nice relationship with Gawain. I think he feels responsible for him since he was the one who found Gawain on the beach*. And, of course, there's his relationship with you."

(*Back in issue 4.)

Behind her, the mage known only as Wynter waved his fingers in the air, magically tying a bow on one of Cam's packages. His long white hair was tied in a long ponytail hanging over his right shoulder and he wore a set of clothing bought for him during his shopping excursion a few weeks back. "He is a bright, capable child. It is a pleasure being in his company."

Kate turned, studying Wynter closely. They were both in Kate's bedroom, a pile of presents and packages lined up on top of her comforter. She had to make it back to the studio soon, to record a piece for the BBC's Christmas extravaganza, but she wanted to get this out in the open. It had been eating away at her for too long, making her feel like a nervous schoolgirl with a crush. "I'm glad to hear you say that. He thinks you're one of the nicest blokes he's ever met. So do I."

Wynter stopped in his motions and turned to face her. His serious, intelligent eyes locked onto hers and his words were low, almost a whisper. "Kate... I am not sure that--"

"Hey, it's okay," Kate said. She recognized the look in his eyes and felt her heart drop. She hated rejection. It made her feel an incredible amount of self-loathing and doubt. "I just meant as a friend." Smiling wanly, she looked away, staring out the window again. She silently cursed herself for having spoken out at all.

The magician crossed the room slowly, putting his hands on Kate's shoulders. He turned her to face him and for the first time in their relationship, she saw strong emotion in his eyes -- a mingling of bittersweet memory and longing. "Never, ever deny your feelings. I have fallen victim to that very thing in my long lifetime... and I have always ended up alone and full of regret. I think that you are a beautiful, strong woman who has suffered far too much... and I would think it a great honor to ease your pain, if only a little."

Kate blinked in surprise, saying nothing. She could smell him very well, his skin and his sweet, clean-scented hair. When he bent to kiss her, she met him halfway. Their mouths opened and their tongues came together in what could only be described as an earth-shattering moment.

When the kiss ended, the mage pulled back and stared at his fellow Pendragon with a look of wry amusment in his eyes. "Do you feel better?"

"Much. And if snogging with you keeps being like that... I might have to clear my schedule in the future."

An Hour Later

The entire roster of the Pendragons, including their young guest, Cam, gathered in one of the large sitting rooms, a crackling fire providing warmth to those who needed it. Peter stood in the front, still in his Albion persona, but the rest of the team were seated on the floor or on one of the two couches in the room. Aside from Albion, none of the others were in costume.

Betsy, looking ravishing in a turtleneck sweater and sprayed-on leather pants, sipped her tea and sighed. "His mind felt like a steel trap. Literally. I was afraid that if I spent too much time in it, I could become caged inside there."

"I knew we were in trouble when Blair was voted out," Joey mumbled. He caught a playful glare from Jackie, who was still nurturing a good deal of hurt over the death of her son.

"Political affiliations aside, this is a serious problem." Albion leaned against the fireplace, looking thoughtful. "Winthrop has a good deal of mystic energy surrounding him. When the time comes, we'll have to be careful about moving against him."

"You really think it'll come to that?" Kate asked. She had her arms resting around her son's neck, as he sat on the floor between her knees. "I mean... even if he is a criminal, he's the bloody Prime Minister! We can't treat him like a villain of the week."

"But that's what he is," Grace replied. "Look, the Hellfire Club are killers, every one of them. And they work for him! And don't forget the rise in magic all over Great Britain -- that's tied to him, too. The best thing we could do is hit him hard and fast... the British people deserve nothing less! Having a monster like him in office is an offense to all of us!"

"I'm with her," Joey said. "Don't bother looking for more evidence against him. That only gives him more time to prepare."

Albion glanced around the room. "Are you all in agreement, then? That we should prepare a strike?"

"I'm not!" Kate answered. "People... Let's look at this the way it's going to play out in the press, shall we?"

"Figures you'd play the press card...."

"Damn it, Joey! We have to consider it!"

"Kate's right. We should look at all angles before we act." Albion motioned for her to continue.

"Well... a lot of people aren't going to grasp the fact that he's some dark sorceror -- unless we have proof. All they're going to see is a bunch of spandex types attacking the chief of state. We could be crucified on the telly and in the tabloids."

"Are we concerned with how we are viewed... or with what is known to be right and true?" Gawain inquired.

"Both," Kate said. "Look... I agree, we should deal with him as quickly as possible. But let's find out what we're dealing with first. Otherwise, we're gonna look like a bunch of fascists taking down a politician we don't like."

"I agree with Kate." Jackie said, ignoring the look of annoyance on Joey's face. "We have to be cautious."

"Very well. I think it's best that we continue to interrogate the Hellfire Club members and bide our time for a bit. Make our move after Christmas, perhaps." Albion smiled, trying to lift himself out of the doldrums brought on by talk of Winthrop. "In happier news, some of us have relatives and such that they need to visit on the holidays, so we'll be having a little get-together this evening. Gifts will be exchanged, but they are hardly mandatory. See you all at six-ish."

As the group began to filter out, Betsy made a bee-line straight to Jackie. "You want to join me in a bit of shopping? I picked up some spare clothes at Braddock Manor, but they're at least three years out of date!"

Jackie smiled, knowing full well that Betsy was hoping that the shopping trip would help lift her spirits. The entire group had been very supportive since the Birmingham trip, but being without Kenneth during the holidays was going to be harsh. "I would love to, Betsy. Can Joey come along?"

Betsy glanced over at him and nodded. "Of course."

Joey forced a sheepish grin. "Actually, I have other plans...."

Before Jackie could question him, she heard Romany Wisdom's voice say "You most assuredly do, Mr. Chapman." The somewhat bookish woman stepped past Jackie, kissing Joey on the cheek. For his part, Joey murmured a hello to her and steadfastly refused to look at Jackie. Romany nodded once at Betsy and Jackie, both of whom were keeping neutral expressions. "How are you, Ms. Crichton? I'm terribly sorry to hear about Kenneth."

Jackie swallowed, setting her jaw. She and Joey had growin increasingly close as of late and had even shared a brief kiss recently. And now, here he was, with Romany Wisdom, his old flame, hanging off his arm... "Thank you. May I ask what you and Joey have planned for the afternoon?"

"He's having lunch with my brother Peter and I."

"Sounds like a jolly good time," Jackie said, with an icy tone. She turned to Betsy, who didn't need telepathy to sense the tension in the room. "Let's go, Betsy. We'll do a bit of shopping -- and maybe even meet a nice lad or two." She cast a burning smile at Joey. "Enjoy yourself, Mr.Chapman."

10 Downing Street

"You have it?"

"Yes, m'lord." The cloaked figure who knelt before Clive Winthrop rose, being careful to keep his eyes lowered.

Blackheart grunted. "Then, by all means.... Let me see it."

The Gilded Man, faithful servant of Blackheart, reached into his robes and withdrew a small stone statuette depicting a flame-headed figure standing in a battle-ready pose. Famed for his ability to locate almost any mystical prize, the Gilded Man had been essential to Blackheart's rise to power in the identity of Clive Winthrop. It had been he who had helped bring down Alec Drake, transforming him into the Ebony Knight*, and it was he who now brought forth the one thing that could salvage his master's crumbling plans.

(*Waaaaaay back in Black Knight: Destiny Walk # 0!)

Blackheart took the figure in his eyes, turning it this way and that. "How amusing that one who was so tormented by my own accursed father be revived to serve me now."

"It is fitting, m'lord. All will serve you once the prophecy has been fulfilled."

Blackheart smiled, enjoying the groveling of his servant. "It will require a tremendous power source to revive the Soul-Eater. But I believe I know where I can find suitable sacrifices." He rose into the air, hovering a few feet off the floor. The Gilded Man backed away as a powerful stench began to fill the room.

Blackheart raised his hands open wide, still grasping the small statue. "Bound spirits, held at bay! Fulfill this one last task -- give rise to the being who can complete the prophecy!"

Somewhere, on a plane hidden from mortal man, men and women of great power screamed in terrible agony as their lives were snuffed out. Their families would never know the full truth, the full horror... and perhaps that was for the best*."

(*But if you'd like to know the full truth, check out Ghost Rider U.K. # 6!)

Blackheart threw the small figurine forward, watching as it held itself in mid-air, shaking and glowing. With a flash of eldritch energy, it was transformed.... ...and in its place now stood a figure some six-and-a-half feet in height, with flickering blue flame about its scarlet-skulled head. The being gazed up at Blackheart, a low rumbling echoing forth from its throat. "You have the smell of Mephisto about you. Are you the one who has dared summon forth ZARATHOS*?" (*Trapped in stone form ever since his last appearance in the Ghost Rider (vol. 2) series) Blackheart moved forward, his eyes glowing brighter. "I am the son of he who bound you. I now seek dominion for myself, in a realm of my own. As of late, my allies have failed me... but now I seek to make a new alliance, with one who is my equal. If you offer me your power to bridge the dimensions, I shall offer you souls aplenty." Zarathos, the being who had been mystically bound to John Blaze as the original Ghost Rider for so many years before remembering his true self, considered only a moment. The souls that had reawakened him had left him pulsating with new power. "Tell me more," he whispered.

Lyonesse Island, Grace's Bedroom

"I missed you so much, Peter." Grace snuggled up against Peter Hunter's body, enjoying the warm feel of both him and the sheets. "Otherworld is so ungodly beautiful, but the whole time I was there, I thought of you." She kissed the interior of his arm, nuzzling him.

Peter smiled, not the least bit self-conscious about the salt-and-pepper- hair on his chest or on his head. Grace had a way of making him feel more at ease in his own form than even as Albion. "I thought you were dead."

Grace propped herself up on one arm and looked at him. "I'm sorry for that. I would have contacted you, if I could. It was so horrible not being able to help all of you during the Avalon War."

A resounding knock on the door brought the two lovers out of their reverie. Peter slid out from under the sheets, laughing as Grace leaned forward to smack him on the buttock. He pulled on a robe and pulled the door slightly to, hiding the interior of the room with his own body. "Yes?"

Gawain stood there, looking suitably embarrassed for having interrupted. "Pardon my actions, fellow Knight! But I have been sent to fetch you and your lady, as one of the prisoners has elected to loosen their tongue."

Peter couldn't hide his surprise. "Really? And what changed their mind?"

"I believe that, in the words of young Cam, they are 'ready to cut a deal.'"

The dungeon area of Pendragon Castle was exactly that -- a dungeon. It was dank, with the odor of rotting vegetation, and barely lit, with only a few magically-charged torches flickering on the walls. When the team had first claimed Lyonesse as their own, there had been some discussion about modernizing the dungeon area and its holding cells, but in the end, Union Jack had won out -- this place was designed to be unnerving and it worked. Of all the places on Lyonesse, there were a handful that could fit that description -- and, Joey had argued, our prison ought to be one of them.

Albion, Grace and Gawain, all now dressed as Pendragons, came to stand before the cell containing the Red King of the Hellfire Club. In many ways, the least was known about him, though Betsy had sensed a strong loyalty to Margali, the Red Queen. The King was on the floor, chained to the wall behind him. A full bucket of water and a bit of bread lay on the stone floor beside him.

Grace spoke first, letting the flickering lights gleam off her arm-blades. "We understand that you're ready to go home?"

The Red King smiled softly, shaking his head. "No. I don't want to go home. What I want is a promise that you'll get me out of Britain -- maybe out of Europe entirely. Send me to the Americas. If you can promise that, I'll tell you everything you need to know."

Albion remained behind Grace, saying nothing. But the Red King's sudden desire to flee the nation didn't bode well for the future.

Grace paused a moment, seeming to consider the Red King's words. She glanced over at Gawain, who stared steadfastly ahead, glaring at the Red King. "I promise you this... If the information you give us is useful and verifiable, we will do what we can to help you. That's the best I can do."

With a sigh, the Red King nodded. "That's the best I can expect, I suppose."

"Then please, pray tell, what is your secret?" Gawain prompted.

"Clive Winthrop is more than he appears. He is an ancient demon from the abyss, the son of Mephisto. Called Blackheart by some, he has come to England in answer to a prophecy found in ancient writing called The Book of the Black Mass. It reads 'From the Nether-Realms a dark lord returns, sealing away all glory and light. The blackest of hearts shall rule the land of Olde Kings and the most powerful of mages shall be struck down, his blood staining the floor of his Olde home. What shall come is most terrible and bleak, a world where the mystic arts flourish and mankind is assaulted by enemies of all types.' It is this that he hopes to bring about."

"How does he hope to do this?" Albion asked, moving closer.

"He has crafted a powerful spell, centered on four distinct places of great power within the British Isles: Stonehenge, located on the Salisbury Plain; St. Mary's Church in Barfeston, Kent; Dun-shi Hill, located near Aberfoyle graveyard on the shore of Loch Ard, Scotland; and the Doubler Stones in Addingham, West Yorkshire*. Blackheart plans to tap into those areas and drain the eldritch energy stored in each... the spell that results will drain the souls of thousands and allow him to erect a barrier about the British Isles. Air, sunlight and small particles and wavelengths may pass through, but no solid matter larger than a bread crumb. Within the barrier, magic will run free and wild, returning England to its historical roots as a land of Fairie. And Blackheart, having dispatched the world's most powerful mages, will rule within for a thousand years."

(*For uninitiated, Stonehenge is one of the most famous standing rock areas in the world, St. Mary's Church in Barfeston has some of the most detailed occult carvings in existence, found above its doorway entrance; Dun-shi Hill is famous as a Fairy Hill; and the Doubler Stones have a number of prehistoric cuts in the top of the rocks, believed to be used for collecting blood from sacrifices -- the Doubler Stones also rest on a ley line.)

The Pendragons remained quiet for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Albion could see the color drain from Grace's face and even the robotic Gawain seemed pensive. "Is there any way to disrupt this spell?"

The Red King looked thoughtful. "He was going to use the Ebony Knight and his soul-sucking Ebony Blade to help balance the spell. But you have Drake and his sword in custody... He will need something or someone else with the ability to store vast numbers of souls in order to complete the spell." He looked up at Albion. "And, of course, you could always have one of those vast, cosmic battles you heroes are so good at and cast Blackheart back into Hell!"

"We may be too late," Wynter said. He stepped out of the shadows, looking grave. "I sense a tremendous rise in magic. I believe that Winthrop may be moving to strike soon. Perhaps as early as Christmas day."

Albion shook his head wearily. "May Avalon preserve us."

In Pendragons # 8: "Isles of Magick" begins! With Zarathos and Blackheart on the prowl, it's going to take the combined might of the Pendragons, Ghost Rider U.K. and John Blaze to put a stop to their plans. But can anything truly stop the Black Mass prophecy? Be here as the biggest event in the history of the Pendragons Universe begins!

But before you jump into Isles of Magick, check Ghost Rider U.K. # 6, where you'll see the full horror regarding the resurrection of Zarathos, in another prelude to our big crossover!

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Next month, at long last, kicks off the event that's been building ever since Black Knight # 0, in which the Gilded Man recruited Alec Drake to be the Ebony Knight. Once the event is over, the tight ties between this series and Ghost Rider U.K. will be loosened, allowing each to go along its own path -- so if you don't like seeing Zarathos in your Pendragons stories, don't worry.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the current epic goings-on.

You can reach me at aric_dacia@yahoo.com

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