Pendragon Comics - The Pendragons 31

The Pendragons

Issue # 31

Brought together in defense of Avalon and the British Isles, the Pendragons are the officially-sanctioned heroes of Great Britain. Originally led by the Black Knight, the group is composed of the remnants of the old Knights of Pendragon group, as well as several other heroes. Willing to die for their beliefs, the Pendragons stand united as England's best defense against threats of a superhuman nature.

Special "Silver Anniversary" Pendragons logo created by Kell Carpenter, inspired by the logo created by Des Davies!

Written by Barry Reese

What Has Come Before: The political situation in Europe has darkened once more, as Death's Head II failed in an attempt to unseat Victor Von Doom from power in Latveria. His actions brought Latveria to the attention of Citizen V and the Penance Council, who are still working in secret concert with the Pendragon known as Albion. Meanwhile, Shevaun Haldane -- aka Dark Angel -- has discovered that an ancient magic is building in London. This magic has been identified as belonging to Gaea, who was recently given new champions in the forms of Jennifer Kale, Topaz and Satana. Before Dark Angel could further her investigations, however, a being claiming to be her deceased father revealed himself. This being, wearing the name and face of Ranulph Haldane, seized control of his daughter and has stolen her powers....

Gulliver Jones sipped his tea and stared out the dining room window. The waves were especially choppy today and the sea serpents who called the island's environs home were agitated as a result. Their long, serpentine heads continually broke through the surf, their slitted eyes scanning the horizon for some nameless thing.

Gully sympathized. He'd been scanning the horizon for something unnamable for years, as well.

Gully smiled softly, not needing to look behind him to know who the soft, lilting tones belonged to. Jacqueline Falsworth Crichton... She'd been lovely years and years ago and, thanks to a transfusion of artificial blood from their mutual friend, the original Human Torch, she now looked as fresh as she had back in the 1940s when they'd first met. "You never need to ask that, Jackie. You're always welcome."

Jacqueline, dressed in the scarlet and gold uniform she'd made famous as Spitfire, moved up beside him. She was still a bit uncomfortable around Gully, for their relationship of several decades past stood between them. "You're always a dear, Gully. I wanted to let you know that a few of us are headed out to Darkmoor Castle. PLATO says there's a huge probability spike around Shevaun's home and Dark Angel's not answering any of our calls."

Gully grunted and sipped his tea again. "Probability spikes... Bloody hell. That damned computer makes my head hurt. What happened to the days of using actual human-gained intelligence?"

"Different age, luv. But I sympathize... I may look like a young woman, but inside I'm still the same bird you knew from sixty years ago." She looked into Gully's eyes. "Are you well?"

The bluntness of the question surprised him and for a moment, white-hot anger rose in his belly. He'd confided to Union Jack that he was dying, but he'd hoped the young man could be counted upon not to speak out of turn... But Jackie's his lover, Gully mused. It's foolish to think he wouldn't share this with her. "I'm doing as well as possible for a man my age," he lied, hoping that his suspicions were false. He wasn't ready to deal with his own mortality just yet -- not anymore than he had to.

"You just seem so gaunt." She reached out and grasped his hand in her own. The gesture touched him but it also brought pain to him. Her skin was so smooth, so flawless... and his own was leathery and spotted by age. "Don't hesitate to turn to me if you need help."

"I won't," he said, gripping her fingers tightly. Looking away, he tried to keep a tremor from his voice as he said "I hope you weren't going to ask me to join your group in going to Darkmoor. I'm going to be away on my own for a day or two. Going over to Kent to see my daughter."

"She was a saint. Too good for me, really. But I have to admit I never really had my heart in the marriage -- I always thought of the one that got away and never really focused on the woman I was with. That carried over to my daughter, I'm afraid. And her children."

Jackie shivered as a cold wind suddenly blew in from the coast. There was a strong feeling of melancholy surrounding Gully and she knew that he was far from telling the truth about his health. Joey had not spoken to her about the conversation the two men had shared, but she'd buried enough loved ones to sense death when it was near. "I... I really have to go," she whispered, pulling her hand away. "I'm flattered that you never forgot our time together, but I'm also sad that you let it torment you so. Maybe it's not too late to repair your relationship with Barbara."

Gully nodded once, forcing a smile that appeared hollow even in the dim light. "I hope you're right. The bond between a father and a daughter is a special one, isn't it?"

Jackie remembered her own father, who always held a stiff upper lip even in the face of terrible danger. He had taught her how to be a hero; how to behave as befitted their family's station in life; he had taught her how to love and be loved. Smiling wistfully, she replied "Yes, it is. I can't imagine anything being sweeter..."

Shevaun Haldane hung limply in her bonds, her nude skin smoking and torn. She had an attractive, athletic frame but there was nothing erotic about her as she hung suspended in the air, streaks of blood dripping from numerous cuts and scrapes. Tiny electrodes connected to the sides of her head and breasts had just finished sending electricity through her, which had caused her to spasm and shake in some horrible parody of dance. She found her tongue despite the pain, whispering in a dry, hoarse voice "I can't believe I actually fought to free your soul from Hell...."

Ranulph turned away from the large workdesk which rested in the corner of the laboratory. He wore Shevaun's costume, composed of a tiny piece of the fabric of the universe. It had been a gift of sorts from a celestial being -- a gift that was being perverted by the man who now wore it. Ranulph's handsome face was split by a leer as he regarded his daughter. "I'm glad to see that you're finally accepting the truth, Shevaun. Arguing pointlessly over my identity was becoming quite tiresome." He rose, moving over to a small stone that he'd set below his daughter. It was glowing fiercely now, its surface radiating dark magical energies. "You're a quite potent source of power, aren't you? Even without the fabric coating you, you've still retained a remarkable amount of celestial energy. A pity that removing the energy from you is so amazingly painful, isn't it? You were the only one of my children that I let grow to full maturity, you know... Most of them were either failures mentally or physically, as your poor brother was. But you... You, Shevaun, were a work of art. I'm proud to say that you sprang forth from my seed." Ranulph looked up at his daughter and Shevaun could not suppress a shiver. In the depths of his eyes lurked only madness. "Mys-Tech stood for centuries, but you destroyed them. My soul was locked away in the clutches of Mephisto, but you freed me." Ranulph shook his head in amazement. "Even after all the lies I told you. After all the evil I perpetrated on the spirits of our family. You saved me."

"You were my father," Shevaun quietly replied. The words didn't do justice to the depths of her feelings for this man, but in the end, they were the truth. She had fought so valiantly to free her father's spirit not because she respected him, but because he was, despite it all, the man who had raised her. "I loved you."

Ranulph's expression seemed to alter slightly, as if her words had cooled the fires that raged within him. For the briefest of moments, he actually looked apologetic. "In my way, I loved you as well. I certainly taught you far more than I should have."

"You didn't teach me nearly enough," Shevaun spat out angrily. The pain was beginning to recede now and she raced to remember the spells he'd taught her, ones that could turn the tables on the situation. "I never would have studied your sciences or your spellbooks if I'd known what you really wanted... If I'd known all the blood that had been on your hands!"

"You make my goals sound obscene," Ranulph countered. He'd regained his arrogance now and he turned away from his daughter, grasping the still glowing stone in his right hand. "I sought immortality. It's been the holy grail for many more researchers than just I. And you grew strong and powerful under my tutelage, so don't dare make it sound as if you didn't profit as well!"

Shevaun said nothing, though she managed to bend her fingers into a series of complex positions. With a single word flaring in her mind, she tried to summon a spell to free her. Instead, she felt the sudden shock of excruciating pain. Unlike her father's previous assaults, this one was not physical -- this one struck straight at her core, her very soul. Her screams echoed in the chambers around her, reverberating until they reached a fever pitch.

Ranulph took a deep breath and yelled back to her, "I hope you'll stop struggling, my dear. I've carefully arranged to have all your magics cast back at you -- and the remaining dregs of cosmic power you still possess are being taken away even as I speak. So it's really quite hopeless. Best just to conserve your strength and make the best of it."

Ranulph closed his eyes and smiled. His work was nearly completed and he held the device upon which he'd been working lovingly in his hands. He turned to face his daughter, holding a circular piece of machinery in one hand and the stone containing her extracted essence in the other. He fit the stone neatly into the center of the machine and it began to hum to life. "The fabric of the universe that you wear... You know that it functions as a gateway to other places and worlds?"

Shevaun nodded weakly, remembering her own trips into the fabric's self-contained universes.

"When my soul was released from bondage, it did not move on to the afterlife. It was sucked into another realm. A realm in which I met a being who offered me great power in exchange for helping him return to this reality. He gave me physical form... and I gave him hope. With your stolen power to augment this device," Ranulph held up the humming machine, "I will bring forth my lord and master. And then I will fulfill every father's dream...."

"Why, to see my little girl get married of course. You will be my master's bride and bear him many children."

The enigmatic being known as the Caretaker ignored the falling raindrops, continuing to sink the point of his shovel into the yielding earth. With each upward motion, he swept away more of the black earth. He continued his work, occasionally pausing to spit into the rain. He had a large plug of tobacco wedged in his cheek, the pungent flavor making him pucker his lips.

He didn't mind the hard work -- in his several millennia of existence, he had worked far harder than this. The strain on his muscles felt good, made him feel alive. For someone whose every move seemed to be haunted by death, such a feeling was far too precious to squander.

His shovel at last struck home, its point scraping against something hard. The Caretaker tossed the shovel away and began to dig with his hands, using all his great strength to speed along his task. In only a few moments he had found his prize -- the skeletal remains of a man draped in a leather jacket and jeans.

Before he could reach down to draw the remains forth, a blast of magical energy shattered the earth beside him. The Caretaker blinked in surprise, turning to look at the source of the attack. It was a tall, thin blonde girl, with flowing hair that fell past her shoulders. Her clothing, though casual, seemed to sway and move to some mysterious rhythm, dancing across her firm skin like a lover's caress. "Jennifer. What are you doing here?" the older man asked, his voice sounding hard and distant.

Jennifer Kale, follower of both the Atlantean and Earth-based schools of magic, smiled coldly. "I could ask you the same thing."

Jennifer chewed her lip. "Don't give me that guilt trip again. I didn't know that choosing Gaea would mean I'd lose control of the Ghost Rider*."

"Fate leads us all in strange directions, Jennifer. No blame needs be assigned." The Caretaker reached down and pulled the skeleton forth, propping it on the ground beside him.

Jennifer stared mutely, feeling her skin crawl. "How can that even be here? Noble can't exist without a physical form, can he? I mean, when he was cast out from me, he went back into the Void...."

"This," he answered, tapping the side of the skull, "Isn't Noble's true body. It's just the form his essence takes for us. All I did was locate the source of his being in the cemetery and bring it forth."

Jennifer and the Caretaker both looked skyward, where a strangely-garbed figure hovered above. He wore a set of clothes that resembled those once belonging to Stephen Strange, but his face was hidden from view and his voice was at once both familiar and unknown.

Jennifer stepped forward, feeling no fear of this stranger. She had faced Blackheart himself, standing at the apex of his power. No mortal sorcerer would weaken her resolve. "And who do you think you are?"

"No, you're not. He's dead," she said, her voice drawn tight with anger. Strange's death -- and all those other wizards who had died -- was partially Jennifer's fault*.

Strange remained silent for a moment before raising a hand. The skeletal remains of the Ghost Rider rose up into the air, finally stopping next to the magician. "You will have to trust me, Ms. Kale. There is no alternative."

Jennifer watched as both Strange and Ghost Rider vanished, her hands clenching into fists. "You better have one hell of an explanation for this, Caretaker... Are you listening to me?" she asked, whirling about.

Union Jack felt like he was trapped in some grade-B horror film. The dark, forbidding castle that dominated the area, enshrouded by fog while a full moon hung overhead... It was hardly a situation into which he wanted to go. He checked, once again, that his dagger and pistol were in place at his side and he couldn't help but wish he still possessed the alien symbiote that had briefly enhanced his strength....

"You okay, Joey?" Adam Crown asked, the sword Excalibur gripped tightly in his right hand. The handsome young man who bore the eternal spirit of Arthur within him was obviously feeling the same sense of foreboding as his teammate, for beads of sweat could be seen along his hairline.

Union Jack looked up at the stone face of the castle and nodded once. "Couldn't be better. You?"

"Same," Adam replied. He suppressed a sigh of relief as Albion and Spitfire returned, having scouted the area by land and by air. "Any sign of Shevaun?"

Albion replied, his voice sounding far older than it should. Though a young man, Cam McClellan had been weathered by many traumatic events -- the most recent of which, the death of his mentor and friend Peter Hunter, had left him as the successor to a heroic legacy. "No... I even flew in through one of the upper windows and found no one about. But I'm sensing a tremendous amount of evil energy in the air. Perhaps one of Shevaun's experiments went awry?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," Union Jack replied. "She's always mucking about with things that should be left alone. I've faced more than my share of vampires, werewolves and other things that go bump in the night... Why she'd willingly seek them out is beyond me."

"Be that as it may," Spitfire murmured, "She's our teammate and our friend. I wanted to avoid snooping in her home if possible but since Cam's already taken a peek in her home, I don't see why we shouldn't do the same. Anyone here know where her lab is kept?"

"Basement level," Cam replied. "There's an exterior entrance 'round back. I saw it when I was up in the air."

"That's where we're headed, then." Spitfire started to rocket away, but paused when Joey put a firm hand on her shoulder.

Spitfire smiled and leaned forward to kiss her lover on the cheek. She knew what he really meant -- that she had a tendency to go off by herself and that he was worried about her. The gesture touched her and she thought again that maybe the two of them should consider making their relationship a bit more 'official' -- especially with her grandson being raised by them now. There you go again, she cautioned herself. Acting true to form and racing away. Give Joey time -- he's a young man and you don't want to scare him off with talk of marriage. "I'll stay as close to you as possible, Joey. I promise."

Together, the four Pendragons moved around the base of the castle until Albion brought them to a stop before an oaken door. A protective sigil glowed softly on its surface but it faded when Albion removed his glove and placed a hand above it. "It recognizes the power of the Green," he said. A soft smile touched his lips. "It feels good to know you've got all of Avalon on your side, doesn't it?"

"That it does," Adam whispered, peering into the darkness as the door swung open. A stench of burnt flesh and chemical antiseptics reached his nose, making him wrinkle it in disgust. "Smells like a sewer in there."

Albion raised his right hand, summoning a mystic light that illuminated a set of stairs. "Let me go first -- I'm armored and I can light the way."

"Sounds like a fair deal," Union Jack said. "I'll take the rear and make sure nothing follows us down."

Down the winding stairway they went, feeling themselves sliding deeper into a murky gloom that not only made visibility difficult but also seemed to weigh down their very spirits.

"There's something here that seems familiar," Adam whispered, the hair beginning to rise on the nape of his neck. "Can you sense it?"

Cam halted at the foot of the stairs, staring down into the laboratory. Shevaun hung there, looking still and cold, while a mechanical device pulsed and hummed in the air before her. A widening rift was growing from the center of the machine, revealing another place and world on the other side -- one of red flesh and gaping wounds. "God and country," he whispered. "I never thought I'd feel this again...."

"What are you talking about?" Jackie demanded, staring at her three male companions. Each of them looked stricken by some blinding discomfort and Joey drew his blade in response.

"I can answer that, I think." Ranulph Haldane, cloaked in Dark Angel's costume, stepped forward. He leered at the four Pendragons, barely restraining his laughter. "For your companions are about to once more gaze upon the visage of their true lord and master."

Spitfire heard Joey curse under his breath as a figure began to emerge from the rift. She felt as if she should rush forward to halt his progress but she found her feet would not move. In the primitive reptilian part of her brain she felt a mad desire to flee, as mankind's ancient nemesis rose up before her.

Albion shrank back from the figure, his heart growing cold as ice. He felt no fear, only horrible disappointment. He had failed. He had betrayed his friends for naught -- the second Black Mass Prophecy had come to pass:

In the midst of the darkness shall come sorrow and woe. A warrior of green shall die most horrible and the ancient evil shall ascend once more. The child cloaked in the raiment of his teacher will wither and change, his heart becoming one of ice and stone. The Black Mass will rise in pitch until the coming of the Red Lord and all life shall meet its Bane...

Next Issue: "Heathen Chemistry" continues as The Red Lord and the Bane spread across Darkmoor. Can Shevaun manage to reclaim her own power and turn the tide of rising evil? Or is the second Black Mass Prophecy doomed to come to pass? Plus: the new Doctor Strange and Ghost Rider claim yet another ally in their mysterious cause and Rathoon comes face-to-face with Fin Fang Foom!

Hope you enjoyed the first part of our new storyline, which will eventually resolve several dangling subplots (including, but not limited to: the Emissaries of Darkness; the second Black Mass Prophecy and Cam's betrayal of the team). After this tale is through, look for us to head full-tilt towards issue 36, where we just might have to order up some extra servings of rice and wedding cake....