Justice League of America - Batman: The Stone King (23 page)

The monster rose on one elbow, its other hand swinging the razor-sharp stone ax it held. Peter's sword arced again, and the weapon went careening from the shaman's hand.

This is too easy!

Peter almost laughed as a flood of elation surged through him. To think he'd crouched, cowering and quivering as he tried to conceal himself in his own mind, terrified of this entity! And now he had it at his mercy.

The flaming sword rose and fell, time and again, splashing gouts of blood in the air. But Peter gave no quarter, and continued to hack frenziedly at the shaman's body long after there was any need.

Batman was beginning to wonder if he was fighting some minor image version of himself.

Every attack he launched was effectively parried. Karate, kick-boxing, jujitsu–his opponent seemed to know them all, and defended itself accordingly.

A brutal chop was deflected by a scaly elbow. A stunning chest kick was stopped by a cross-wristed block. Even aikido–a martial arts system that uses the attacker's strength against him–proved of no value. Only the occasional blow landed home, and then more by luck than by judgment. When it did, the creature made no sound and gave no sign that it felt pain.

By the same token, Batman managed to repel the lizardlike humanoid every time it became the aggressor. Booted feet and gauntleted hands warded off a succession of blows flung at him from every conceivable angle. When one of the beast's blows struck home, Batman grunted and rolled with the impact.

The confrontation was more like a ballet than a battle.

Almost as if we're perfectly suited to each other,
Batman thought, failing to connect with a wild, swinging kick. He ducked under the inevitable counterattack, deflecting a punch with an upraised forearm. As
if whoever controls this creature is providing only so much energy, and no more. As if he's conserving his power for something else.

It could only be the Stone King.

Batman ducked a flurry of punches, slipping open a pouch in his Utility Belt. He had something here that ought to give him the edge. His hand closed around a vial inside the pouch. Scarecrow's special fear gas might turn the fight in his favor.

But as Batman prepared to lob the vial, his foe struck. Its tail lashed out like a whip, the spiked knob at the end ripping painfully into Batman's arm. The vial went flying from his numbed fingers, landing on a patch of grass growing between the stones.

The Dark Knight didn't waste time cursing his ill fortune. He aimed a series of rapid kicks at his misshapen opponent, using the time they bought him to slide his bola from its pouch. Holding it firmly by the center, where the three thongs met, he started it spinning with a flick of his wrist Each thong was tipped with a small lead weight, the weighted ends singing as they quickly whipped up speed.

Extending his hand with the whirling bola in front of him, Batman lunged at his foe.

The weights thudded into the side of the beast's scaly head, one after the other in quick succession, with enough power to knock out a horse. The lizardman fell back, momentarily stunned, and Batman tried to press home his advantage.

Again the three whirling balls powered into the creature's head. But this time, it didn't react. Instead, with greatly increased strength, it delivered a savage backhand blow that sent Batman smashing against the pyramid's rock face.

Looks like there's something in my theory,
he mused, wiping a trace of blood from the corner of his mouth.
It came back at me like a powerhouse when it needed to.

Using the pyramid wall as a springboard, Batman backflipped to evade another smashing blow. A clawed fist slammed into the stonework with an impact that sent fragments of granite flying. Batman's hand snapped to his Utility Belt, trying to decide whether it had really been such a good idea to test his theory, after all.

J'onn J'onzz was faring little better against the creature that had gone for him. When he flew, it flew. When he landed a blow with Martian superstrength, the beast reeled, but recovered to strike back immediately. Similarly, when its slashing claws struck him, his near-invulnerability shrugged off the attack.

As if it's only trying to delay me,
he thought.

The moon had come out from behind the clouds. The huge white disk cast an almost surreal light on the scene.

J'onn!
Manhunter heard Batman's telepathic call.

They'd been aware of each other during their individual fights, but only peripherally, with all their attention focused on their opponents.

Manhunter risked a glance along the course, and paid immediately for his indiscretion as the lizardman struck him in the thigh. But he'd had time to see Batman retreating before the other creature's maniacal onslaught, its daws raking, jaws slavering, spiked tail twitching as it sought an opening for the kill.

This one's power seems to be wavering,
Batman thought.
Might be a good time to switch dancing partners.
Batman used his wrist to block a chopping blow.
Now!

J'onn had also felt a slump in his own foe's power levels, as if whoever was controlling it had more pressing business to attend to. Immediately, J'onn used one of the unusual Martian powers that were his birthright. He thought hard, and the light waves striking him responded somehow to his conscious will, bending themselves around him. Turning him invisible.

It was a talent he could employ only for short periods. But it should be long enough.

J'onn soared a dozen feet into the air, turned on a dime, and sent himself crashing at speed into the lizardman Batman had been fighting.

The impact crushed the creature against the course's retaining wall, and the beast slumped like a sack of sand.

Batman had turned to run at Manhunter's foe, which hovered with uncertainty a few feet out from the side of the pyramid. A bat-line shot from the Dark Knight's hand, its grapple biting home around the lizardman's neck. Batman yanked hard on the line with both hands, pulling the surprised beast toward him.

As it loomed closer, it seemed to recover somewhat Its eyes glittered dangerously, and its maw opened to reveal jagged yellow teeth. Its drooling jaws opened wider–

And Batman tossed two percussion grenades down its throat.

The resulting explosion blew the creature apart.

Batman stood for a moment to recover his bream, and J'onn materialized beside him.

"I
believe you lost this." J'onn held out his hand. Nestling in his upturned palm was the vial of fear gas Batman had dropped.

"Thanks." Batman took the vial and slipped it back into his Utility Belt. "My guess is the Stone King was distracted," he went on thoughtfully. "He was trying to save his energy, presumably because it's needed elsewhere. But something took his mind off the job."

J'onn gestured upward with his head, his craggy eyebrows looking more like a carapace under the moon's light.

Two stories above them, plasmoid light was flickering from the burial chamber.

"That's where we'll get our answers," the Martian said grimly.

Finally, Peter's strength gave out.

Soaked in perspiration, panting with effort, he let the flaming sword slip from his fingers. His rage and terror had exhausted themselves, and he felt a curious detachment from any emotion. He could hardly believe it had been so simple.

This being, this shaman of unimaginable power, had crumpled like paper under Peter's frenzied attack.

I guess I've got my body back. I'm in charge again.

He looked down at the bloody, torn remains of his possessor, and a sudden chill froze him to the spot.

The eyes in its disembodied head blinked open, and fixed Peter with a look so malign it might have been Medusa, the Gorgon who turned men to stone with her malevolent glare.

Pain stabbed in Peter's temple. Something warm was trickling down the side of his face. Curiously, he touched it with his finger. Blood. His blood.

His temples were throbbing now, the tempo quickening. He felt faint. He tried to marshal his thoughts, but everything was turning red.

Peter's scream lasted only for an instant, then his mind exploded.

Jenny Ayles sent the old Nissan bombing over Canyon Bridge, with the raging waters of the Gotham River a hundred feet below.

When the road forked, she branched right, taking them through deep pine forest for several miles. There were no other vehicles around, no roadside lights marking the position of farms and houses.

Jenny felt strangely detached, the way she often did when she was traveling. She'd left her own problems behind her. Their destination, and the problems she had to face there, still lay in the future, where she didn't have to worry about them. Yet.

Beside her, Cassandra traveled in silence. More than once, the empath asked herself if she was doing the right thing. Each time, her answer was the same:
What alternative do I have?

A
mile before they reached the site of the dam itself, Jenny turned the car off the paved highway. The Nissan bounced down an old farm track, Cassandra's self-examination all but forgotten as she struggled to avoid injuring herself on the passenger seat's broken springs.

"I don't understand," Jenny exclaimed as they rounded a corner that brought them in plain view of the riverbank. "The pyramid . . . it's not there!"

"Perhaps we've come to the wrong location," Cassandra suggested. "You're upset. It would be an easy mistake to make."

Jenny slowed the car to a walking pace and wound down her window. Clouds covered the moon, but there was enough light for her to know she was right. After all, she'd worked here every day for weeks.

"There's no mistake," Jenny insisted. "Look– there's the stand of cottonwood trees growing out of the riverbank. The dam's less than a mile upstream. This is where we used to park the university SUV."

She stopped the Nissan and switched off the engine.

Jenny felt a chill of foreboding as she opened the car door and slid out. This place had already taken from her the man she loved . . . and Robert Mills, a man she didn't love. But if there was a chance of getting Peter back, no matter how slim, she was willing to take it.

"Perhaps we just can't make it out in the darkness," Jenny told Cassandra, as she too got out of the car. "I'm going to walk up the path we used."

Cassandra's mind was working overtime. If they couldn't find the pyramid, they couldn't confront the monster. Peter Glaston wouldn't be freed. And the world would end.

Long grass whipped their ankles and bushes tugged at their clothing as they sidestepped the police barrier and made their way along the narrow path of flattened vegetation.

Jenny kept looking around her, shaking her head. How could something so big simply disappear?

There was a sudden rippling of the air around them, and both women came to an abrupt halt.

The stepped pyramid rose in front of them, its dark bulk limned against the moon that was now rising behind it. About halfway up the steep sides, intermittent flashes of strange light were being emitted.

"But . . ." Jenny said feebly. "How?"

Cassandra shook her head, at a loss for words.

In silence, they made their way to the foot of the pyramid. Terrified of what might await them, Jenny clutched Cassandra's arm and kept her eyes fixed straight ahead.

Batman and the Martian Manhunter crept quietly along the wide ledge of the fifth course. Just ahead, several large rock slabs had been moved aside, revealing the entry to the hidden chamber.

Motioning Batman to fall back a little, J'onn moved toward the doorway. If they were met with violence, better for J'onn's near-invulnerable body to be in the vanguard. Manhunter edged closer, then leaned in to peek around the stone lintel.

Quickly, he beckoned Batman to join him.

Be ready for anything,
J'onn cautioned.
There's no telling what's going to happen in there.

Batman nodded his assent.

Inside the chamber, the Stone King was on his knees, his head lowered until it was almost touching the floor. His hands grasped his bull's skull headpiece, and his eyes were screwed shut, as if he was in terrible pain.

He didn't open his eyes as they approached, nor did he acknowledge their presence, as the two heroes silently entered the Stone King's domain.

He seems to be in some sort of distress,
Manhunter opined.
If his guard is down, this could be our optimum moment for attack.

Batman wrinkled his nose. The smell of stale blood and putrefying flesh was sickening. Quickly, he inserted a pair of nose plugs under his mask.

Beyond, he could see that the chamber's recess was filled with chaotically flickering light.

You may well be right,
Batman agreed.
But wait just one moment.

The Dark Knight pointed to the chamber floor. The rotting shreds of flesh that lay everywhere had attracted a significant amount of insect life. Beetles and maggots scurried from one scrap of meat to another. A chunky, black beetle's path took it directly toward the motionless Stone King.

About six inches from the Stone King, the beetle paused momentarily. Its antennae brushed the air, as if it sensed that something was not quite right. Then the insect jerked forward again, and was instantly disintegrated in a soundless blue flash.

He's protected himself with a force field.
J'onn groaned inwardly.
And short cf direct attack, we've no way of knowing how powerful it is.

Keep an eye on him,
Batman responded.
I'll find out what else is in here.

Noiselessly, the vigilante moved deeper into the rock-lined chamber, his every nerve alert, every muscle tensed for action. But what he saw made him expel his breath in a low, sibilant hiss.

Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, and the Flash were trapped there, imprisoned in the living stone. Only their hands and faces were visible; the rest of their bodies were buried in the dense rock.