Fic: Splintered, Part 6 (1 of 2)
Part Six: The Purple-Haired Piper of the Wynn
Thanks to DC Lady, HeyBats, and Djinn for reviewing and commenting. Part 5.3
Bruce proceeded mechanically from form to form, barely conscious of his movements. He wished Diana were there to spar with him; her presence would force him to concentrate all of his energy on his martial arts - that is, if he wanted to avoid landing on the tatami. As it was, the forms were a welcome distraction, but they didn’t purge his thoughts entirely.
Diana was gone. Once she had regained her composure, she had risen from the floor. Without a word, she had methodically coiled her lasso, staring into the recesses of the Cave as she performed the task. When she had finished, her countenance had subtly shifted. With a determined look on her face, she had said she was going to consult Callina, the Amazons' chief historian, about the Tears of Aphrodite.
They had climbed the stairs to the main floor in silence. And after an awkward farewell, Diana had soared away, silhouetted against the stars. She hadn't looked back.
A crackling in his ear interrupted his execution of Cat Hunting Bird. He hadn't expected Diana to contact him so soon, yet he felt strangely deflated upon hearing Zatanna's voice.
"She's not here."
Bruce's eyebrows shot up. "Circe's not in Aeaea? Then where is she?"
"No one knows. I've questioned at least half the villagers. Couldn't detect a geis of silence, so either she's wiped their memories, or they truly don't know." She paused, and Bruce could imagine her pursing her lips in annoyance. "Diana's lasso would've been useful. Where is she, anyway?"
"Went back to Themyscira."
"She's gone home?" Zatanna tsked. "What did you say to her?"
He swallowed.
She laughed. "Fine. I get it. None of my business. Is she coming back anytime soon?"
"Depends on what she finds out from Callina regarding the Tears of Aphrodite."
"Fanciful title. What is it?"
"The alabaster flask Catwoman stole. Diana thinks it contains Aphrodite's actual tears."
"Um, Batman, that's impossible. Gods can't -"
"Not according to Amazon legend." And he explained.
Zatanna gave a long, expressive, girlish whistle.
She hasn't changed all that much, really. Irrepressible as ever.
"If what you're saying is true, the magical power of that - I guess potion is still the correct technical term - must be nearly infinite."
"You sound like Diana," Bruce commented.
"If by that you mean worried, then yes. No, I take that back. I'm terrified! Batman, if this is true, you're talking about the concentrated essence of a top-tier deity! Most potions just access the theonic penumbra of these deities. This is the real thing; the fact that it comes as the result of great stress likely magnifies its power."
"Then I don't get it. Why would Circe let Catwoman have such a thing?"
"I don't know, Bruce."
She must really be distraught to forget my codename like this. Bruce suddenly realizing he was sweating. "I mean, this sounds like the kind of thing that Circe would love to have - um, no pun intended."
Zatanna didn't answer immediately. After a few minutes of silence, the comm crackled. "Br- Batman. How much does Catwoman know about magic?"
"More than some. Less than you."
"Hmmm. The only thing I can think of is that Circe is using her to get at you. Or to do something that involves you. Catwoman - would you say she's in love with you?"
"Maybe," He sighed. “Yes, probably. It’s complicated.”
"Complicated?” She replied with a grin. “You? Really? So - Catwoman affects you with the potion-"
"Affects?"
"Sorry. Jargon. She exposes you - like a contagion. You basically lose your will in regard to anything she says. Then all Circe has to do -" Zatanna' agitation was building as she spoke "- all she has to do is to place Catwoman under any of a number of command spells. Circe orders Catwoman; Catwoman orders you. That means Circe orders you. Transitive property. Magic, science… mathematics rules the cosmos, Batman."
"Can you counter it?"
"Sure - if I were a goddess!Which, despite my attitude, I'm not."
Silence.
Zatanna continued, "But I can try. Maybe I can find a way to deflect - to fool the effect…? Well, if it works as I expect, it'll require physical contact. So the most obvious thing to do is to get some physical barrier between you and the potion. Add a face shield to your getup. And make sure everything on you is waterproof. If the potion touches your skin, the effect will be instantaneous… wait. There must be a trigger."
"Explain."
"It's like arming a bomb and detonating it. First one, then the other. I expect the physical contact will be like the arming. Something else will be the trigger."
"Like what, exactly?"
"I knew you were going to ask that. I don't know. Maybe Diana can tell us - assuming you haven't completely screwed up your relationship," she added, her sense of humor returning.
"Hrn." Eager to change the subject, he continued, "So you think you've exhausted your leads in Aeaea? What's your plan now?"
"What's my plan?" She sounded exasperated. "You're the detective - you tell me!"
"Fine, fine… Let's go back to the flute. Diana thinks it's the legendary Double Flute of Euterpe. It's supposed to be able to enchant audiences."
"Enchant audiences…? Ooookay, I see where this is going. She's got the performing bug. I'll check with my entertainment contacts and see if they know of any new purple-haired big-band vocalists. You probably ought to check on your end as well. And let's focus on large venues. If she's as vain as she seems, she wouldn't settle for a dive."
"See what you can find. And don't stop looking for that counterspell. I can't live in the Batsuit forever."
"Could've fooled me."
* * *
"Las Vegas. You didn't tell me we were going to Las Vegas! Come to think of it, you really didn't tell me anything other than 'I've found Circe. Meet me in the Cave at three. Bring that dress you wore in Paris.' And here I thought you were supposed to be some master of detail. I tore that dress to pieces in order to protect Audrey."
“Forgot about that,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m just glad that Alfred managed to find you that black Versace.”
“Whatever you pay him can’t be enough. It’s not like I’m an easy size to fit, either. Where could he locate a dress like this on such short notice?”
“I’ve learned not to ask.”
His cryptic reply didn’t seem to mollify her in the least, but he wasn’t about to divulge the exact details of how Alfred had purchased the dress months before, just in case Bruce were to arrange a last-minute dinner date with someone of Amazonian proportions.
Diana was scanning the cockpit of the Wayne Apollo. "Looks like a standard corporate jet. Isn't it a bit tame after flying the Javelin and Batwing? Nice name, though."
"I've made some modifications," he said. "Added power, extra features. Name tested well in market research."
" 'Hephaestus' would have been a more accurate choice for power," Diana added quickly, "but I doubt it would've had the same appeal… or that anyone in this country could spell it."
She's on edge, filling the silence with words.
"You know, l just realized - last time you were here, you had the Joker and the Royal Flush Gang to deal with! Now it's Circe. What is it about this town, anyway?"
Yeah. Definitely afraid to be quiet.
"This place reminds me of Rome - well, what you would call ancient Rome, anyway. Same combination of grandeur and tackiness. Mother didn't quite approve of my visiting - she was afraid I'd fall for some minor Roman deity or demigod. Thought the Romans were posers. That's my mother for you."
Bruce tried to say, "I know - I've met her" but his words were lost in the face of her breathless, almost frantic recital.
"Yes, definitely like Rome. Fake everything. They had fake obelisks, did you know that? Some of them were taken from Egypt, of course, but they were so enamored of Egyptian kitsch in Rome they started churning them out. Fake hieroglyphs, even. Not all that different in principle from the Venetian hotel you mentioned - a self-conscious tribute to an older culture."
Diana, I'm so sorry I make you this uncomfortable. He winced, could think of nothing to say.
"Yes, really extraordinary, how history repeats itself. Rome by the desert sands, that's what this is." She was looking out the window now, biting her lip.
Diana, please…
He thought he heard something that sounded like a strangled sob, but he didn't dare look back - he was about to make his final approach to Henderson Executive Airport.
* * *
Diana hung her black Versace gown in the walk-in closet. Turning to Bruce, she asked, "I presume this means we'll be going out at some point?" She appeared calmer than she had been during their flight, but still not fully relaxed.
"We'll have to appear in public sometime for the photographers. Alfred already leaked our 'vacation' to the press."
"Knowing you, it seems impossible that you'd take a vacation willingly." Diana's voice turned serious. "And speaking of the impossible, I did learn more about the Tears of Aphrodite from Callina. Apparently, in some ways they're more powerful than I thought, yet more limited in others."
"How's that?"
"Well, I had thought that for the potion to be effective, it would have to be consumed by the intended…target. But Callina said that physical contact is all that's required - even just a drop on exposed skin might be enough to unleash the effect."
"That's what Zatanna surmised. I've already added a face shield to my cowl. It's still not complete coverage, but will definitely minimize exposure. But she thought that just coming into contact with the Tears wouldn't be enough; that there would have to be some kind of trigger."
"There is. Apparently Mila placed a few drops of the Tears in a cup of wine and managed to convince Nicias to drink it. But she needed to find where he was hiding in the wilderness and make sure they were alone. She had to be the first person whose eyes he met after drinking the wine."
"So the trigger is meeting someone's gaze. Could it be anyone?"
"Probably. The Greeks did support all lifestyles."
"What if the…the target is already in love with someone? The folklore regarding love potions often mentions that. Would they quit loving that person and fall in love with the first person they saw instead? That's what happened in A Midsummer Night's Dream."
She sighed. "We may yet find out. Fortunately, the effects are only temporary. They last until the planets Venus and Jupiter meet in the twilight sky."
"How often does that happen?"
Diana seemed surprised that he didn't know. "Once a year, usually in late summer. This year, it's estimated to be the thirtieth of August."
"Four months from now." He turned away from her. It was early evening; the floor-to-ceiling windows of their suite at the Wynn Las Vegas bathed them in a soft, red glow. Even though they were more than twenty miles away, the Rio Seco Mountains seemed impossibly close - an effect of the clear desert air. Like everything else in Vegas, they seemed playfully oversized.
"Yes. Four months." Her voice seemed to be coming from a world away. "Any time is too long to be in love with the wrong person."
"Guess I deserve that." Against his better judgment, Bruce turned and looked at her.
She was leaning against a wall, her arms crossed. Her lips were pursed and trembled slightly.
"Damn you, Bruce."
He blinked.
Diana had just closed her eyes. "I've been around for a long time, but I still can't understand how you could've gotten to me so much."
He decided against pressing the matter. "So you like the suite?"
She looked up. "It would have made a Roman emperor blush. And I know you're changing the subject."
"I see." He gazed at her levelly. "Good thing the computer picked up that anagram of your name, don't you think?"
"Yes, Zatanna was right. No laugh too cheap for Circe."
The door chime sounded suddenly. He heard Zatanna's cheery yet muffled "Hello."
Diana gave Bruce an intense look. "This isn't over." She walked over to the door and opened it without a word.
"Hey, guys!" Zatanna almost skipped in. "Love this town. So, the witch rearranged your name, Diana? Sheesh. 'Anaid' is a catchy stage name, though."
Diana did not appear all that amused. "Yes, well, there are a few things I'd like to rearrange on her."
"Well then maybe you should hit the slots, because today's your lucky day." Tickets materialized in a poof of blue smoke. "She's performing at ten o'clock tonight, and yours truly got front-of-the-line passes." Zatanna's smile was not at all friendly as she put the tickets on the table. "Surprise, Circe."
"Will she?" Bruce asked, turning to face the window again.
"Will she what?"
"Be surprised."
Zatanna thought for a moment. "I think so. I've been doing some conjuring. She would have to explicitly query for our presence, and even so, it would take some concentration to sense us. She's got a show to do, remember? Plus, she's vain and self-absorbed. Too focused on her show, I expect."
He heard Zatanna's footsteps as she walked around, apparently surveying the suite. She gave a long, drawn-out whistle. "Nice digs. I don't suppose the League's paying for this? Not that it would matter - it all comes from the same source, right?"
"Not as much as it used to. In exchange for more involvement with League activities, the G7 are providing some funding. Came at a good time; I was starting to run out of explanations for where the money was going."
"Batman at a loss? That's hard to believe." Diana's laugh sounded brittle, cold.
He felt his face flush.
"I thought you always had a plan. Maybe it was self-destructive or short-sighted, but you always came up with something."
He gritted his teeth. I should have known this would happen. Once the sadness wore off, anger set in. I can't blame her for being angry, but her timing couldn't be worse.
"Whoa!" Zatanna interjected. "Guys, save it for later, okay?"
Bruce turned to face Zatanna. He stole a glance at Diana, who still looked angry. Come on Diana, compartmentalize. Be Wonder Woman. Focus!
Looking from one to the other, Zatanna continued. "I'm guessing that going to tonight's show is more for the sake of surveillance, right? We'll get the lay of the land; figure out what Circe's up to, then come up with a plan after that. I've prepared a charm that should counteract the Flute's effect so we won't be taken in…that is, if she plans to use it here."
"Good," he said, forcing his tone to remain even. "Zatanna, I think it's best if you arrive separately from us. Unless she manages to flush us out, just pretend not to know us. There's no reason why Bruce Wayne and his date shouldn't watch Circe's lounge act, but your presence in our party might attract too much attention. Were you planning to disguise yourself magically, or conventionally?"
"I've always got magical disguises prepared, but since this is Circe, maybe a conventional one would be better. Did you bring your supplies?"
"Always."
Diana paced back and forth along her side of the room, reminding Bruce of a caged tiger.
"Do you think Circe knows your identity?" Diana asked him.
"No. Why, do you think Catwoman would have told her?"
"How should I know? I'm not the one who -"
"She doesn't know," he growled, fed up with Diana's snappishness. "And even if she knew, she wouldn't tell Circe willingly. Count on it, Princess."
"And Circe wasn't interested in his identity before," Zatanna pointed out. "So it's settled, then? You and Diana will go as your photogenic selves, and I'll go in disguise. We'll watch the show and use whatever opportunities we have to snoop around. I'll get there early and chat up her stage crew; see if I can learn more about her schedule, where she's staying, et cetera."
"Sounds like a plan," Bruce replied, careful not to look at Diana. He went over to his open suitcase, extracted his disguise kit, and handed it to Zatanna. "Makeup, hair coloring, wigs, latex - knock yourself out."
She was rummaging through the kit. "Do you have a blonde wig… yes. Now I can find out if blondes really do have more fun," she said, grinning. "Let's reconvene after the show. Just let me know where and when."
Zatanna moved toward the door. Her hand on the knob, she looked back. "And guys? You're supposed to be lovebirds. Remember?"
* * *
They had dressed in silence in their separate bathrooms. No banter passed between them, which suited Bruce's nerves perfectly.
Circe worried him. He hated dealing with someone so mercurial, so unpredictable. When they had last met, she had gone to incredible lengths just so she could turn Diana into a pig - a bored goddess with a malevolent streak, a flair for the dramatic, and a cruel sense of humor. I should get her in touch with Joker. They'd make a perfect couple, he thought, and he shivered slightly at the thought.
"Ready?" Diana asked, her face impassive.
"Just about." He took one final look in the mirror and switched on his Bruce smile - cutely befuddled, with a hint of dissipation.
"Di! Baby! You look good enough to eat."
Diana glared at him.
"It's an American expression, Diana. That's all. I… God, I'm sorry. About everything."
I can't believe I just dropped out of character like that.
Suddenly, a small, sad smile crossed her lips. "I'm sorry too. Let's stick to the mission. We can talk some more tonight."
Provided we survive, Bruce thought grimly.
The elevator ride down was quick, as the penthouse suites had a private elevator reserved for their exclusive use. Wynn definitely knew how to treat his high rollers. The Wynn was much quieter than most casino hotels; the slots announced their presence quietly, rather than shouting it out.
They made their way through the floor of the casino to Lure, one of the two nightspots at the Wynn. At first, Bruce had been surprised that Circe had picked it for her Vegas debut; it was small, intimate, and not at all suited for a big-band act with its attendant histrionics. Maybe she's decided she's more of a torch singer? Damn, I hate that she's enjoying this so much.
Lure was all blues and ices, cool lights and shadows - more like Gotham than Gotham itself. They sat down near a baby grand piano, a tuxedoed pianist at the keys.
Bruce quickly catalogued the place, memorizing access points, angles, places to hide, places to take cover, obstacles. He felt, rather than saw, Diana doing much the same thing. Zatanna was nowhere to be seen - which just meant she was good at disguise. Clever girl.
Circe - Anaid, he reminded himself - had not yet appeared. Not many possibilities for a grand entrance.
"This really doesn’t seem her style," Diana muttered.
"No, it doesn't. You don't suppose…"
"Suppose what?"
"You don't suppose she got some… humility, do you?"
Diana looked at him levelly. "Are you crazy?"
Bruce grimaced. "That remains to be seen."
For some reason, Diana laughed, just as a sudden hush descended on the crowd. As the music began, she tensed visibly.
"Anaid" entered - impossibly tall and statuesque, in the sheerest black gown with a handkerchief hem. Her purple hair was loose and free, but not the wild mane that was her trademark. She appeared to glide across the floor, the double flute casually held between her left thumb and forefinger. As she walked past them, her smile broadened, and she suddenly turned directly to Bruce, her back to Diana. Her green eyes locked on him and seemed to fill the room.
"I see you still have a taste for pork, Bruce darling. How good to see you again. I've met some clever people in my time - had a fling with Odysseus, you know. They don't make them like they used to, but you're a close second." Her smile remained, but it seemed to recede into her, as if swallowed up in a placid sea of malevolence that filled the room, making it stretch. "When Diana's buried you, do look him up. You have so much in common."
The moment passed, and the room seemed to shrink back again. Bruce sneaked a glance at Diana. She was still tense, glaring at Circe. It had only been a second - or had it? He thought he heard Circe's soft laughter in his head.
Circe's bejeweled right hand swept the room. "Good evening! I am Anaid. Welcome to Lure, ladies and gentlemen. Such a fine crowd tonight. Oh, I see the Themysciran Ambassador is here." And she bowed slightly. The place filled with murmurs.
Bruce had expected Circe to put the flute to use immediately. But she didn't. She put it on the piano instead and began to sing.
The minute you walked in the joint
I could see you were a man of distinction
A real big spender
Good looking, so refined
Say wouldn't you like to know what's going on in my mind?
She was sashaying slowly around the piano, making maximum use of her… assets. He had to hand it to her; she was one of the better-looking evil goddesses he had met. The men - and some of the women - were salivating.
Clever choice of song. He suddenly felt very conspicuous.
So let me get right to the point
I don't pop my cork for every guy I see
Hey, big spender!
spend a little time with me
The psychosexual drama wasn't lost on Diana. She was holding his hand firmly. Laying claim. It cheered him, somehow.
Do you wanna have fun?
How's about a few laughs?
I can show you a good time.
She's actually pretty good, he realized. Being tall and gorgeous helps, of course. But she's actually pretty good.
Circe took a bow. The applause was quite sincere. She let the applause subside and gave the piano player a sideways look. The music started up again, andstill no flute. Why go to all this trouble if… what is she up to? He stole a look at Diana. She looked straight back at him, equally perplexed.
Bruce resisted the temptation to try to locate Zatanna. And Circe walked up and down the lounge, lingering at tables, with smiles that would melt lead.
Never know how much I love you,
Never know how much I care.
When you put your arms around me,
I get a fever that's so hard to bear.
Okay. So she's got the vamp act down. That's not illegal. Where is the evil plan here?
She can’t really just want to be a singer, can she?
They give you fever
When you kiss them
Fever if you live and learn
Fever! 'till you sizzle
what a lovely way to burn
"Thank you! Oh, you're a wonderful audience! Now, some of you may wonder, with a name like Anaid, what my background is. Well - perhaps this song will help…"
She picked up the double flute and started with a single, low note.
This is it.
The song was lovely, and it felt old - old like the Parthenon, and melancholy. Somehow, he could hear her singing, even though the flute never left her lips.
I was there when the ships sailed for Troy
The wine-dark sea to ply
There when Odysseus the gods angered
With cunning most sly
When they cursed him to wander
The earth for a score of years
And there when Aphrodite
Cried like a mortal with tears
Despite Zatanna's precautionary enchantment, Bruce could feel the pull of the magical flute. Even Diana seemed moved. The audience members were not crying, really - they were simply too stunned to do much at all. Entranced.
The last note died away, and thunderous applause swept through the room. One person stood, then another, and suddenly everyone had risen.
A standing ovation after only three songs. No wonder she wanted the Flute. Suppose Zatanna's jealous?
Not wanted to be any more conspicuous than he already was, he stood. Diana glanced at him and then rose to her feet as well.
"Oh, thank you! You're too kind!" Circe bowed again. The applause continued, and seemed to be growing louder.
"Thank you so much!" She motioned for quiet, but the applause and cheers continued.
She's eating this up. He wondered if she was going to imitate Sally Field next.
Finally, Circe began to sing again, first a capella, then joined by the piano.
It's not the pale moon that excites me
That thrills and delights me
Oh no, it's just the nearness of you.
While she crooned, she made her way back to the stage. As she sang the last phrase, she draped herself artfully across the piano.
The applause began again, just as fervent as it had been for her previous number. So the effect lasts even after she stops playing. Interesting.
The rest of the show passed without incident. Circe made no more comments directed toward Bruce or Diana… or Zatanna. I wonder if Circe can sense her?
His communicator crackled. "Quite a show. So where are we meeting?"
He didn't answer Zatanna directly, but raised his voice slightly as he spoke to Diana, "Hope you're hungry, because I've got a table at Le Cirque. They're keeping the place open just for us."
He heard Zatanna's characteristic whistle. "Pretty nice. Guess this mission's got its benefits. See you there."
"Is Le Cirque here?" Diana asked.
"No, it's at the Bellagio; another megacasino combining grandeur and tackiness - right up your alley, Princess." And he patted her on the behind for emphasis.
"Why you -" Diana started, then glared at him, and he heard a few chuckles surrounding them. Still holding his gaze, she winked.
At least she's willing to play along. * * *
Part 6.2