by Stan Lee
He was trapped, thousands of miles from home. And yet, somehow, he felt alive.
Despite himself, Steven Lee laughed.
Jasmine crawled out from behind the crates. Her arm was bleeding slightly, but she was smiling. “Nice throw,” she said.
She held out a hand. Cautiously, he took it and helped her up.
She touched the shallow cut on her arm. “Tiger’s got claws,” she said.
“What was that about?” he asked. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“No I’m testing you.” She turned to call out to Carlos. “What do you think?”
“I think he’s a Tiger,” Carlos said. He sounded distracted.
“We knew that already.”
“I think tracking these powers is more important right now!”
Jasmine sat down on a crate, and motioned for Steven to sit next to her. He followed her, still wary.
“I won’t bite,” she said.
“I think you just did.”
“Fair point.” She glanced again at her arm. “You handle yourself pretty well. Considering you haven’t had any combat training.”
“Have you? Had training, I mean?”
“Oh yeah.” Jasmine looked away. “The neighborhood I grew up in—you had to learn to take care of yourself. And I’ve had…well, I’ve had military experience, too.”
With Maxwell, Steven thought. There was some connection between Jasmine and Maxwell, something beyond the fact that they now shared the Dragon power. But she didn’t seem to want to talk about it.
“You’re a natural,” she continued. “You’ve got enhanced strength and reflexes. But if you’re going to survive, you’re gonna need more than that. Maxwell’s agents—they’ll have all that and more.”
Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, the Tiger energy receded; the beast seemed to shrink back inside him. His senses grew duller, fading back to normal.
Except it’s not normal anymore, he realized. Not for me.
And then the enormity of the situation washed over him. He felt scared, overwhelmed. Everything—all the chaos and fighting of the past day—seemed to catch up with him all at once. He turned away, fighting a terrible instinct to burst into tears.
Jasmine watched him closely.
Carlos approached, holding up his analyzer. “HQ has the beams plotted,” he said. “Looks like two of them ended up in Europe, one in Africa, and one went all the way to America. I should have exact locations in…”
Jasmine motioned him to silence. She laid a hand on Steven’s shoulder, and when she spoke, her voice was softer than usual.
“Hey,” Jasmine said. “Do you want to call your parents?”
He whirled back around. “Can I do that?”
“Jaz,” Carlos said. “That’s not a good idea.”
“It’s better than having them launch a worldwide manhunt for him,” Jasmine replied.
Carlos just frowned.
“You can’t tell them about this,” she said to Steven. “Nothing about the Zodiac, Maxwell, or Vanguard. If you did, you’d be putting them in great danger. Do you understand that?”
Steven nodded.
Jasmine pointed to an old-style, rotary phone mounted on the wall. “That’s hooked up to a satellite feed…you should be able to get a connection. Just tell them you’re all right, and that you won’t be home for a while. Tell them…well, tell them how you feel, I guess.”
With that, Jasmine picked up her boots and started toward the door. “Come on, Carlos,” she said. “Let’s give the kid some privacy.”
“Do we have to go above decks?” Carlos asked. “You know I get seasick.”
Jasmine took his arm, smiling. “My brave science man,” she said.
“Um,” Steven said. Jasmine stopped and looked back. “Thanks,” he said.
She smiled a strange, sad smile. “You asked me why I care so much about stopping Maxwell,” she said.
“You said. That city, Lystria—”
“It’s because of my parents. He killed them.”
Her voice was very steady. It sounds, Steven thought, as if she’s trained herself not to feel anything at all.
Before he could reply, Jasmine and Carlos were gone. Steven stood alone in the softly lurching room, staring at the cold red phone on the wall.
He closed his eyes and sat down, trembling, on a crate. In his mind, he saw again the whirring, spinning shipan—the Chinese compass—its Zodiac rays flashing out in all directions. He saw Maxwell, swooping and flying through the air, the Dragon power raging all around. And then Steven felt, again, the touch of the Zodiac beam, its icy power stabbing through his body.
With shaky fingers, Steven reached out and started to dial his father’s private line. Then he changed his mind, hung up, and dialed his mother instead.
The phone buzzed a rapid-fire busy signal in his ear, not even trying to connect.
What’s the country code for the U.S.?
Five minutes later, the line finally started ringing. Steven swallowed nervously. Suddenly he wasn’t sure what he could possibly say to his parents.
“Hello?” His mother’s voice sounded very far away. “Who is this calling?”
Steven cleared his throat. “Hi, Mom,” he said.
“Oh,” she said. “Steven.”
She doesn’t sound very happy to hear from me, he thought.
“Listen,” he said. “I just want you to know…I’m not going to be home for a while.” There was a silence on the line. “Mom, did you hear me?”
“Yes,” she said. “I hear you.”
“I’m fine. But I’m still in…I mean, there’s some stuff I have to take care of. I know it sounds weird.”
“All right.”
Is she even listening to me? he wondered.
“Mom, I…” He heard his voice crack, and hated himself for it. “Don’t you even care where I am?”
“We heard about the fire, but you’re almost an adult, Steven. You can take care of yourself.”
“Oh.”
“Steven,” his mother continued, a strange tone creeping into her voice. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
“Okay.”
“My father…your grandfather. He passed away this morning.”
Steven felt as if a cold pit had opened up underneath him. The ship lurched, and Steven’s stomach churned along with it. He closed his eyes and saw, once again, the vision of his grandfather. The one he’d seen when the Zodiac beam reached out to clutch him in its icy embrace.
Something is ending here, the grandfather-vision had said. But something new is beginning.
“It was painless,” his mother continued. “He died in his sleep. You’ll forgive me, Steven, but I’m a bit distracted now with the funeral arrangements.”
His throat felt dry. It was an effort to speak.
“Sure,” he said. “I understand.”
“You do what you have to,” she continued. “I’ll let your father know you called.”
“Okay.”
“Good-bye, Steven.”
“Mom.” He paused. “I’m sorry I can’t be there—”
A dial tone interrupted him. The line had gone dead.
All his life, Steven’s parents had been busy with their work. They’d built up their company from scratch, traveling the world to secure contracts. They’d always treated him well, but they weren’t around very much. That duty, that role, had been filled by his grandfather.
And now he’s gone.
When Jasmine and Carlos came back into the room, they found Steven staring straight ahead. The phone receiver was crushed into pieces in his fist. He’d shattered it without even noticing, leaving little cuts on his palm.
Jasmine touched him on the shoulder while Carlos pried Steven’s fingers apart and softly wiped away the blood. Steven turned away, using his sleeve to rub the tears off his face.
Jasmine started to speak, but Steven cut her off. He didn’t want her sympathy—not now. He just wanted t
o get on with his life.
With the mission.
“So,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Greenland?”
“Ah, no,” she replied. “Change of plans.”
Steven looked at her, surprised.
“The Zodiac energy has already made contact with its new hosts,” Carlos said. “We’ve got to find them as soon as possible.”
“You’ll have to wait to see our digs,” Jasmine added.
“Okay.” Steven nodded. “So where are we going?”
Carlos held up the analyzer. On its screen, a text message from headquarters glowed green against black. It consisted of a single word:
FRANCE
“DO, RE, MI, FA, SO, LA, TI, DO…”
Roxanne leaned over the counter of the small bathroom, running scales to loosen up her voice. She’d locked herself in there for a few minutes to warm up. There were no private dressing rooms on this tour.
Maybe someday.
“Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti…”
She adjusted her torn T-shirt to reveal one shoulder, then the other. Then she shook her head and reached for a gray hoodie with a black rhinoceros hand-drawn on the front. She shrugged it on, briefly muffling the sound of her own voice.
“Mmo, may, mi, fagh, fo, la, ti, do…”
Roxanne was nervous. This was the biggest show her band, Les Poules, had played to date. The venue, a converted castle a hundred kilometers outside of Paris, was particularly cool. Even the bathroom had thick stone walls.
“Do, re, mi, fa…”
But it wasn’t just the size of the show that had Roxanne feeling jumpy. As she ran her voice up the octaves, a sick feeling started to form in her throat. She pushed it away and tried to think of something else.
“…so, la, ti, do…”
That new bass player better get his act together, she thought. He still hasn’t got the latest batch of covers down.
“Do, re, mi…”
Roxanne leaned forward, tilting her head as she peered into the mirror. Her smooth dark skin shined under the fluorescent light. She ran a hand over her cropped hair, squinting her eyes. Too much mascara? It was hard to judge. It’s all about putting on a show, she thought.
“…fa, so, la, ti…”
The lyrics of her favorite new song started running through her mind: Mothers don’t care. Fathers don’t care. Babies don’t…
“…DO—”
As she hit the high note, Roxanne heard a shattering noise. Something whipped her backward, very fast. She stumbled and half fell onto a folding chair, then looked around, dazed.
She noticed the mirror. It was cracked and shattered, falling one piece at a time into the sink.
No, she thought, staring in horror at a distorted image of herself reflected in a hanging shard of glass. No. Not again.
There was a banging on the door. She whirled around.
“Roxy? Sweetie?”
Roxanne sighed. She stood up and opened the door.
Roxanne’s mother burst into the room, tottering on her heels. “I heard something!” she exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
“Relax, Maman.” Roxanne grimaced, trying to disengage herself from her mother’s iron grip. “I’m fine.”
“I just, you’re about to go onstage, and it’s your biggest concert ever, and—”
“Maman. Don’t make me nervous or anything.” She rolled her eyes.
“—and I just want to make sure everything’s fine.” The older woman appraised Roxanne for a moment, her mouth twisting into a frown. “That’s what you’re wearing?”
Roxanne pointed at the image on her sweatshirt. “It dramatizes the plight of the black rhino!”
Roxanne’s mom stepped back, shaking her head.
The rest of the band ran up behind her. “Rox,” said Paolo, the drummer. “You done hogging the bathroom?”
The new bass player Jaiden pointed past her at the broken mirror on the wall. “Somebody’s a temperamental rock star today.” Pierre, the second guitarist, snorted.
“Shut it.” Roxanne turned back to her mother. “Maman, I’m fine. Really.”
But her mom was looking at the mirror now. “You did this?” she asked, turning to Roxanne with concern. “Are you hurt?”
“No, Maman. It was an accident.” She held up her hands. “See? No cuts, no bruises.”
“Then…how…” Mom shook her head in confusion. “It’s just that I worry about you, dear. Ever since your father left—”
“Maman—”
“I mean, you know I support you. I’ve never questioned your decisions. No matter how much you put off your education to do this, to play in these places, with these people—”
Her mom waved her arms around, vaguely indicating the band. Paolo, Pierre, and Jaiden exchanged a glance, then shrugged.
“—no matter how you choose to dress, the makeup you wear—”
“Maman. I’m fine!”
Roxanne’s mother just stared for a moment, a tear forming in her eye. Then she leaned forward again. Roxanne felt the hug coming. Her band mates watched, amused.
Then her mother’s arms were around her, and despite herself, Roxanne felt suddenly safer. She closed her eyes and burrowed her head into her mom’s shoulder. It was true: Her mother had always been there for her. Had always supported her work, her music, her dreams.
For the first time, Roxanne realized: I’m lucky.
Then she heard a snicker. She pulled back and glared past her mom.
“You’re ’bout to lose those strumming fingers, Jaiden.” Roxanne reached back into the bathroom and grabbed her guitar. “Come on, losers. Let’s rock this tomb.”
The band nodded and turned away, high-fiving each other. Roxanne reached out a hand to touch her mother’s shoulder.
“Thanks,” Roxanne said. “I, I couldn’t do this without—”
Her mom cut her off. “Just go save the black walrus, dear.”
“Rhino.”
“Whatever.” She smiled and turned to go.
Roxanne shook her head, also smiling. But her smile froze as she cast a glance back and saw, once again, the broken mirror. Pieces of her face stared back from its jagged segments.
“Not again,” she whispered to herself. “Please, not tonight.”
Then she turned and ran toward the stage.
Steven opened his eyes and blinked. A flat, dry plain stretched all around him, barren under the night sky. An unnatural fog rose up in all directions.
Hello? he called.
As if in answer, a low, crouched figure appeared, silhouetted in the fog. As it drew closer, it began to glow. Its eyes flashed, shimmering with energy, as it pawed impatiently at the ashen ground.
The Tiger.
It stared at him, seeming to challenge him with its eyes. And suddenly, Steven felt a surge of doubt. Can I handle this power? he wondered.
Then Steven noticed something else. Astride the Tiger, sitting on its back, was the slumped form of his grandfather. His grandfather who had just died, while Steven was off playing hero on the other side of the world.
Grandfather smiled his familiar, kind smile. He pulled on the Tiger’s reins, and the great beast came to a halt, roaring in mild protest.
Then Grandfather held out his hand. Steven squinted, and saw a gleaming object sitting in the old man’s palm. It was his compass…a luopan, Grandfather had called it. An old Chinese artifact, a smaller version of the giant whirling disk that had given Steven his Zodiac power.
Impatiently, Grandfather pushed the luopan toward Steven. Take it, the old man said. It’s your heritage. It will show you the way.
Grandfather dropped the compass into Steven’s hand. It felt cold, like an old bone.
When Steven looked up, the fog seemed to be closing in from all sides. The old man’s face was blurry, and the Tiger was hard to see, too, its low roar rising from the mist.
I don’t know the way, Steven said. I don’t know where to go next.
Grandfather ge
stured impatiently. He raised a hand and pointed up into the sky. As Steven watched, the sky lit up in a flash of green energy.
Zodiac energy.
Steven squinted. Then he could make out a single pinprick of light shining through the gloom. No—two separate lights, blinking as they crept across the night sky.
An airplane, he realized. It’s—it’s chasing the energy.
Steven looked down again. But his grandfather was gone now. Only the Tiger remained, panting audibly, its breath heavy in the night.
Steven pointed up to the sky. “Is that where I need to be?” he asked.
Slowly, the Tiger’s head swiveled side to side.
No, Steven realized. I don’t need to go to the airplane.
I’m already there.
“Hey, Tiger. You still with us?”
Steven shot upright with a jolt. Jasmine was staring down at him, the now familiar smirk on her lips.
Steven sat up stiffly. He was seated alone in a short row of a commercial airplane, slumped over both seats. The steady thrum of jet engines pulsed in the background.
“Sorry to wake you,” Jasmine said, leaning over him from the aisle. “You were kind of thrashing around there.”
“He was moving his arms and legs in frantic little motions,” Carlos’s voice said. “Like a cat having a nightmare.”
Steven looked past Jasmine. Carlos sat in the aisle seat opposite, busily cutting something up with scissors.
“Where—” Steven rubbed his eyes. “Where are we?”
“About forty-five minutes from landing,” Jasmine replied. “Then it’ll be a bit of a drive from Paris.” She sighed. “We have got to get our own transportation.”
“Get me some money,” Carlos said, “and I’ll get us transportation.”
“Details.” Jasmine smiled and made a fluttering motion with her hand. “I’m more of a big-picture person.”
Steven motioned for her to sit next to him. “And you’re sure the girl we’re looking for will be there?”
Jasmine pulled out her phone and called up a photo on the screen. It showed a tall, pretty young woman with dark skin, her hands jammed stiffly into the pockets of a hoodie. The woman was squinting at the camera with a challenging look.