Legendary member of the Justice Society of America, Joan Dale-Trevor fought injustice during World War II. Still youthful thanks to the magic of the mysterious Trevor Island, she still fights for truth, justice, and the American Way as the Marvelous

Issue #7

The American Dream

Part Seven

Written By Paul Daimler

As quickly as she would transmute one of them into something else, another one of the Mad Muses would attack her. Miss America and the Mad Muses had been fighting for what felt like an eternity—although the true passage of time was unknown and not applicable to the perception of time here in the Dreamscape.

“You will eventually tire.” The Prince of Dreams called haughtily, having taken a seat on his throne near the massive faceted gem that imprisoned Miss America’s adopted daughter Lyta, also known as the second Fury.

“Maybe.” Miss America said, turning one of the Mad Muses into a marble statue and then sending it hurtling a good distance away with a swift kick to it. “But, I’m not going to give up.”

Turning the other two Mad Muses into feathers, she watched them float to the floor. She was getting weaker with each transmutation and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep going. With the few minutes these transformations would bring, she took several deep breaths assessing the situation. The Prince of Dreams watched her, his gaze sardonic and patronizing. Across the room, Mr. Chessire and Dark Angel both stood guard, making sure that she wouldn’t gain easy access to the exit.

Of course, I’m not going to try to leave anyway with Lyta. Miss America thought.

“Dark Angel, please take care of this.” The Prince of Dreams sighed, “But, do not kill her I need her alive.”

“As you wish.” Dark Angel advanced toward Miss America.

Taking a deep breath, Miss America steeled herself for the approaching villainess.

Dark Angel was a wandering spirit, ancient and truly unknowable. During World War II it had taken root in the body of Baroness Paula Van Gunther, warping her into an evil Axis-agent. Once freed by Wonder Woman, the Baroness has shown her true heroic persona and become one of Hippolyta’s staunchest allies during the second World War. Since being separated, Dark Angel had wandered, mostly terrorizing Donna Troy—attempting to confuse and corrupt the woman’s memories by convincing her of many untruths about herself. Dark Angel’s original identity, if there had ever even been was, might never be discovered—but she did spend an inordinate amount of time tormenting Wonder Woman, Queen Hippolyta, and their allies. She’d even been responsible for the kidnapping of Miss America’s son Derek Jr. Was Derek Jr. living a false life somewhere? Tormented the way Donna had been tormented? Each life ending in pain and destruction, each one more tragic and horrible than the last? Some night Miss America couldn’t sleep, her thoughts consumed by these fears.

“When I finish beating you down,” Miss America said far more coolly than she felt, “You’re going to tell me where my son is.”

Dark Angel laughed, “You would have to defeat me. That’s not likely. I have the darkest magic at my beck and call. You can transmute things. Temporarily.”

“I’m obviously more than just that.” Miss America said, “Otherwise the Prince of Dreams wouldn’t be referring to me as the avatar of the American Dream. There are obviously things about me beyond just that power.”

“You’d think that.” Dark Angel cackled, “You want to think that. You want ardently to believe. You want to think you were chosen by Gaia to guard her island because you were special. Because there is more to you than just transmutation powers and a costume, and Wonder Woman-knock-off status. But, really, there isn’t. You were picked because you are expendable. If you die in service of Gaia, protecting that island, then the world can go on as normal. If Diana or Hippolyta or Donna Troy or even Lyta or Helena died… things would fall apart.”

“Hippolyta is already dead.” Miss America said defiantly.

“We both know that’s not going to last.” Dark Angel said haughtily. “She’ll be back. Her kind always is. Your kind however… dead by the end of story. Never to be resurrected. Sad really. But, mostly pathetic.”

The air around Dark Angel’s mouth sparkled as Miss America concentrated and Dark Angel’s mouth disappeared, turning into smooth plaster.

“Maybe that will shut you up.” Miss America smirked.

A bolt of dark raging magic exploded from Dark Angel’s hands, roaring toward Miss America.

Miss America attempted to step aside, but the bolt hit her square in the chest, knocking the breath out of her and knocking her unconscious again. She crumbled from her feet, landing in a pile on the floor.

“Easy enough.” Dark Angel said, advancing toward Miss America’s prone form. She looked at the Prince of Dreams. “How is that my lord?”

“That will do.” The Prince of Dreams smiled.

A panel in the wall of the throne room slide aside and Derek Trevor and Alecto entered the room.

“Right in the thick of it, eh?” Derek said. “So much for the element of surprise.”

All eyes turned toward them.

“JOAN!” Derek shouted, seeing his wife unconscious on the floor. He ran over to her. Stooping down, he scooped her up in his arms.

“You OK, Joanie?” Derek asked, as Miss America blinked, as consciousness flooded her mind.

“Yeah, just give me a minute to get my bearings.” She mumbled, looking around. She was back in the Prince of Dream’s throne room. Near his throne, Lyta was trapped in a giant gem, her purple and diamond studded gown glittered brightly through the diamond’s facets.

As Derek helped her to her feet, she focused on Lyta’s prison.

“We have to get Lyta and get out of here.” Miss America said. She looked around the room, at the villains assembled.

Before she could say another word, Tisiphone entered the room. Her terrible grin wide and revealing rows of jagged shark-like teeth.

“Oh, Alecto… did you truly think Megaera was any match for me? I’m so much more powerful than both of you, thanks to Helena’s years as my avatar. I’ve grown strength from the attention she gets from the public. Every punch she ever delivered, I grew stronger. Every time she defeated a villain, I grew more powerful than the two of you. Whereas you and Megaera… dear sweet Megaera are all but forgotten. And grow weaker and weaker with each passing day.”

Tisiphone began to cackle as she lifted the corpse of her sister Megaera high above her head. She twisted Megaera’s head off, tossing is across the room. It hit the floor and bounced several times, before landing near the massive diamond that imprisoned Lyta Trevor-Hall. A small pool of black blood began to form beneath it. Tisiphone tossed Megaera’s body against the far wall. It slammed into it, disintegrating as it did so.

“You will pay for that sister.” Alecto said softly. Her eyes downcast.

“Hah.” Tisiphone laughed, “You will soon join poor Megaera.”

Alecto lifted her head, meeting Tisiphone’s eyes. “We shall just have to see about that.”

“This is all fine and good,” Derek Trevor said, clearing his throat. “But, we need to get Lyta and get the Hell out of here.”

“How do you presume to do that mortal?” The Prince of Dreams asked. “Your wife has failed to free her and overcome my minions, and she has powers on her side and is far more powerful here as the avatar of the American Dream. You are just a mortal man.”

“With a gun.” Derek said calmly, removing a small hand-gun from the inside of his jacket. He pointed it directly at the Prince of Dreams. “Let’s see how you handle a bullet.”

The Prince of Dreams flinched as Derek Trevor snapped the trigger. The bullet slammed into his shoulder, burying it’s self deeply. A string of black oily blood spurted from the wound, splashing the ground.

Derek turned the hand-gun toward the giant diamond housing Lyta. He snapped the trigger again, a bullet gazing the top of it—nicking it, and sending several cracks through it.

“I think I can punch my way out now Daddy!” Lyta shouted, beginning to hammer her fist against the inside of the diamond prison.

The Prince of Dreams touched the wound on his shoulder, pushing his fingers down into the wound he withdrew the bullet. He dropped it on the floor, where the mushroom shaped slug bounced away harmlessly with a tinkling sound.

“Kill the mortal man.” The Prince of Dreams said with a wave of his hand. “He annoys me and is of no use.”

Without further provocation, the Mad Muses descended upon Derek.

He cried out in horror and shock.

“NO!” Miss America shouted, rushing toward her husband. Mr. Chessire and Dark Angel stepped in her path.

“You aren’t going anywhere sister.” Dark Angel told her.

“JOAN! LYTA! I LOVE YOU!” Derek shouted as the Mad Muses dug their claws into his flesh.

“DADDY!” Lyta screamed. She pounded her fists against the walls of her diamond prison harder. The cracks the bullet had created grew wider, streaking down further into the diamond.

“DEREK!” Miss America screamed, watching as the Mad Muses ripped Derek’s arms from his body. Blood showered down upon the entire throne room. Dots of blood rained on Miss America’s cheeks, hot and stinging.

Bubbling with laughter, the Mad Muses stepped away from Derek Trevor.

“FATHER!” Lyta screamed from her prison within the gem.

For a moment everything stopped. Joan looked in horror and disbelief at her husband’s body. She rushed toward him, cradling him in her lap, kissing his lips fervently.

“Derek, oh Derek I love you.”

“I love you, too Joanie. Always have. Always will.” Derek said, his breathing ragged and blood seeping from his lips. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Silence filled the throne room, save Lyta’s weeping which was muted and muffled by the diamond prison.

“I will see you there my beloved.” Joan whispered to him. Gently setting his head down, Joan stood. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind, and focus on getting her and Lyta out of here.

Miss America spun on her heel to face the Prince of Dreams, her eyes filling with fury.

“You will pay for that.” She said, her voice cold and unforgiving. “YOU WILL PAY FOR MY HUSBAND’S DEATH!”

The Prince of Dreams chuckled.

“How do you presume to make me pay little mortal? You’re already weak from your time in the dream cycle. Your powers don’t work right here anyway.” The Prince of Dreams regarded her with a raised eyebrow.

“Easy.” Miss America smiled coldly. She then looked at Tisiphone.

Miss America took a deep breath, “I invoke the Furies.”

A grin covered Alecto’s horrible visage and Tisiphone’s evil smile faded as a look of horror and surprise replaced it.

“In the name of justice and righting wrongs, in the name of justifiable vengeance, I invoke the Erinyes, the Furies. I ask that you punish those responsible for the death of my husband. My lover. My soul-mate.” Miss America’s body trembled slightly as she spoke the words, knowing what she was invoking.

“No.” Tisiphone whispered. “You can’t…”

“But she can sister.” Alecto said softly, playfully. “And you are still duty-bound to answer the invocation. We must punish those responsible for Derek Trevor’s death.”

“Remember your place Tisiphone!” The Prince of Dreams shouted.

“He trembles in fear, sister.” Alecto cooed, “The man who would see to lead you to a greater state of being is afraid of us. You were going to bow to that man?”

“Shut up!” Tisiphone spat. “I am honor-bound to him.”

“Your honor is secondary to your duty. Justice and vengeance are why you are. Without them, you are nothing. Should you refuse to perform your duty, then you will cease to be. And only Helena, trapped within you, shall remain.”

“Dark Angel! Muses! Mr. Chessire!” The Prince of Dreams shouted, “Protect me.”

“Your muses are sadly no real threat.” Alecto said. Moving quicker than the mortal eye, Alecto tore all three of the muses throats out, leaving them squirming on the floor of the throne room.

Alecto looked at Dark Angel.

“Do you want to take me on poor little wandering spirit?”

“I’m out of here.” Dark Angel spat, “All deals are off your highness.”

“DARK ANGEL!” The Prince of Dreams spat.

“Sorry.” She smiled, then disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Alecto turned her attention to Mr. Chessire.

“I’m out of here too!” He exclaimed, turning and running.

Alecto began to advance toward the Prince of Dreams.

“I shall rend you limb from limb. Joan Dale-Trevor, Miss America—the Avatar of the American Dream has called upon the Furies to avenge the death of her husband. As the person who ordered his death, that means you must face our sentence.”

While this all played out, Miss America went to the diamond Lyta was trapped in. Laying her hands against the cold hard surface—focusing on the fractures Derek’s bullet had created, she imagined the air molecules turning into concrete and expanding bigger and bigger. At first there was nothing. The cold gem remained in place just long enough to have her doubting her transmutation powers were going to work. Then the diamond prison exploded as concrete shattered it from within the cracks, releasing Lyta.

“Mother!” Lyta cried, throwing herself into her mother’s arms.

“Oh, Lyta. Thank God.” Joan whispered, tears seeping from her eyes. “We have to get out of here.”

“Not until the Prince of Dreams has paid for what he did to Daddy.” Lyta said quietly. A weird look went through her blue eyes and they focused on Megaera’s head laying on the floor, a pool of blackish red blood congealing beneath it. “I’ve lost my husband. My son. And now my father. I’m not content to play the victim any longer. It’s time to seize my destiny.”

“What are you talking about Lyta?” Miss America asked.

“I’m a Fury.” Lyta said quietly. She walked over to Megaera’s head, lifting it by her the cold dead snakes that made up her hair. “No wonder you wore the helmet.”

Lyta Trevor-Hall gazed into the eyes of Megaera. Then she set the head down, pressing her bare palm in the black-red blood.

Screaming as the blood burned into her, Lyta did not let the pain dissuade her or create even a sliver of doubt.

“I accept my birth right.” Lyta proclaimed, “I take upon the mantle of the Furies. I am the champion and avatar of Megaera, the Fury who rights wrongs, brings justice, and punishes crimes. I assume the remnants of her shade, taking them in as my own. Bonded together through time, I am eternal. I am immortal. I am an Erinyes. One of the sisterhood of vengeance and retribution.”

The gold and red armor Lyta had wore as Fury appeared magically, replacing the gown of silk and velvet, decorated with diamonds and amethyst. With the black blood burning on her hand, she etched out the symbol of the Fury’s on the gold armor covering her chest.

Lyta came up beside Alecto and Tisiphone.

“Let us do our duty sisters.” Lyta smiled. Her voice had taken on an unearthly quality that chilled Miss America’s blood. “Let us settle the debt the Prince of Dreams owes my mortal mother.”

“There is one other debt to settle first.” Alecto said. “The Furies have always paid particular attention to the crimes perpetuated against family. Blood crimes. Tisiphone is the Blood Avenger.”

“But, she has betrayed her own sisters.” Lyta said. “The Blood Avenger has betrayed her own blood and the avatar bonded to her through pledge. Before we can settle the disputes of others Sister Alecto, we must clean our own house.”

“WAIT!” Tisiphone shouted, “Helena is still trapped within me! If you slay me you slay her!”

“That is simple enough to remedy.” Lyta said. “I have spent some time in the Dream world, and much time trapped in this Dreamscape. My perceptions are far greater than that of a mortal. I have powers beyond the strength and stamina of my birthright. And, there are powers beyond those I now possess as Megaera’s successor.”

She walked over to Tisiphone. “I can see where you and my birth-mother are entwined. Where your essence has twisted and wrapped into hers. And I can see how to separate you from her. Alecto seize her!”

Alecto came up behind Tisiphone, gripping her tightly in a bear hug. Tisiphone struggled, but it was futile. Alecto was stronger than she, and her own strength was ebbing and flowing as the Prince of Dreams reclaimed strength he’d give her so that he might stand against her.

“I see where you two meet,” Lyta said, “Right here!” Her gilded gauntlet plunged into Tisiphone’s heart, and she pulled back quickly.

Helena Kosmatos emerged from the small puncture Lyta’s hand had created as Lyta pulled her free. The youthful blonde woman however was nowhere to be found, instead a wizened elderly woman with gnarled posture and brittle bones was free.

“Lyta?” Helena whispered. “Oh, to see you after all of these years…” Helena whispered.

Lyta paid no attention to her birth-mother, instead she and Alecto set upon Tisiphone.

Tisiphone’s screams were terrible as they ripped her apart.

“For crimes against your sisters we bring you to justice!” Alecto shrieked, stepping away, Tisiphone’s head in her right hand.

Lyta took the head from Alecto and turned toward Helena.

She walked toward Helena Kosmatos.

“This belongs to you.” Lyta said quietly. “Long ago you pledged yourself to the Furies. But the Blood Avenger never played fair. Tonight you may claim the true mantle of the Blood Avenger.”

Helena took the head in her arthritis twisted fingers.

“I accept.” Helena whispered.

The blood dripping from Tisiphone’s head began to run down Helena’s arms, washing away wrinkles and veins, leaving smooth skin in it’s place. It wrapped around Helena, until she was covered in blood. Helena tossed Tisisphone’s head aside. It crashed into a wall, crumbling into dust.

From lips coated in blood, Helena proclaimed, “I take upon the mantle of the Furies. I am the champion and avatar of Tisiphone, the Fury who avenges crimes against one’s family, sins of the blood, crimes of passion, and justified vengeance. I assume the remnants of her shade, taking them in as my own. Bonded together through time, I am eternal. I am immortal. I am an Erinyes. One of the sisterhood of vengeance and retribution.”

The blood covering her melted away, going up in glints of light that weaved and wormed their way over her entire body revealing the golden armor Helena had worn as Fury starting during World War II appeared magically. Her right hand remained red with Tisiphone’s blood. Upon the bare golden breast plate of her armor, Helena drew the red insignia of the Furies.

“My mind is now my own. The insanity is cleared away once and for all. And eternal youth is my gift.” Helena said, swirling toward the Prince of Dreams, “And I am able to assume the form of the Blood Avenger—without anger overtaking my mind.”

Morphing into the red-blacked skinned form that had once been Tisiphone’s, Helena’s features were cleary visible. No longer an avatar guided and controlled by Tisiphone, Helena was her own woman now—her rage the rage of the furies.

The three Furies lunged at the Prince of Dreams.

Helena got the first strike, tearing through the Prince of Dream’s pale waxy like flesh. Ribbons of black oily blood rose from where her claws had torn at him.

The Prince of Dreams pulled back, even as Lyta came up from behind, punching the Prince of Dreams in the back, knocking him forward into Helena’s waiting claws. She tore at him more, drawing more blood and smashing more flesh. Alecto entered the fray, tearing at him.

Miss America watched in revulsion mixed with satisfaction as justice being served at the Furies devastated the Prince of Dreams. The sight of him being battering and torn fought with the images of the Mad Muses killing Derek in her mind.

“ENOUGH!” The Prince of Dreams shrieked, knocking all three Furies away.

Helena wasted no time in rushing him again. The Prince of Dreams slammed a fist into her face with all of his might, sending her sprawling across the palace floor.

“I do not have to hold back with the two of you!” The Prince of Dreams glowered. “With Miss America, I needed her alive, so I held back. But, two of you are worthless to me. I will kill you and absorb you. Then marry Lyta. And, then absorb Miss America. I am far from defeated.”

“I will die before I marry you.” Lyta said, grabbing the Prince of Dreams by his arm. Swinging him by it, she tossed him across the room with remarkable ease. He slammed into the far wall, then slid down to the floor, hitting with a thud.

Alecto rushed to where he was, ripping one of his arms lose and beginning to beat him with it.

“By the Furies, you shall pay for your sins!” Alecto cackled madly.

A massive arc of energy exploded from the Prince of Dreams’ forehead, slamming into Alecto and knocking her unconscious. He walked over to her, reached down and pried his arm from her grasp. He placed it back against the socket and his odd waxy flesh reached out hungrily, rebinding to it—even as the rips and tears in his body from Helena’s claws began to seal and heal.

He turned toward Lyta who stood her ground in the distance, only a few feet from Miss America.

“I am not so easily defeated. As you have both learned this evening. I grow weary of this. And these games are tiresome. I will have my way. And I will have it now.” He said, walking across the room toward them.

“You’ll do no such thing.” Miss America said, coming up beside Lyta, taking her by the arm as the two women drew strength from each other.

Before he reached them, a bolt of energy shot from his hand knocking both women to his feet.

“The mighty Furies have fallen before my might.” The Prince of Dreams roared, the palace of diamonds and glass rumbled.

Lyta struggled to her feet as the Prince of Dreams jerked her the rest of the way up.

“I grow weary of this my love.” He hissed, “You and I are to be wed. And I will absorb your adopted mother’s essence. Then crush your real mother. Then the reality out there will fall, and be absorbed into my Dreamscape. Then I will destroy your son Daniel and the Dreaming will become mine as well.”

“You will lose.” Lyta said, feeling her anger building within her. “Your type always loses. Good will always triumph over evil.”

The Prince of Dreams roared with laughter again.

“Let go of my daughter.”

The Prince of Dreams turned toward Miss America, who stood only feet away. Derek’s blood stained her skirt and tunic.

“Never.”

“I said, LET GO OF MY DAUGHTER!”

With a primal scream, Joan Dale-Trevor removed the crystal shard that Miss Cosmos had given her to defeat the Prince of Dreams with. Before the Prince of Dreams could even react, Miss America had plunged the shard into his heart.

Screaming in pain, the Prince of Dreams dropped Lyta, collapsing to his knees.

His topaz eyes glared at Miss America, shooting pure hatred in her direction as the life began to drain from them.

All around them, the palace began to shake and fall apart.

“Let’s get out of here.” Alecto said, hobbling up beside Lyta.

Lyta’s gold armor glistened in the dark beauty collapsing all around them.

“Get your birth mother.” Alecto said to her. “We don’t have much time before this world completely collapses and ceases to be.”

Miss America went to Derek, lifting him. Tears were seeping down her face. The domino mask faded away.

“We must leave, Joan.” Alecto said softly.

“He’s dead.” Joan wept, “He’s my other half.”

“We can mourn him once we’re out of here.” Alecto said.

“Wake up little brother.”

The boy with the blondish-brown haired boy awoke. His thoughts were thick and syrupy. He looked up at the dark-haired beauty standing above his bed. She wore a domino mask and a skirt reflecting the stars and planets.

“Who are you?” The boy asked.

“I’m your sister. And, after a very long time, you are free. Dark Angel’s spell over you, fueling the Prince of Dream’s Dreamscape is over.” The girl said. “You’re finally awake. And, we have much to do.”

“Who am I?” The boy asked.

“You’re the All-American Kid, of course.” The girl said, holding up a red-white-and blue star-spangled outfit.

The sun rose slowly above the horizon, casting golden shadows across the husk of Grover’s Corners.

The tears on Joan Dale-Trevor’s cheeks had dried, but she still felt hollow and angry inside. She held Derek’s cold corpse tightly, the blood on his face darkened dried splotches. They stood on the crumbling porch of the house that had once housed the gateway to the Dreamscape.

“Mom?” Lyta put a hand on her adopted mother’s shoulder.

“I’ll be OK.” Joan said, although she didn’t sound very convincing.

“Mom?”

Joan broke down sobbing, Lyta hugged her mother.

Helena stood watching her birth daughter and the woman who had raised her, feeling the weight of lost years and having never met nor known her daughter before the last few moments.

Alecto stood beside her. Her dark pupiless eyes gazed from beneath her helmet.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Helena asked hopelessly.

“Joan has avenged her husband’s death. She plunged the sliver of crystal into he who orchestrated her husband’s death, and when the realm collapsed the Mad Muses were consumed and absorbed in it’s death throes. There is no resurrection for them, demi-goddesses or not. She has avenged his death.” Alecto said.

“I mean to bring him back.” Helena said, her blue eyes filling with tears. “It seems so cruel that she should lose her husband.”

“His soul has moved on.” Alecto said without a trace of passion. “There is no way to meld flesh and soul back together. Derek Trevor met his destiny in the Dreamscape. He saved the avatar of the American Dream and helped give birth to the new Furies. He is free to move to his reward in the after-life.”

“It’s not fair!” Joan screamed at the dawn. “IT’S NOT FAIR! NOT AFTER ALL OF THIS!”

“Mother?” Lyta was crying openly now. “I’m so sorry.”

Reaching into the pocket in her skirt, Joan removed the second two crystal shards—the ones that Miss Cosmos had said were her rewards. Looking in them, she for a brief instance saw Miss Cosmos reflected in one, and a boy wearing a star-spangled costume in the other.

Setting Derek’s body down, Joan rose. Grasping one crystal shards tightly in each hand, she felt them cut into her palms. Joan tossed the shard in her left hand with all the force she could muster.

It slammed into the cracked pavement of the road beyond the house, shattering in a halo of bright shimmering light.

Joan spun toward Derek, holding her breath in hopes that she would find him breathing, his eyes open and a sleepy smile on his lips. But, he remained there on the sun-silvered planks of porch boards motionless and empty.

“NO!” Joan screamed, tossing the other shard with a fury that sent shivers even through Alecto’s very being.

The second shard shattered into a million pieces, each piece turning into a speck of light.

But, again Derek remained motionless.

“Some rewards.” Joan whispered, unable to muster any more emotion.

Epilogue

Joan Dale-Trevor watched a wave crash to the shore of Trevor Island from the patio behind the large stone house that had been built so many years ago.

It had been nearly three months real world time since they’d defeated The Prince of Dreams. She’d been here for two months real world time, leaving New Athens once Derek’s funeral was complete and all business had been wrapped up. She’d been here since. Right now she needed the sanctuary of Trevor Island, to be in a place where she and Derek had known only happiness—their secret island that no one could find unless she willed them to.

And right now, she didn’t want anyone to find her. The members of the Justice Society had been very kind, offering their assistance and shoulders. But, she shunned them. She’d also turned her back on Wonder Woman when she’d offered help. Right now, there was still a rawness of emotion tangled up with Wonder Woman for Joan. She needed some time before she could look at Diana without feeling some measure of anger. She had freed herself from the Prince of Dreams’s dreamtrap, but some of the poison he’d spewed was still inside her.

How much time had passed was difficult to gage, as time flowed differently on Trevor Island. Many had asked her over the years, what was it that made that so. And Joan had always feigned ignorance. The truth was the secrets of Trevor Island were not hers to tell, and were not something she figured anyone needed to know. At least not yet. The Well of Gaia remained here, safely hidden from any who might seek it.

Walking back into the manor, Joan made her way into the living room where the television blared, bringing in satellite news from New Athens. According to date and time on the news, it was now six months since the defeat of the Prince of Dreams, even though it had been three weeks when she’d gone out onto the patio only moments ago.

“Today, in New Athens a terrorist attack was thwarted by the Furies.” The newcaster said, a smile plastered on his face. He cut to footage of several men being led away in handcuffs, as Lyta and Helena looked after him. “When questioned, neither woman was willing to discuss where they have been all these years, as both super-heroines have been inactive for years.”

Joan was glad that Helena and Lyta were getting time together. Lyta needed a mother-figure right now, especially with so much changed in the world since she’d gone to the Dreaming and remained there as Daniel’s mother. She had found herself unable to return to Daniel’s world—as the Prince of Dream had tainted her somehow—making her return impossible. Joan just couldn’t be there. Not now. And now that Helena was sane with Tisiphone’s spirit gone from her body, let Helena be mom for a time.

“You’re being selfish.” Joan said to herself, having the same argument she’d batted around in her own head for so many days now. But, she needed to be selfish for a bit. At least until the pain lessened.

“In other news, we take you to New York City, where the new hero team of Miss Cosmos and the All-American Kid defeated a new incarnation of the Fearsome Five.”

Joan’s head perked up and she looked at the television.

Her breath caught in her throat as Miss Cosmos and the All-American Kid’s faces filled the screen. She’d seen both of them reflected in the crystal shards Miss Cosmos had given her. Miss Cosmos was wearing the domino mask, but outside of the Dreamscape Joan could more clearly see her features. The All-American Kid wore no mask. And was the spitting image of Derek.

Miss Cosmos had told her the crystals were her rewards.

The television showed a image of Miss Cosmos by herself, as she explained how she and her partner had defeated the Fearsome Five.

Everything suddenly became crystal clear to Joan Dale-Trevor, although the details were still unknown.

Her reward…

“It’s Derek Jr. And Angela.” She whispered. Her children—both lost and dead, were returned.

Joan ran from the house, heading for the airstrip where the small plane waited.

THE END

Paul Daimler