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The car pulled up in front of the post office. A man got out. The postmaster walked up and greeted them. He was a short, balding man, and was gradually losing the battle of the bulge.
"Captain America, I'm so glad you could come. It's been a long time since you've done this. But, might I ask where your teammates are?"
"They should be arriving right about . . . now," Cap replied.
Just then, Flash came running up, and Iron Man descended from the sky.
"Everyone else was busy with their own holiday traditions," Cap explained. "So, it's only going to be the three of us."
"Well, let's come on in out of the cold," the postmaster said. The four walked into the post office, and continued walking past the main area where most civilians are allowed to go. They finally stopped when they reached a room with the Avengers League icon on it. The postmaster opened it, and let the door swing open. The room was stuffed - wall to wall, floor to ceiling - with letters, all addressed to the Avengers League.
"Holy . . . " Flash whispered in awe.
Cap sighed.
"It's been so long, we had to throw away some of the mail. We had hoped that someone would continue the tradition while the League was disbanded, but no one came. When we learned of your reforming, we made sure to have it ready for you this year."
"Yes, thank you," Cap said. "We appreciate it."
"Well, I'll leave you three alone. You have a lot to do."
The postmaster left and closed the door.
"Cap, I completely forgot how much mail we used to get," Iron Man said. "There's no way we can get through all of this."
"I don't plan to," Cap replied. "Most of it is probably junk from people wanting business propositions. No, we are here to help those who need it."
"Let's get started," Flash said.
"Hand me a bag . . . " Cap sighed.
The vast amount of mail should have made Cap proud and happy. But it didn't. In fact, it made him depressed. The sad fact was that most of these letters were requests for help from people all over the world. Some of them were valid problems, some were just silly, but each request was heartfelt. It was a source of great sadness to Cap that the League could not help the most of these people. There just weren't enough hours in a day to help everyone in the world who needed help. Captain America wished he could help everyone, and knowing he couldn't haunted him.
This being Christmas, the amount of mail had increased drastically. At this time of year, people looked for miracles. Cap, as he often did, took a look at a few letters. In fact, due to it being the holidays, he read more than usual. He hoped that he could help more people this month than he normally gets the chance to.
After about twenty minutes of reading letters, he spotted one that really struck him. It was a request for Cap to visit the home of a dying man. That wasn't unusual. But what was unusual was that the letter came from someone who was familiar to Cap from years past. The man Cap knew as the Black Spider, a criminal who Cap and other heroes had thwarted back in World War 2. He was now asking Captain America, a man he had once tried to kill, to come to him on his deathbed. It was very strange and very nervy. But Cap was very curious. What did the Black Spider want from him after all these years? Cap decided to answer the summons and visit his old foe.
A middle-aged woman answered the door. She was surprised to see Captain America at her door. Her jaw dropped.
"Hello," Cap said. "I'm looking for Roger Stuart."
"Come in," she said, watching Cap intently.
There was a ten-year-old girl playing in the room. She saw Cap.
"Hi," she said. "I'm Sheila. Are you a superhero?"
"Hello, Sheila. Yes, I am a superhero. I'm Captain America."
"Do you know Wonder Woman?"
"Yes, I do."
"She's my favorite."
"I don't blame you," Cap said. "She's a great woman."
The mother intervened. "Sheila, would you go into the other room for a minute? I want to talk to the Captain."
The little girl walked out. "Goodbye, mister."
"Goodbye, Sheila."
The mother looked at Cap. "Captain. I know who my father used to be. I know all about the Black Spider. I don't excuse him. But my father is very old and very sick. He's dying. Please don't harass him."
"I didn't come here to harass him," Cap said. "He wrote me a letter asking me to come here."
He showed her the letter. She read it, then she pointed to the bedroom. "He's in there. Please don't upset him."
Cap walked into the bedroom. He saw a frail, thin, sickly old man lying in a bed. He looked up at Cap and offered a weak smile. "Captain America," he whispered. "I didn't really believe you'd come."
"I'm not exactly sure why I did. What did you want to see me about?"
"I'm dying, Captain."
"So you told me in the letter. I'm sorry."
"That doesn't matter," the old man said. "I don't matter. What matters is my granddaughter, Sheila."
"I don't follow you," Cap said.
"She doesn't know about me," the old man said. "Not yet. But someday, she's bound to find out. I'm not proud of what I did in the past, but that was a long time ago. I've been on the straight and narrow for many years now. After I got out of prison, I married and had a daughter. You just met her. She grew up to find out about me and didn't talk to me for many years after. Finally she forgave me, but she still has resentment for me. Disappointment. And shame. It may have affected her life, and her marriage. I don't want that to happen to Sheila. One day, when she finds out, I don't want her to be psychologically screwed up. And more than that, I don't want her to hate me. After I'm gone, I want her to have good memories of me."
"What does this have to do with me?" Cap asked.
"I want you to lie to her," the man said.
Cap looked surprised.
The old Black Spider continued. "Please talk to her. Tell her something good about me. Once she gets older, she'll hear about what a great hero you are. About what a great hero you were in the old days, and still are. You're a legend. When you talk, people believe you. And because you're trusted, I want you to lie to her."
"You realize how hypocritical that is, don't you?" Cap asked.
"I do," the old man said weakly. "But please, do this. Tell her something good. Twist the real story around. Add in some little white lies. Maybe you could tell her I was an undercover good guy all that time. Something. Anything. Just find a way to keep her from hating me when she gets older and learns the truth. Whatever else she may hear about me, she'll always be able to remember that the greatest hero of all, Captain America, put in a good word for me."
Cap sat undecided.
"Please," the old man begged. "Grant an old man's dying wish. I know I haven't earned it. But I love my granddaughter. And this is all I can leave her."
Cap sighed and nodded. The old man grabbed Cap's hand. "Thank you, Captain. You really are a great hero."
Cap left the room. The mother looked at him. She nodded at him. Cap gave her a polite smile. He saw little Sheila in the other room. He went over to the little girl. "Hi, Sheila."
"Hi, mister," she said. "Do you want to play with me?"
"Sure I do," Cap said, sitting down with her. "And maybe we can talk about your grandpa. I knew him a long time ago."
Iron Man came across one, however, that he couldn't put into a pile. It seemed so urgent to him that he decided he must take care of it himself.
"I'll let you know what happened when I get done with this, Flash," Iron Man said as he rushed out of the room. His repulsors lit up as he took off into the sky.
The content of the letter went through Iron Man's head.
My biggest wish for Christmas is for Iron Man to see my father's battlesuit.
Iron Man's GPS system directed him as he flew toward the address specified in the letter. Finally he arrived at a ranch-style house on the end of a quiet street in the shadow of a towering steel mill. Tony had visited a lot of factories in his career, but he had not spent a lot of time in the towns that usually existed around them.
The street was pretty cheery, with holiday decorations up on the houses. One house did not have as many decorations as the others. Iron Man's sensors picked up the sound of hammering and arc welding from the garage of the house.
As Iron Man walked toward the house, he noticed that this was the address from which the boy's letter had come.
Iron Man knocked on the door. A seven-year-old boy answered the door.
"Dad! Dad! He came! He answered my Christmas wish in my letter!"
"Hello there," Iron Man said. "You must be Seth Peters, the one who wrote me the Christmas letter."
"Yeah! Come on and meet my dad! He's in his garage!"
The boy led Iron Man through a relatively clean but humble house toward the back yard. There was a rather large shed out in the yard, from which Iron Man could hear the sound of a hammer pounding against metal.
Seth knocked on the door of the shed and then opened it. A lean, middle-aged man stood in a grease-covered shirt and a pair of jeans. He wiped some sweat from his brow.
"What do you need, Seth . . . jeez!" The dad caught sight of Iron Man.
"Hello!" He put out his hand and Iron Man shook it gently. "Ron Peters, nice to meet you, Iron Man. My son was talking about you coming to meet me, but I thought it was just another one of his daydreams!"
"Pleased to meet you. You building something there, Mr. Peters?"
Mr. Peters was a little embarrassed. "Oh, it's nothing special, really."
Seth ran over to what looked like a battlesuit made of steel and scrap metal. The materials were rough, but Mr. Peters had crafted a rather decent-looking suit. Strapped to the back of the suit was a flamethrower-like device, which seemed to be controlled by circuitry in the gauntlets.
"It's dad's battlesuit!" Seth said, running over to show it off. "It's just like yours, Iron Man, but I don't think he has any lasers in it yet."
"Wow!" Iron Man exclaimed. "Most guys build cabinets and stuff in their workshops . . . you put Tim the Tool Man to shame with that!"
"Aw, it's nothing special, just something to pass the time. Time is all I have nowadays."
"Don't you work over at the mill?"
Peters frowned. Seth looked very sad. Iron Man had said something that touched a very deep nerve.
"I used to work over at the mill. I got laid off, along with about fifty other decent workers, about a month ago. I've looked for work, but the mill is the center of the town around here. Not too many other places to work, you know? "
"I'm sorry," Iron Man replied. "I didn't mean to bring it up."
"Fifteen years I put into that place. A lot of product going out there showing my attention to quality, and my dedication. And they lay me off, just like that. You know what I want to do the most?" Peters walked over to the suit and started looking as if he was going to put it on. "I'm going to put this on, and go over to that mill, and show them a thing or two . . . "
"That wouldn't solve anything, Mr. Peters. If the police caught you, who would take care of Seth?"
"It would give me some satisfaction. It would pay them back for what they did to me, and this town."
"You know, I can't say that I have ever had to face not having a job. Tony Stark has me pretty set up for life," Iron Man mused. "But you have a lot of skills. Maybe I can talk to my employer and see if he has anything open for a metallurgist."
"Would we have to leave town?" There was a little bit of sadness in Mr. Peters' eyes.
"I would think so. The closest plant Stark Enterprises has is outside of New York City. Given your situation, I'll suggest that Stark offer you some relocation money."
"My family has been in this town for two generations . . . but there's nothing left here if I can't get work." He shook Iron Man's hand again. "I'll take it! It would get me out of the house and working with metal again."
Peters went over to his workshop table and got a piece of paper. "You have my address, otherwise you wouldn't have come to visit." He wrote his telephone number on the scrap of paper. "If Mr. Stark, or whoever does the hiring, wants to give me a call, I'm here all day."
"I'll give him the number," Iron Man replied.
For the next hour or so, Iron Man examined the design of the Argent Avenger armor, and then Seth showed him some of his airplane and spaceship models. Iron Man showed Seth and Mr. Peters some of his own suit's features.
It was finally time to leave. "Happy Holidays, Mr. Peters," Iron Man said as he prepared to lift off into the sky.
"Happy Holidays, Iron Man," Mr. Peters and Seth said.
Iron Man flew back toward New York feeling better than before. He knew, however, that the steel mill layoffs had hurt more people than Mr. Peters - but if Iron Man had helped to redirect just one man's energy toward furthering his talents rather than destroying someone out of revenge, then he had done some good in the end.
Captain America and Iron Man returned about the same time. They found that Flash had finished sorting most of the mail. He was down to the last five sacks.
"I see you have a system worked out," Cap commented. "Nice."
"Yes," Flash replied. "We put the junk mail in that corner. Over the other corner are outdated requests. And the rest . . . " He sighed.
"Did you run across anything special?" Iron Man asked.
Flash held up the letter in his hand. "As a matter of fact, I did." He looked up sheepishly at his teammates. "I guess this one's mine, huh?"
"If you feel you must . . . " Cap said.
"Oh, I do. I wouldn't feel right if I came to help with the mail and didn't do anything. I will take care of this. I guess I'll see you in a while?"
"We'll be here," Iron Man said.
Flash raced off.
"Mrs. Simonson?" Flash asked. He had just run from New York City to Fawcett City, but was not out of breath.
"Yes, that's me," the elderly lady on the other side answered. She peered through the door, leaving the chain on. Flash could see that she was wearing a pink housecoat.
"May I come in?"
She shifted over to get a good look at her visitor.
"Who are you?"
"I am Flash. I'm from the Avengers League. I got your letter."
"Well, good heavens me!" Mrs. Simonson exclaimed. She closed the door, and then opened it all the way. "Come on in."
"Thank you, ma'am," Flash said as he entered.
"Let's come into the sitting room," Mrs. Simonson offered. "Would you care for something to drink? Coffee? Soda? Eggnog?"
"No thanks," Flash replied politely. "I'm fine."
The two entered Mrs. Simonson's "sitting room." Mrs. Simonson took a seat on the sofa. Flash sat down in the armchair beside her.
"So, Mrs. Simonson, your letter said something about finding your son?"
"Yes. You see, I was diagnosed a couple of months ago with a terminal illness. The doctors are not sure how long I have to live. I was hoping to spend one last Christmas with my son."
"But you haven't heard from him in a while."
"That's right. For some reason, it seemed like he fell off the face of the Earth."
"Do you have any idea where he might be?"
"The last letter I received from him had a return address of Keystone City."
Flash perked up when he heard this. "Keystone City?" he asked. "Then you're in luck. That's my home base!"
"Oh, can you please find him? His name is Bill." She stood up and walked to a desk. She picked up a picture and handed it to Flash. "Here take this. It's the latest picture I have of him."
Flash stood up. "I'll be on my way."
"Oh, thank you, Flash." Mrs. Simonson gave the hero a hug.
"Sure, no problem . . . "
"Excuse me," Flash said. "Do you need some assistance?"
The man turned around. "No, jus' lookin'."
Flash was shocked. It's him! It's Bill Simonson! Is he . . . Out on the street?
"Pardon me for asking," Flash said, "but is your name Bill?"
"Yes," the man grunted. "What of it. It's a common enough name."
"Your last name wouldn't be Simonson, would it?"
Bill stopped rummaging and turned around. "What are you, one of those superheroes?"
"Well, yeah - "
"And how do you know my name?" Bill snapped. "Did someone tell you to find me? To give me handouts?"
"Actually, your mother wrote a letter to the Avengers League. I answered it. She wants to see you, Bill."
"Does she know I'm like this?"
Flash shook his head. "No. She wanted to find you because she has a terminal illness."
"What?" Now it was Bill's turn to be shocked.
"She told me herself. Bill, she just wants to spend Christmas with her son. It may be her last."
Bill was almost in tears. "How bad is she?"
"She seems to be in good spirits now. But I don't know how far along she is."
"Can you . . . can you . . . take me to her?" Bill almost choked on his words.
"Sure," Flash said. "Although I'm not used to carrying another person, I'll try."
"Use this," Bill said. He pulled a shopping cart from the corner of the alley and climbed in.
"Okay. Hang on tight. But first, I think you should go somewhere to get cleaned up a bit. I think I know just the place."
When Flash knocked on the door, it opened immediately.
"Oh my word!" Mrs. Simonson exclaimed. "Bill!"
"Hi, mom," Bill said. Instantly, both were in a tight embrace.
"Thank you, Flash," Mrs. Simonson said. "How can I ever repay you?"
"Just enjoy the holiday, and help your son out. And both of you, if you ever need to talk to someone about anything, just let me know. Just call the League, and they'll contact me."
"Thank you, Flash," Mrs. Simonson repeated, tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. "And merry Christmas."
Flash smiled. "Merry Christmas. Both of you."
"Merry Christmas," Bill said as Flash ran off.
On his way back, Flash had received a message saying that Cap and Iron Man had finished the going through the mail and he should report to the Hall of Justice.
When he arrived, he found Captain America and Iron Man standing in what used to be an empty room with another man. Flash recognized him as Henry Gyrich, the man instrumental in reorganizing the League.
"So nice of you to join us," Gyrich said. "You are fortunate to be one of the first to see my Christmas gift to the League. Today, we have moved these transporters to the Hall of Justice to allow you to access your new base of operations."
"And where is that?" Cap asked.
"A watchtower, on the moon," Gyrich replied. He pushed a button on the remote control he was holding and a large screen lit up with the specs of the moon watchtower. "It's fully functional, and with even more technology than you have here. From the moon, you'll be able to monitor the situation on Earth more efficiently, and be able to serve more of the planet."
"Well, thank you," Captain America said. "I don't know what to say . . . "
"Then don't say anything. Merry Christmas, Cap."
| Next issue: Spider-Man drops by to ask the League for help against the Sinister Six. The fun begins in Spider-Man #20, and then continues in Avengers League #11! |
 #11 December 2001 |
 Christmas Spirit by Kevin Maxwell Click here for Avengers League #10! |
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A snowflake tumbled down from the overcast sky, one of hundreds spiraling through the chilly air, each one different from the other. This one in particular fell on a soft outstretched palm, melting because of the body heat. Clear blue eyes, the same color as the sky hidden beneath the clouds, gazed in wonder at it.
"Oh my God . . . this is too funny! An Amazon princess, who can move mountains, float through the air, and has seen gods and monsters that would impress those role-playing obsessed geeks in high school, is amazed by snow?" Callista Domaine chortled as she walked towards her friend, the thin sheet of snow crunching beneath her expensive boots. A shopping bag swung from one gloved hand. "Although, snow here is pretty rare, I will admit. You'll see tons more where we're going."
"Snow may be rare here . . . but I've never seen it on Paradise Island," Diana replied as she followed Callista towards her waiting limousine.
Callista brushed her sleeve away from her wrist, revealing a shiny golden watch. "Damn . . . Troia's Tienda is having a Christmas sale, but it's all the way over in Maycomb . . . that's in the opposite direction of the airport, and our plane is leaving in an hour . . . better hurry."
Diana slid into the seat after Callista.
"I trust your shopping was enjoyable, ladies?" came the English tinted voice of Charles Wellington, Callista's chauffeur.
"It was, thank you," Diana replied.
"Psh . . . you didn't buy anything!" Callista snorted. "Well, at least not anything I didn't force you to buy!"
"I bought a Pepsi."
Callista rolled her eyes. "More like six or seven of them . . . "
Diana raised a delicate eyebrow. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"If I have to deal with a hyperactive Amazon for a few hours there is!" The limo sped off towards the airport.
"I hate the cold," Callista mumbled. The sky was overcast, threatening to dump more and more snow onto the rocky mountain range, and the freezing wind had already caused her delicate skin to flush a cherry red. Diana smiled as the wind whipped at her body, causing her lustrous raven curls to dance on the wind behind her. "Put a coat on, Di. Normal people don't have Amazon Endurance, and wouldn't last five minutes out here."
Diana slipped into the coat she had slung over her arm, all the while staring around her. "It's so beautiful," she said breathlessly.
"It is," Callista replied, musing at how fascinating Diana found the entire world.
"Where is your aunt's dwelling, Calli?" Diana asked.
"Up a bit," Callista replied, jerking her head towards the peak of the mountain they had driven up. "This is as far as we can drive."
"So we have to walk?" Diana asked, a mischievous grin forming on her crimson lips. Callista recognized the look instantly, and groaned. "Race you!"
The Amazon darted off, running at normal speed. Normal speed for an Olympian athlete, that is. Callista sighed, expelling a cloud of steam into the chilly air as she reluctantly sprinted after her friend. "Remind me . . . are you three thousand years old or three years old?" she huffed, but the mountain winds blasted her words away.
A few minutes later, Diana had arrived at the porch of a good-sized home. She was breathing normally, but her face was flushed red, adding an extra beauty to her features.
The house was a quaint country home. It was made of wood and two stories tall, with lamps lighting the sides of each window. The roof was delicately iced with a fine layer of snow. Panting, Callista arrived next to her. Hands on her knees, Callista dipped her head, breathing heavily.
"Phew!" she gasped, gulping the frigid air. Diana raised a gloved hand and rapped on the door. After awhile, the door swung open, and a pleasant looking woman appeared, framed by the warm light of the kitchen. She was in her mid-fifties, and wore a baggy baby blue sweater and worn jeans. A wild wisp of blonde hair capped off her head, and sparkling blue eyes welcomed Diana and Callista from behind tiny gold-rimmed spectacles. The woman pulled these glasses away, letting them hang from a fine, glittering gold chain around her neck.
"Calli! Hello, how are you?" she cried, pulling Callista into a warm hug. "My goodness, did you run the entire way up here?"
"Y-yeah . . . " Callista replied, still trying to catch her breath. "H-hi, auntie . . . "
"Come in, come in, it's absolutely frigid outside!" the woman said as she ushered Diana and Callista inside her home. They stepped onto a colorful welcome mat, as the oak door swung shut behind them.
"You must be Diana! Callista's told me so much about you! I'm Julia Kapatelis," the woman said, holding out her hand.
Diana shook the woman's gnarled fingers in her own, slender hand. "Calli's favorite aunt. I've heard much about you, and I'm glad to meet you, Mrs. Kapatelis."
"Please! Call me Julia."
"Julia," Diana corrected herself, pulling her scarf and jacket away. Julia hung them on an ornate coat rack nearby.
Julia led Diana into the house. It was quite spacious, but nonetheless cozy, furnished and decorated with an old-fashioned country theme.
"Nessie! Calli and her friend Diana are here!" Julia called up winding steps.
"Coming . . . " a none-too enthusiastic voice replied. A teenage girl, perhaps sixteen years of age, walked slowly down the steps. She had sleek auburn hair streaked with gold, and wore hip-hugging black pants. Her short-sleeved red shirt had the word 'Princess' written gracefully across her chest in golden glitter. "Hey."
"Nessie!" Callista rushed forward and embraced her cousin. "It's so good to see you again!"
"What up? I've missed ya!" the girl replied.
"Diana," Callista said. "This is my cousin Vanessa. Nessie, this is my friend Diana."
"A pleasure to meet you," Diana said as she held out her hand. Vanessa tentatively shook it.
"Yeah . . . " she said, running her eyes up and down Diana, gauging her. "Nice to meet you, too."
Suddenly, a loud ring from upstairs echoed into the room. "Oh, I gotta go get that!" Vanessa replied. She spun and hurried up the stairs. Julia rolled her eyes.
"I told her not to bring her cell phone! Teenagers these days!" Julia said disapprovingly. Diana laughed. "Hmmm . . . Would you guys like something to eat? I have a plate of cookies that just came out of the oven!"
"Nessie, come on!" Callista encouraged. "Going out and chopping down a tree is tradition."
"It's tradition to do it with everyone else."
Julia rolled her eyes. "Everyone else is busy, Nessie. Now come on!"
"No. I don't want to."
"You're coming or no cell phone."
Vanessa bit her lip in frustration. "Fine." She reluctantly complied, pulling on a stylish coat and scarf, and the group headed out into the blasting winds.
"Beautiful," Julia replied. "Diana, would you like to do the honors?"
Diana reached into the wagon they had brought and pulled out a large axe. "I'd be delighted to!" she said.
A deft swing brought the tree tumbling to the ground. Julia and Vanessa stared in shock, and Callista had to stifle a groan.
"Oh my God!" Julia gasped at the amazing feat. It had taken her husband, a fit, healthy man who ran daily and lifted weights, many more swings to bring down their past Christmas trees.
{Diana!} Callista's thoughts flared up in Diana's skull.
{Hmmm?}
{Normal people can't chop a tree down in one stroke.}
{Oops.}
The Amazon knelt, carefully lifting the tree from its snowy crater, feigning a struggle. Vanessa and Julia were still shell-shocked.
"Omigod! You're amazing! Even Daddy couldn't do that! That's so kewl!" Vanessa babbled as her tongue became animate again, and struggled to give voice to the thoughts pouring from her mouth like water from a burst dam.
"My . . . you must be an Olympic athlete," Julia surmised, gazing appreciatively at Diana.
Callista rolled her eyes, which glanced over Diana's shoulder to a large, barren tree. Perched like a falcon was an obscure shape; it looked like a woman, but it was too far to tell. Callista did, however, recognize the brilliant streak of flaming hair that fluttered on the wailing wind as the figure bounded like a lemur through the leafless branches.
"Oh my God . . . " Callista meant to give Diana a warning, but instead came an ear-piercing shriek that echoed over the peaks of the mountains.
"Dammit, Callista! What the hell are you doing?" Julia snarled, glaring at her niece. "This high up that kind of noise could cause an avalanche!"
As if on cue, a distant rumbling, like thunder on a humid summer night, rolled over the four women. This time, it was Vanessa's shriek that tore through the mountain skies, as a seething wall of white rolled towards them at an alarming speed. Diana stared in awe, before it clicked in her brain exactly what was going on. You couldn't blame her; Paradise Island had never seen a snowflake before, much less a phenomenon like the deadly frigid tsunami that bore down upon the Amazon and her friends.
"Suffering Sappho!" The wagon, axe, and tree were hurled onto another mountaintop. Julia felt an arm possessing impossible strength wrap around her torso as Diana's other arm curled around Vanessa. Callista leapt onto her friend's back, hooking her arms tightly around Diana's neck. "Hang on, my friends!"
Diana leapt into the air, soaring up and over the mass of snow. Her legs pumping madly, the Amazon nimbly danced across the snow as if it were completely solid.
"Di . . . it's Artemis*!" Callista hissed in her ear.
*(The feisty, fire-haired Amazon, Artemis, first appeared in issue #3 - Kevin)
"Great Hera, not again!" Diana moaned.
"Di, look out!" Callista hissed. A huge chunk of wood, a tree, or perhaps an unfortunate soul's home, surged up from the snow. Debris was another aspect Diana hadn't expected, and it caught on her foot. Normally, Diana would have been able to catch her balance immediately, but she was running on rapidly moving snow, holding onto three other people and moving at incredibly high speeds. She tripped, but barely managed to launch herself and her passengers free of the snow, and sent them spiraling through the air.
"Callista! Julia, Vanessa!" Diana called, glancing around for her friends.
"Unh . . . " Diana heard a groan. She spun, and saw Julia lying in the freezing snow, barely conscious. A quick examination revealed that she was only stunned.
"Are you all right, Julia?"
"I'm fine . . . " Julia replied. "I'm a tough old bird . . . But . . . Nessie! Oh my God, where is she?" Julia leapt to her feet with surprising agility for a woman of her age, and glanced around frantically for her daughter.
"Diana! Auntie!" Callista came sprinting out of the trees, eyes wide.
"Calli! Thank the Gods you are all right! Have you seen Vanessa?"
Callista frowned. "No, I haven't."
Julia turned on Diana, pointing an accusing finger in the warrior's charming face. "You, lady, owe us an explanation!"
Diana sighed. A quick flick of her wrist removed the mask of Proteus and sent brilliant bolts of electricity cascading over her body. With the lightning subsided, the young, tanned girl with an exceptional beauty and athletic physique was replaced with the living embodiment of Greek perfection. She grew a few inches taller and her skin became a few shades darker. Arms and legs lengthened, each muscle perfectly proportioned. Dark, fluffy brown hair became sleek raven tresses, held away from her smooth, impeccable face by a golden tiara, at the center of which was placed a gleaming ruby star.
"My God . . . " Julia murmured, paling. "Wonder Woman! I . . . "
"I am Diana of Themyscira, Princess of Paradise Island and Champion of the Amazons," the mythical warrior said. "I am sorry to have deceived you before, but if what Callista says is true, this is no time for apologies."
Julia was still shocked. "What do you mean?"
"We have to find Nessie, before Artemis does."
"Artemis? The goddess of the hunt?"
Diana shook her head. "No, although hunting is one thing she excels at. Artemis is an Amazon from a separate tribe of women back home on Paradise Island. They live in a different city, called Bana-Mighdall, and choose to worship Ares and his ilk as their prime deity, dedicating their lives to war. You could think of them as Sparta, while my home city of Themyscira is Athens. Normally, we just accept each other's differences, but all Amazons are proud, and when I won the contest to become Wonder Woman, the Bana-Mighdallians decided that they must regain their lost honor and choose a champion to defeat me. Artemis is that champion, but I defeated her and sent her home, powerless, because of her dishonorable tactics."
"Dishonorable tactics?" Julia questioned.
Callista stepped in. "Yeah . . . like kidnapping me to use as bait!"
"Oh God . . . Vanessa!" Julia's eyes lit up; her fear, her rage, and most of all her determination were nearly luminescent in her pale blue orbs, glowing with a spark that Diana had only seen once before; in the eyes of her own mother, Hippolyta. Her wonderment at her niece's new best friend being a creature from myths both ancient and modern would have to wait. Her daughter was in danger.
"Be calm, sister. Our hunt for your daughter begins now," Wonder Woman said.
"Dammit, I don't see why we can't be out there with her!" Julia snarled. Callista turned up from the examination of her finely manicured nails to stare nervously at the metal shaft that her aunt had thrust into her face.
"Auntie, please wave your gun in that direction!" Callista implored, edging away nervously. When Julia complied, Callista proceeded to examine her styled blonde hair in the nearby mirror as she continued talking. "We'd just cramp Diana's style. She's one of the best there is, y'know? She does all that 'put your ear to the ground and listen' type of tracking. I know Grampa taught you and Mama and everyone how to hunt, but you've spent thirty years tracking Bambi and friends through the nearest woods. Diana's spent thirty centuries tracking the living creatures of Greek Myth. Stop worrying; Diana's thrown it down with Artemis before; she whipped her the first time and she can do it again. Plus, Nessie's tons smarter than me; she has the brains to keep her mouth shut, while I sat there and nagged Artemis until she belted me."
"Wench," Julia huffed, resuming staring out the window. Callista glanced at the shiny old hunter's rifle that was laying across the table she perched on. Julia had gathered every weapon in the house, from an ancient Native American hunting spear to a steak knife, despite Callista's protests than none could do any good against an Amazon.
Callista shivered. Artemis brought back memories of humiliation and indignities that Callista, top in everything from age three onwards, had never suffered before, as well as an uncommon and unsettling fear.
"Am not," a mock-indignant voice echoed from behind. Callista froze. She recognized that voice, filled with confidence, power, and warning, like the growl of a wildcat. She turned slowly, and felt her fear and rage swirl like a tornado within her.
Walking calmly towards Julia and Callista was a tall woman, nearly six feet in height. Her fiery long hair was pulled away from her harshly beautiful face by a golden clasp, and twisted intricately into a multitude of tiny braids that flowed down her back. She wore a metallic bronze halter-top that left her midriff bare, and billowing pale-green pants, similar to what a dancer from some Arabian myth of genies and lamps would wear. Around her large left bicep was a sturdy golden ring. An ornate sheathed dagger hung from a belt around her slim waste, and about her wrists were clamped the silvery bracelets that were the symbol of the Amazons.
"Artemis!" Callista cried. Julia wasted no time, and her shotgun echoed throughout her home like a thunderclap as she unloaded its fury towards the fire-haired warrior that stood before her.
Callista felt despair sink in. Artemis moved with supernatural speed and skill that only an Amazon born could hope to match. The stinging bullets bounced off of her bracelets, carefully controlled to bit into the floor. Suddenly, Artemis seemed to vanish. Before Julia could pull the trigger the vengeful warrior had torn the gun from her hands.
"Hold!" A thin cord of shining gold whipped through the air. Artemis fell back, avoiding the loop of the Golden Lasso. Wonder Woman, moving with the speed of Hermes, fell on Artemis, who diverted a punch aimed towards her head.
"Princess, wait!"
Diana halted. Artemis had always used her title in addressing her, but the insolent, mocking tone was absent.
"Please, Princess, I have come to make amends."
"Amends? Like hell! Where's my daughter, you murderous whore?" Julia snarled.
"I'm right here, Mom." Vanessa stepped timidly into the kitchen. Her face was pale and she was obviously frightened, but a heavy cloak had been draped around her shoulders, and she seemed to be unharmed.
"Artemis, tell me why you are here!" Diana demanded; her lasso whipping around Artemis's body. "I sent you back to Paradise Island to be re-educated by my sisters. You obviously didn't escape; the Venus Girdles negate any powers and even if it was removed you couldn't have gotten past the guards."
"I was released Diana. Your sisters' teachings have made me see the errors of my ways," Artemis said. "They released me, and I came back here to apologize. Plus," Artemis added, "with my powers gone because of the Venus Girdle, I had a lot of time on my hands to read. I learned about a special American holiday, one that I knew you and Callista would be participating in. It is customary to bring a gift, and I decided that's what I'd do."
As if by Artemis's unspoken command, Vanessa strolled to Diana, carrying a rectangular shape wrapped in gaudy red and green paper. Diana's lasso slid down her arm until it was cradled in the crook of her elbow. Her long, agile finger delicately unwrapped the package, revealing an ornate wooden box. Julia rushed upward, sweeping her daughter into a hug.
"Gaea, could it be?" Diana gasped breathlessly as she carefully opened the box. Within lay two golden sandals, and from the heels of each sprouted two tiny, pearl wings. "The Sandals of Hermes!"
"Yes . . . they were your mother's . . . and my sisters stole them. For that I am truly sorry. Your sisters showed me the true meaning of being an Amazon . . . and I have chosen to dedicate my life to showing the world how to live by these ideals. Princess Diana . . . Merry Christmas."
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-Chip Caroon, Editor-in-Chief
