"Julius!" Shelim chirped over loud music blaring in the background, mingled with the laughter of several women. "Long time no chat. Kudos on taking out Lily, by the way. Always hated the bitch, but don't tell her I said that." He chuckled.
Really, that was the name of the sorcerer who nearly killed me?
"Lily? Really?" I blinked. "I expected something more menacing. I don't know, like… Maker or Echidna."
"Mother of monsters," Shelim noted. "Hardcore name for a villain. Most sorcerers don't really bother with pseudonyms, though. Too much work."
"You're a programmer," I scoffed. "Isn't work all you do?"
"Yeah, but that's fun. The other bit is lame."
"I'm exactly that way with people."
"Or you could just be a raging asshole," he countered, and I laughed.
"So, I take it she's alive then?"
"Despite your best efforts," he said. "You fucked her up real good, though. A lot of people want your head."
Naturally, that comes with trying to kill one of their own. "Artisan part of that group?"
"Who knows," he said offhandedly. "She makes Batman look like an open book. She can be a brick wall when she wants to be."
"But you don't want me dead?"
"It's like I said. I don't really do hardcore."
I hummed, unsurprised. Shelim struck me as someone who joined Artisan's crusade more for the benefits than conviction. I wondered if there were others like that in her group. Lily was obviously a true believer. But what about the other Special Grades?
Observations aside, I was pleased with how the conversation was going. We had two goals for this call: establish a link between Shelim and Lily to give the League cause to press down on their Gotham operation, and set up a meeting for a deeper conversation—possibly getting him over to the League's side with incentives and promises.
A girl with a breathy voice whispered something to him in Russian, and Shelim giggled.
My eyes darted back to my observers. Zatara. Black Canary. Batman. Captain Marvel. All the League could spare for an op like this.
I lowered my voice. "Shelim? Don't tell me you're…"
"Knee-deep in Russian pussy? It's nighttime. What did you expect?"
I was equal parts disgusted and impressed. At least someone was getting some.
There was more whispering and laughter. Shelim even broke out into a shout at some point, all in fluent Russian.
"The girls are calling for me. Apparently, it's rude to multitask. It's like they don't know me at all," he scoffed.
Canary shot me a look I was all too familiar with. The equivalent of: Get on with it. The rest of the team looked similarly put out, all except Shazam. His cheeks were flushed for some reason. Maybe he understood Russian.
"Listen… we uh, need to talk."
"Isn't that what we're doing?"
"I mean in person."
There was a beat of silence.
"You sure?"
I swallowed. "Yes."
"You wouldn't be leading me into a Leaguer trap now, would you? Because I know this call isn't coming from one of your burners or an IP I can trace…"
Well, that took less time than I anticipated.
"You're not the only one who learned new tricks since last time."
"Don't insult my intelligence, Julius," he said, his voice suddenly devoid of humor. "There are only a handful of organizations in the world that can do what you just did, and only one crazy enough to cross Artisan. You seem like the decent sort, so I'll offer you something the rest would never."
"And what's that?"
"Honest advice," he said. "Run, kid. Hide. Hope they don't find you. Because when they do…"
It was hard to miss the looks on the Leaguers' faces. Not worry—caution.
"I'm done running," I said, and he laughed.
"Everybody says that until they actually have to fight."
"We want those kids back," I said, with more heat than I realized.
Batman had put together files after our rooftop conversation, rough estimates of how many kids had gone missing since we made the connection.
Hundreds. Discard 99.5% of the population that have zero magical aptitude, and you're still looking at thousands of children cut up and experimented upon in search of the perfect material to make Artisan's soldiers.
It was evil and sadism on a scale that rattled even me. And I don't get rattled. Not anymore. Not these days.
Batman also speculated that her operation had expanded to Metas as well. They weren't sorcerers, but they still made for very effective soldiers—easily trapped in contracts that made them subservient to the right sorcerers.
Of course, there was no way we could prove all of this. That was what the meeting was for: to get Martian Manhunter close enough to read his surface thoughts. From there, finding a base of operations and launching a raid would be easy. A springboard to bring down their entire organization.
Showing my hand like this flushed that plan down the toilet, but Martian Manhunter was resourceful. Even with a warning, we'd get what we needed.
"What kids?" Shelim said, bringing me back to the conversation. "I think it'll be better for both of us if you lose my number."
The call disconnected.
"Well, that went well," I said.
"I'll say. We just tipped off the bad guy that we're coming after him!" Captain Marvel said.
"We got what we needed," Batman said. "The meeting was a long shot anyway. We can begin our interrogation in earnest. I'll make the call to Martian Manhunter."
I chewed the inside of my cheek and folded my arms. "Then why do I get the feeling that it won't be enough?"
"Because it might not be," Zatara said. "From what you've described, each sorcerer—Special Grade ones especially—has highly varied abilities and a keen sense of the metaphysical. There's a chance he'll see J'onn coming."
"Or his bullshit powers will have a direct counter to it," I said. "And even if he doesn't, he'll probably have other sorcerers guarding him."
"Then we'll have to make sure we don't miss," Black Canary said. "And if a fight breaks out…"
"Then we've already lost," I said. "Artisan is too careful not to build failsafes into her agents. He'll die before he talks. Or Martian Manhunter could just push him really hard."
"We don't do that," Batman said, his voice steely, and I raised a brow.
"But you'll lasso a kid you don't trust?"
"You gave us plenty of reason," Black Canary chimed in.
"And Shelim hasn't?" I rolled my eyes. "I think you're forgetting the stakes. World domination using millions of child soldiers."
Batman's jaw tightened slightly, and he bunched a hand into a loose fist. Must've struck a nerve, considering his choice of sidekicks.
"The ends don't always justify the means," Canary said, and Batman continued.
"We've all come to that point in our careers where we have to choose between taking the bad guy down and losing ourselves to the chase. Those who give in end up worse than the villains they vow to stop."
I leaned against the console. "And what happens in the real world, when there are lives on the line, and sparing some two-bit psycho like Joker means thousands die?"
"Artisan probably started her crusade with a line not so different," Batman said, slowly approaching me. "Empower the defenseless. Level the playing field through whatever means necessary. How long did you think it took before she started justifying mass slaughter and experimentation?"
I swallowed and tried not to let his words get to me, but they did. I had started well-intentioned enough when I went after Black Mask, but hundreds died in the battles, and thousands more in the territory wars after.
On some level, I recognized that I wasn't responsible for how people behaved, but there was no denying that I played a part in the carnage that followed Sionis's passing.
All eyes were on me when I looked up. Batman's gaze was especially hard, his voice harder still.
"There is always another way."
"I hope for our sakes you're right," I said, walking past the group. "If that's everything, I've got a few more things to handle in Gotham. Don't wait up."
I certainly didn't hope for another repeat of Gotham, but I wasn't about to work on League time either. I needed more flashes of memories and skills, I needed more training, and I definitely needed my team ready.
Luckily, I had a plan to get me all three.