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The first time Mary sees Zatanna Zatara, she’s flat on her back on a training mat, and all she can really see at that angle is a pair of long, tan legs wrapped in fishnets.
Somewhere overhead, Freddy is laughing. It’s been hard adjusting to everyone’s hero voices, but his laugh, at least, is almost the same. That’s somewhat reassuring, even though it’s probably her he’s laughing at. She did get her butt handed to her by Superboy, after all. She can feel the slight breeze as Darla and Kid Flash whip past, and it makes her all too aware that her skirt’s riding a little too high. She wishes Billy had been kidding about not getting to choose the costume. Yeah, she looks awesome, but this is so far out of her comfort zone. All of it.
And the mat smells gross, by the way.
To her dismay, Superboy calls out, “Hey, Zatanna. Welcome back,” and the disembodied legs—presumably belonging to this otherwise unseen Zatanna—start moving in the direction of the boxing ring they’re currently using for “strength training.”
Prior to this moment, Mary hadn’t understood the appeal of long legs and toned thighs. Like, she knew they were supposedly sexy or whatever, but she hadn’t borne witness to it herself. Suffice it to say, she gets it now, and she’s having a hard time convincing herself to stop staring. The raised platform of the ring puts her at the perfect eye level.
She’s not at all prepared for Zatanna to duck down into her field of vision and wave at her.
“Hello,” Zatanna purrs, her voice dangerously smooth.
She’s pretty. Really pretty. That much is obvious, even though Mary’s looking at her upside down. She’s got dark hair, piercing blue eyes, angular cheekbones, and full lips. Her outfit is blocked by her knees in this position, but, if the fishnets are any indication…well, Mary’s in trouble.
“Hi,” Mary manages weakly.
Zatanna smirks and stands.
Oh, boy.
Superhero or not, Mary’s not ready to stand up yet, and turning invisible isn’t one of her powers, so she does the next best thing and throws her arm over her face to hide her blush. Fair skin is such a curse.
“M’gann is going to be disappointed she missed you,” says Superboy.
“I’m not in a rush to get back,” Zatanna replies. Heels click on the stone floor and her voice gets a little bit louder. “Let’s do dinner?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Curious, Mary inches her arm away from her eyes and sees a black stiletto right next to her head. Images from the “gentleman’s club” that Billy transported them into a few weeks ago flash through her mind, and she chokes on her own saliva and starts coughing.
“Are you alright?” Superboy asks, looking concerned as he helps her to her feet.
Zatanna pats her on the back. The outfit that Mary couldn’t see before turns out to be a tuxedo leotard, which is…wow.
“I’m fine,” Mary manages. She’s having a hard time catching her breath, but that’s definitely because of the coughing and not for any other reason. Definitely.
There’s wary appraisal on his face, but then Superboy shrugs.
“Boy Wonder,” Zatanna calls, getting Nightwing’s attention instantly. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to the new recruits?”
They’re in the Secret Sanctuary: headquarters of Young Justice and, according to Superman, the perfect place to train Mary and her siblings on how to use their newfound powers. Superman brought them here via something called a “Zeta-Beam,” which felt similar to walking through the doorway to the Rock of Eternity. The Sanctuary has dozens of rooms, a pool, and ten times the resources of their “lair,” but it’s inside a mountain, not another dimension, so the jury’s still out on whose HQ is cooler.
It’s nowhere near the first place Mary would have expected to be on a Saturday afternoon, but she can’t complain. She’s appreciative, too, of whoever had the foresight to pair them with some of the younger heroes, because Nightwing, Kid Flash, Superboy, and Supergirl are much less intimidating than their adult counterparts.
To be honest, superheroes have always been like firefighters or members of the armed forces to Mary. She’s grateful for their service, but she doesn’t know all of their names and she’s never felt like she needed to, until now. So she’s relieved for a bit of background when Nightwing introduces Zatanna as, “Zatanna Zatara, the greatest witch of her age.”
“Homo magi,” Zatanna corrects, though she’s laughing along with him.
“And this is the Shazamily,” Nightwing declares, gesturing widely.
“The Sha-what?” Freddy snorts.
“Would you prefer Captain Sparklefingers One through Six?”
“Touché.”
“I’ve seen you on the news,” Zatanna tells them. She looks right at Mary as she says, “I’m impressed.”
Nightwing gives some spiel about how, because their powers are fueled by magic, they should understand some of the fundamentals of it, even though none of them have demonstrated the ability to wield it. Mary pays not enough attention to him and too much to Zatanna, who meets her gaze so steadily that she thinks, for a second, she must be dreaming. This girl is way out of her league.
She’s kind of annoyed that Eugene gets to train with Zatanna first, and she’s even more peeved when she realizes that puts her at the end of the rotation.
Stewing in it doesn’t help. She hits the training pad so hard that the seam splits, and Superboy grabs a new one and gently reminds her that that’s what she’s supposed to be trying not to do. This whole exercise is about controlling her strength.
“How old are you?” Superboy asks her after a few minutes. “As yourself, I mean.”
“Eighteen,” Mary replies with false confidence. “I’m graduating in May.”
He laughs, and she tenses, but there’s no malice in it. “Zee—Zatanna’s twenty one.”
Mary’s not sure how to respond to that. Is he sharing an interesting fact? Implying that Zatanna’s too old for her? Three years isn’t such a big age gap. Is it?
“And single,” he adds.
He launches back into the lesson before she has a chance to respond, and she’s not sure whether to be mortified or grateful. She tries to pay better attention for the rest of it, but that’s kind of an exercise in futility, now.
Her next session in the rotation is with Kid Flash, who’s surprisingly sincere. It is weird, though, to refer to someone who is so clearly her senior and superior as “Kid” anything. They run loops around the outer edge of the main chamber, and he imparts speedster wisdom.
There’s a glint in his eye when he warns her, “If you focus on something stationary while you’re running, you’ll eventually start to drift towards it.”
Mary notices that her loops have gotten a little tighter, especially near Zatanna.
“Sorry,” she pants. She’s running at near the speed of sound, but, next to Kid Flash, she feels out of shape.
“Don’t mention it,” he responds brightly. “I’ve probably crashed into or tripped over everything in this room at least once.”
“You should’ve seen…Eugene…trying to fly…for the first time,” she snorts. “He finally got…off the ground…and landed…right in the dumpster.”
They practice smooth stops for the last few minutes. It’s way harder than it looks, and Mary’s just glad she manages to stay on her feet every time. There’s a lot of arm flailing that goes into that achievement, which probably looks very graceful, but it’s better than a full wipe out. She doesn’t need to embarrass herself any more today. She watches Kid Flash stop on a dime, glances back at her long skid marks, and grumbles, “How do you do that?”
“Lots of practice. You’ll get there eventually,” he assures her as the rotation timer goes off. Then he lowers his voice and tells her solemnly, “She’s been through a lot, but Zee’s the best of us.”
She has no idea how to respond to that. As she’s walking towards Supergirl, Mary sees Superboy approaching Kid Flash out of the corner of her eye. There must be some backstory she’s not aware of.
Supergirl has a completely different vibe from the others. That’s not to say she isn’t friendly—the girl couldn’t be sweeter—but Mary gets the sense that she doesn’t run in the same circle as the boys. And, if she notices Mary’s distraction, she doesn’t mention it.
Flying gives Mary the perfect opportunity to observe Zatanna with Pedro.
Pedro’s gotten a tiny—seriously tiny—bit more outgoing since getting powers, but he’s still very quiet. He’s also not the most motivated student, so Mary’s pleasantly surprised to see him interacting with Zatanna. She loses a bit of altitude when Zatanna waves her white-gloved hands and a pink rabbit appears, shocked by both the magic and the fact that it gets her foster brother to smile.
Zatanna didn’t just write him off the way most people do, and, honestly, that makes her even more attractive in Mary’s book.
After that reprieve, Mary sort of expects Nightwing to tease her relentlessly; he and Zatanna seem close. And she’d deserve it, if he gave her a hard time. Agility training, as he calls it, requires focus: something she clearly doesn’t have enough of at the moment. But he doesn’t embarrass her. Of course he doesn’t. He’s a leader—a good one, and she understands right away why everyone respects him.
He doesn’t go easy on her, either, though, and, after being knocked off her feet a dozen times, she starts paying closer attention. Luckily, Nightwing is as patient as Superboy, if not more so, and Mary wonders just how many heroes they’ve trained.
“You’re relying too much on your speed to dodge,” he tells her. “Try to anticipate, instead.”
“Breathe,” he says.
“Watch for when my shoulder drops.”
“You’ve got this.”
The trill of the timer startles Mary this time around. She’d been successfully sparring with Nightwing and almost forgot where she was. But the timer reminds her that she’s finally headed to Zatanna’s makeshift magic classroom. The nerves come back with a vengeance.
Nightwing jerks his chin in Zatanna’s direction and simply says, “Remember to breathe, Mary.”
“Thanks,” she whispers.
She breathes. It helps.
“Hello, again,” Zatanna greets with a grin. She holds out her hand. “Mary, right?”
“Yeah.” Mary attempts a normal, easygoing smile with moderate success. She shakes Zatanna’s hand. It’s warm through the leather glove. “Hi.”
“Best for last?” Zatanna jokes.
“Um…”
Breathe, Mary reminds herself.
“That’s either a very high bar, or my siblings are terrible students,” she replies smoothly. Sort of. “Or both?”
Zatanna chuckles. “I meant me. I’m definitely the best.”
Mary glances around the cavern, Kid Flash’s words echoing in her head. “They do seem to think highly of you.”
The smile slides off Zatanna’s face and the muscles in her jaw jump. “Bat-boy is a dead man.” She shakes her head. “But, for now…chair preference?”
Mary stares blankly. “What?”
“Hm, how about…ekam ti a hcuoc.”
The pair of rolling office chairs Zatanna and Pedro had sat in disappear and are replaced in a flash of light with a plush, black couch. Mary’s jaw drops.
Zatanna gestures to the couch and commands, “Sit.”
She obeys mutely.
“You look nervous,” Zatanna observes, sitting close enough that their knees are almost touching. She’s less confident all of a sudden. “Sorry. I know magic freaks some people out.”
“No—” Mary objects quickly. “I mean, I’m not scared. It is a lot to wrap my head around, though. You can just wave your hands and do…what? Anything?”
“Not anything,” Zatanna chuckles. “And it’s not as easy as waving my hands. Let’s start at the beginning…”
-o-
“So you really can do almost anything with magic, except, basically, manipulate someone’s thoughts or emotions?” Mary recaps. “As long as you can speak the spell?” Over the course of their conversation, she’s gotten a lot more comfortable, and she’s leaning forward, one palm flat on the sliver of cushion between them.
“Yes,” Zatanna agrees, and that devilish smirk returns. “So much magic at my fingertips, but gag me and I’m useless.”
Mary blushes hard. “I doubt you’re ever useless,” she protests, “but it’s the same way for me. No magic word, no powers. Is that—the words—is that like a form of currency? You said magic isn’t free, but is speech one of the ways you pay for it?”
“That’s exactly right.” Zatanna looks truly impressed, and Mary glows with pride. “You picked this up really quickly, and that’s not just the wisdom of Solomon. You’re a senior, right?”
Given that she’s still most definitely in superhero form, Mary isn’t sure how Zatanna knows that. They didn’t even tell Superman or Batman their exact ages.
Unless…
“When you said you can sense magic—Can you also sense…?”
“Magic users?” Zatanna infers. “Yes. I can tell that your powers are fueled by magic and that that magic is thousands of years old, but you’re only approximately 18. And I could probably revert you to human form, if I wanted to.”
Mary rears back.
“I won’t,” Zatanna assures her hurriedly. “Not without your permission.” She frowns, then admits, “I specifically asked Nightwing to bring me in on this.”
“What? Why?”
“He mentioned he was going to be training you. And…the truth is, I used to live here. Like, here here.” She gestures overhead, and her expression clouds for a moment. “I don’t come back much. Not that the people here weren’t great—they’re still some of my closest friends—but I was going through some stuff, so…bad memories, you know? That’s a story for another time.
“Anyway, that’s why Nightwing was planning to ask somebody else to handle the magic aspect of your training. But, like I said, I saw you on the news, and you made quite an impression, so here I am.”
As curious as she is about that other story, Mary puts those questions aside and asks, “Wait. You’re here because you wanted to meet me?”
“Yes.”
“And my siblings?”
“They’re cute kids, but no. Just you.”
“Um, not to sound like a broken record, but why? I’m not…I’m not anything special. Not really. I’m not strong or fast. I don’t even look like, like this.”
Zatanna smiles softly. “Oh, you’re definitely special, Mary. You don’t end up with powers like yours without being some kind of special. I’m not entirely sure what it is, yet, but there’s something about you, underneath the alter ego, and that’s what brought me here. Not looks. Not powers.
“As for the chronokinesis…” She strokes a single finger down Mary’s jaw to her chin. “I wouldn’t mind a younger face. You’re actually a little old for me like this.”
“Can’t handle an older woman, Zee?” Nightwing asks, leaning over the back of the couch.
Mary jumps about ten feet. And hovers there for a second, because, you know, she can fly now.
Placing a reassuring hand on Mary’s shoulder, Zatanna glares at Nightwing and huffs, “Sorry. He does that a lot.”
“Scares the crap out of people?”
“And forgets to mind his own business.”
“Sorry, Mary,” Nightwing laughs. “Guess you didn’t hear the timer?”
She looks up at the clock and sees that her time is, in fact, up. Before she can think of a suave way to ask Zatanna to stay and talk a little longer, Nightwing says, “Come on. Time for a tour.”
They reconvene with the others in the center of the room, and Darla tugs on Mary’s cape. “Kid Flash says they have a spaceship,” she exclaims as Mary attempts to regain her footing.
“That sounds very cool,” Mary says. “Just remember to ask before you touch anything, okay?”
“Okay!” Darla shouts, already zipping eagerly towards the front.
Thankfully, her family is too excited about exploring the Sanctuary to pay much attention to Mary, so she’s able to linger at the back of the pack with Zatanna and have a semi-private conversation. Nightwing hesitates when they fall behind, but Zatanna waves him off, and he joins Kid Flash, Designtated Tour Guide, at the front.
“So,” Zatanna says, running her fingers along the counter as they pass through the kitchen. “You were saying before that you’re in high school?”
“You brought that up, actually,” Mary counters in a tone of fake annoyance. “Multiple times, now. Yeah, I’m in high school. I am graduating in a few months, though.”
Zatanna holds up her hands in protest. “Hey, your body’s, like, twice my age at the moment. You can’t blame me for wanting to be sure.” She notices the thin layer of dust on her gloved fingertips and wrinkles her nose. “Gross. Ydit pu.”
Glittering light swirls around the room. When it fades, the counters are left sparkling and the dirty dishes have vanished from the sink. “Thanks, Zee,” shouts a red and white blur.
“Have you submitted any college applications, yet?”
“Yeah.” Mary hesitates. “I got in early decision, actually. To Caltech.”
Zatanna grins widely. “Ooh, very smart. I like that.” She sidesteps the enormous, white dog sleeping on the floor of the rec room. “Caltech’s a great school. And I live in LA, by the way. So, that’s a plus.”
“I might not go.”
With all the chaos lately, Mary hasn’t really talked this through with anyone. She told Rosa and Victor earlier this week that she was having second thoughts, but she’s been avoiding their attempts at further conversation. Billy didn’t mean to, she knows that, but what he said just made her feel even worse about it.
“You applied early decision to a school you don’t want to go to?” Zatanna asks.
“I want to go. It’s my first choice. I just don’t want to leave my family. They need me.”
They’re halfway up the stairs, and Zatanna pauses on the landing and looks Mary in the eyes. “That’s very admirable,” she says earnestly. “It is. But, believe me, all they need is emotional availability. I’m sure they’ll miss seeing you every day, but they don’t need that. Between Zeta-Beam transport and your powers, you’ll never be more than a few seconds away for the important stuff. That’s more than enough.”
She continues up the stairs and Mary follows.
“I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way,” Mary says.
Up ahead, Kid Flash is announcing, “We’ve got lots of rooms, if you ever need to crash.”
Zatanna hesitates in front of a closed, unmarked door and slowly pushes it open. “This was my room,” she explains. Her voice is thin and much younger sounding. She flips on the light to reveal a bedroom that Mary can easily picture a teenaged version of Zatanna living in. There are three posters on the walls: one an old-timey magic show flyer and two for girl bands that Mary’s never heard of. On the bedside table is a simple picture fame, which Zatanna picks up without really looking at it. She sighs. “It’s just like I left it. M’gann and Co—Superboy wanted me to feel like I always had a home to come back to, if I needed it.”
“Are you okay?” Mary wonders, touching Zatanna’s arm lightly. “Are you sure you want to be in here?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Dinah would probably say this is healthy or something.”
“Dinah?”
Zatanna laughs humorlessly and sits down on the midnight blue comforter of the twin bed, gesturing for Mary to join her. “Dinah’s a member of the Justice League. She was also our liaison, when I lived here, and the team shrink, more or less.”
“I get it,” Mary offers gently. “My first group home wasn’t terrible, but I was in a bad place emotionally—new to the system and everything. It’s only a few miles from where I live now, but I haven’t been back to that neighborhood since the day I left.”
With wary consideration in her icy blue eyes, Zatanna studies her. Mary sits still and tries to make her expression as open as possible. She’s been in the system a long time, now, and she knows that look. It’s the look of someone who’s thinking about sharing something deeply personal.
The moment stretches across several silent seconds.
“Your parents—”
“Were abusive,” Mary says quickly. They could be dead now, for all she knows, but that’s not why she became a foster kid. “I ran away when I was seven. CPS caught up with me pretty quick. Only took a couple of placements to find my family.”
The light overhead flickers.
“There’s this helmet,” Zatanna says quietly, “an ancient magical artifact called the Helmet of Fate, originally worn by the Lord of Order Nabu. His essence still resides inside it, and he transforms anyone who wears it into the powerful supernatural entity Doctor Fate. But, as long as the host is wearing the Helmet, their soul can only observe while Nabu controls their body. Immense power in exchange for complete loss of control.”
“I’ve heard of Doctor Fate,” Mary says. She’s not sure where this is going, but she can tell Zatanna needs a second, so she shares the only thing she remembers from that unit in history class. “He was a member of that other team, right? The Justice League of America.”
The expression on Zatanna’s face is a combination of fondness and regret. “Yes. Kent Nelson served as Doctor Fate with the JLA for many years until he went into retirement. He took off the Helmet, and it went unworn for decades, until this…pain in the ass demon kid Klarion kidnapped him and tried to steal it. It was my first mission. Mr. Nelson died during the fight.”
“Oh,” Mary murmurs.
“He was old and ready to move on, but…” Zatanna swallows hard and continues. “We had a few run-ins with Klarion, and some of us had to put on the Helmet to defeat him. But Nabu was angry about all those years he’d been trapped in the Helmet without a host when he should’ve been keeping agents of Chaos like Klarion at bay. He controls the host body, so, unless he willingly takes off the Helmet…
“He let Kid Flash and Aqualad go. They weren’t the most suitable hosts. But I’m innately magical—the perfect conduit for Nabu’s power—so he refused to release me until my father promised to take my place and wear the Helmet. I only get to see my father for one hour every year. The rest of the time, Doctor Fate is in control.”
Mary’s eyes are blurry with unshed tears, but that’s nothing compared to the waterworks beside her. “Oh, Zatanna,” she murmurs, lifting her palm to the girl’s cheek and brushing away the tear tracks with her thumb. “I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”
It’s a familiar gesture, but the mood shifts when Zatanna tilts her head up and looks into Mary’s eyes. Mary’s heart starts to race, and butterflies flutter through her stomach.
“Ahem.”
Both girls look up to see Superboy standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“I thought you might want a heads up that they’re almost done with the tour. We’ll distract them as long as we can, but your absence has been noticed.”
“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry,” Mary apologizes. “I hope they haven’t been too much trouble?”
Superboy smiles and shakes his head. “It’s no problem. They’re good kids.”
“We’ll be right down,” Zatanna says. Her eyes are still a little puffy, but her voice is strong and clear and and almost convincingly casual. “I was just showing Mary some old pictures.” She holds up the frame that’s been in her hands this whole time.
“We were so young,” he laughs and turns to go. “I’ll see you two downstairs.”
Mary squints at the photograph as Zatanna sets it down on the bedside table. It features half a dozen uniformed teenagers, and she picks out a few familiar faces. “Wait,” she says, “you’re a lot younger here, but he looks exactly the same.”
“A perk of being a Kryptonian clone,” Zatanna shrugs. “Or a downside, depending on how you look at it. Ready to go back down?” she asks. “Now that I look like a mess.”
“You’re beautiful,” Mary blurts out. Zatanna’s whole face lights up, and, before she can lose her nerve, Mary stands up, faces her, and whispers, “Shazam.”
Zatanna’s eyes go wide.
“So.” Mary shoves her hands in her pockets. “This is me.”
What follows is a moment of anticipation that’s even more terrifying than when the physical embodiment of gluttony was about to eat her. The courage of Achilles would really come in handy right about now. Mary’s ready to explode by the time Zatanna opens her mouth.
“I know I said I’m interested in your personality and I don’t care that you’re hot, but…” Zatanna’s dark gaze rakes over her in a way that makes Mary shiver and feel warm at the same time. “…it is definitely a plus. Can I see your phone?”
Mary pulls her cellphone from her pocket, wondering absently for the first time where her stuff goes when she’s in hero form, and hands it over to Zatanna, who immediately hands it back to her. Mary frowns, bewildered.
“It’s locked,” Zatanna chuckles. “We already established that my magical abilities don’t include mind reading.”
“Lucky for me,” Mary notes with a laugh as she taps out her passcode. “Try it now.”
Snickering, Zatanna dials a number and hits the call button. She returns Mary’s phone, fishes her own out of an inside pocket of her tailcoat, and accepts the call. “Now you have my number,” she says into the phone before hanging up and pocketing it once more. Then, she stands up, braces a hand on Mary’s shoulder, and leans in to whisper in her ear, “Use it.”
By the time Mary’s brain finishes rebooting, Zatanna is already out the door and striding towards the stairwell. Mary jogs after her and mutters, “Shazam,” just before they descend the last step.
Everyone’s waiting for them by the Zeta-Beam transport point.
“Mary!” Darla shouts, launching herself into Mary’s arms.
“Oof, Darla,” Mary chides, “try to remember that you’re the same size as me in this form.”
The girl pouts but takes a step back and asks, “Where did you go?”
“Um…” Mary blinks and shifts nervously. “Zatanna and I were just talking. About magic. You know, more about how it works. And stuff.”
“Yeah,” Freddy snickers, “sure. “Talking.” I bet it was magical, all right.”
Billy isn’t able to hold back a snort of laughter, but he does elbow Freddy into silence, and the effort is much appreciated.
Blushing, Mary herds her siblings through the Zeta-Beams. At the last second, she turns around to wave and smile at Zatanna.
The moment she’s on the other side of the beam, back in a dirty alley in Philly, she depowers and pulls out her phone. Amidst the pops and cracks of lightning as everyone else follows suit, she saves a new number to her contacts. She nearly jumps out of her skin when she notices Billy, still in hero form, looking over her shoulder. The taller-than-her thing is incredibly inconvenient.
“Got the digits?” he whispers. “Nice.”
-o-
At dinner that night, she very nonchalantly says, “I think I’ve decided to go to Caltech, after all.”