Previously in Wonder Woman…

Hidden from the world is the island of Themiscyra, home to the Amazons of old, and guardians of the Gateway to Tartarus. Legend tells that should a man set foot on the shores of Themiscyra that the Gateway would fly open, heralding a new dark age on Earth. For thousands of years an immortal sisterhood has watched the Gateway until the present when without explanation the mystic barrier started to crack.

In search of a champion to remedy their plight, Queen Hippolyta determined a competition of skill and speed. From it emerged her daughter, Diana; a child born to Themyscira, sculpted from clay and given life by the goddess Hera. With determination and sorrow Diana left her native land on a quest, never to return again, and in doing so became a heroine to all humanity known as Wonder Woman.

After making acquaintance with Air Force Colonel Steve Trevor, Diana agreed to take part in a sting operation against an unknown enemy. Later that night she was plagued by a nightmare about her mother, Hippolyta.

Meanwhile, Asteria arrived on the shores of Greece and attempted to steal the Eye of Graeae from Ettahcandei. The old woman fled for her life with the Eye still in her possession before throwing herself from a cliff into the ocean.

THE PATH OF WARRIORS

PART II

By Miranda Sparks

Diana of Themiscyra was no stranger to the sky, having cut her teeth against her mother’s bosom on the back of a pegasus. Yet to ride in the belly of a helicopter left her ill at ease. Such a needlessly aggressive machine, she thought, blades whipping without grace at the air, fighting rather than cooperating. A far cry from a winged horse born from the blood of Medusa and the salt sea foam, who with a single beat of their wings could carry a rider to the clouds; but such was the way of the world from her home where touches of magic had long been forgot.

She stared through the windows and beyond the mountainous terrain. Visions lingered in her mind’s eye of blood and betrayal. Was Diana like Cassandra of legend haunted by supernatural knowledge, or was it the fermentation of her anxieties, fuelled by heartache and uncertainty? She sighed and continued to idle, finding little wonder in the land called Montana.

At her side was Steve Trevor, and opposite two men in green; military men, near identical in height and build. Their name tags read ‘MacIntyre’ and ‘Roberts’, and were it not for the silent conversation they shared Diana may not have thought to notice them.

Colonel Trevor addressed them through the crackling headset. “Something on your minds, gentlemen?”

Roberts bit his lip, and with a glance dared his companion to speak.

“As a matter of fact, sir,” MacIntyre smirked, “my friend and I have a few questions for Ms. Wonder Woman here, sir.”

Steve turned to the Amazon, knowing better than to speak on her behalf. Diana pulled herself from dreaming and forced a smile.

“Yes, of course.”

The headset projected her own words back to her. Somehow she sounded different. Was that really her voice?

MacIntyre chuckled. “You come from an island of women, is that right? No males of any kind for thousands of miles.”

“No human males,” Diana explained. “Only lower beasts. Perhaps the odd centaur or satyr. But they are not regarded as ‘man’ in the sense that you know.”

The soldier nudged his companion. Roberts looked away as though embarrassed to hear it aloud.

“My friend doesn’t believe you, ma’am,” he continued.

Colonel Trevor barked, though Diana beckoned him settle. She cocked her head toward the pair, curious.

“What don’t you believe?”

“That you’re an Amazon from some magical island,” Roberts said. “We’ve got a Superman come down from another planet, another guy who breaks the sound barrier when he goes for a jog, little green men from Mars-”

“One man,” Diana insisted, “and he is not, as you say, ‘little’.”

“Just one of those things is weird enough, but for a whole ‘Justice League’ to appear in North America, all at the same time; bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“That’s enough,” Colonel Trevor huffed.

Diana fixed on the first soldier. “Is this what you believe also?”

MacIntyre shrugged with a wry smirk. “Honestly, ma’am, all these metahumans, and a slew of government black sites doing god knows what, anything’s possible. All we’ve got that an island of Amazons exists is your word.”

The former princess frowned. Though she wore the Circlet of Athena, the Bracelets of Aphrodite, the Girdle of Gaea, and carried the Lasso of Artemis, they alone were not proof of her heritage. In her own experience the remnants of home grew more distant, more vague; ever more the property of memory.

“Perhaps it is as you say,” she murmured.

Though Steve offered a comforting hand she returned to idling. It would not do to stoke her fears on the day of battle.

No sooner had the panel door opened than Diana burst into the open. The mountain air soothed her, unlike the insides of the metallic beast. So confined were the people of this world, moving from one box to the next. How did they not scream for freedom? She turned to the sun and smiled; warm rays on her skin, and a cool breeze on her back. For all their faults the gods had given them nature, a gift Diana would always cherish.

Steve Trevor watched from a distance, and shooed away the gawkers who had more important things to do. Certainly Diana stood apart from the women in men in fatigues. Her fiery girdle glistened in the daylight, as did her bracelets and crown. The lasso at her side did not need the reflection of the sun, and radiated with its own divine power.

“Welcome to the Treasure State,” the Colonel remarked.

Beyond the tents and regimented forces, Diana absorbed the bird songs and trees exclusive to the region. From where she stood all the way to the horizon lay a wild country largely untouched by humanity. ‘A treasure indeed,’ she thought, before returning to the purpose of her visit.

Moving together toward the main structure, Steve ushed Diana into a makeshift command centre with computers mounted on collapsable tables. Soldiers by the dozens moved back and forward between comrades positioned on each station. It was an organized headquarters as Diana had ever seen. At the far end, stood by a large map of the region was another well-kempt officer with the same badge as Steve. Another colonel, she determined, of equal rank to her companion.

He reached to clasp Steve’s hand and squeezed as though in competition. His toothy grin indicated a friendly rival. “Colonel Trevor, it’s good to see you again.” He then turned to Diana, and offered her the same hand. “Wonder Woman. Good to finally meet you. I’m Colonel James Mayhew. I’ll be overseeing the operation.”

Diana shook his hand with just the right amount of force; enough to show a leader that she was formidable. It appeared she was successful, as he let loose a hearty chuckle.

“What’s the situation, Colonel?” Steve pressed.

The jovial smile cooled. Colonel Mayhew ushered the pair toward a large map mounted to a board. “Not good, I’m afraid. Agency resources have determined that far-right nationalist militias across the globe are collectivising under a single banner. They’re calling themselves ‘The Fourth Reich’. So far we’ve yet to identify their benefactor, save to say they’re well connected. However, intelligence sources have pointed us to a stronghold in this region where the Fourth Reich have started to aggressively expand their North American arm.”

Diana furrowed her brow. “Who are these people? What do they want?”

“They’re Nazis, Diana,” Steve said, as though the name alone answered her question.

“What is ‘Nazis’?”

Both Colonels sighed. A heavy weight dropped in their chests. Steve was the first to speak, and in doing so shared a history that chilled Diana to the bone. He spoke of an ideologue that galvanised a nation against a minority scapegoat, who in turn waged a war against the world he promised to last a thousand years; of a despotic leader who starved millions in camps, and exterminated them with prejudice; of a madman convinced of his own superiority at the cost of all else.

The Amazon reeled. “And even today, long after his death, people would follow him?”

“There are a lot of individuals out there who hate what he hated,” Colonel Mayhew said. “So long as that hate keeps breathing, we need to be there to stomp it out.”

Had Steve been more forthcoming with the nature of the enemy Diana might have been more ready to join the Agency’s cause. Perhaps, she thought, the Agency truly was the force for justice they claimed to be.

She removed the sword gifted to her by J’onn J’onzz of Mars – at first to the alarm of others – until on bended knee she presented it to the officer.

“Let it be known, James Mayhew of the United States, that I, Diana of Themiscyra, pledge myself against this Fourth Reich, and shall fell them to the last.”

Colonels Trevor and Mayhew were lost for words. In their campaign against a ‘Master Race’ they had a Wonder Woman. It seemed that God, or even a pantheon of gods, was on their side.

It proved no mean feat to move through the new world. Where once crossing borders required only a determined course, in the present were official representatives demanding declarations of paper. Though bureaucracy and ‘security’ were no obstacle for the likes of Asteria.

By foot she made her way to Italy, then by boat to a North African nation of Morocco, and finally to Nicaragua by means of rusted ex-military aircraft. The journey was not a glamorous one, but it mattered not if she could move without documents. From there was the simple matter of moving north along the continent, past fanatical guards who posed no threat against a warrior trained in stealth.

The things she had seen; strange people and cultures, animals that defied imagination, and exotic foodstuffs that left Asterias palette in awe. They bowed to gods old and new, and lived inside devices carried in the palms of their hands. Yet all paled in contrast to her mission, and the cries of honor sullied.

Asteria’s sandals crunched the needles under foot. Her legs ached, but not so fiercely to beg rest. This land called Montana, for all its beauty held many unseen dangers. The first lay in its terrain, and the many steep climbs where a false step might throw one to gravity. The next was exposure. Though milder than some climates, an ill-prepared traveler without a cloak or bedroll would invariably be whittled away by cold. The third, of course, were men themselves. To think on them Asteria might scoff. They were the least of her concerns.

Sounds of buzzing prompted the Amazon to refuge. She watched from beneath the trees as a pair of metal transports cut through the air. When certain they were passed she returned to the open, and observed from a distance as they circled toward their destination. Asteria’s lip curled. She had gleaned such technology in her visions; the same which guided her to this place, and into the path of her foe.

Asteria discarded her coat and bed roll, and positioned them at the base of a tree. She had no need of them in the hours that followed.

She prayed.

“O Artemis, goddess of the hunt, goddess of this and all wilderness, of the moon and of chastity; grant me swiftness and cunning this day. Bestow upon this humble daughter the spirit of the apex predator, so that in your name I would restore my honor!”

Removing the xiphon from its scabbard she pressed a finger to its edge. The blade was thirsty as ever. Still she prayed.

“O Nemesis, goddess of divine retribution, the righter of wrongs, she who punishes the hubris of mortals; I beseech thee, guide my blade in the name of balance, honor, and justice!”

Asteria broke into a sprint, strength renewed, in search of her quarry.

By eleven-thirteen hours they were on the move. Colonel Mayhew assigned Diana to a squad traversing the Southern flank of the enemy compound before moving to the main road due East. Their mission – to interrupt enemy security and surveillance before the main strike.

The former princess steeled herself. Were it but the vanquishing of evil she fought for, the Colonel’s report went into great detail. Families and children were stationed within the compound, and nursed on the same hate served them by patriarchs. More than any it was for them that Diana set forth, doing so in the hope of liberating hearts before they set.

For the mission she adorned the color of her allies – muted green layered her usual garb, thus removing any distinction between her and Agency troops. Not only did they warm her during the mountain trek and provide camouflage, but they concealed her status. What alarm the Fourth Rich might feel to know an Amazon was coming for them.

Steve Trevor’s voice buzzed through a device wedged in her ear. “So far, so good, team. Keep moving.” What a strange sensation, as though having a sprite fly up and whisper to her.

Both MacIntyre and Roberts were assigned to her company, and moved in single file ahead and behind. They too felt the chill of anticipation; their breaths still until the moment of combat. Then their hearts would beat with wild abandon, tempered by training and resolve.

They moved in silence, marking traps and locations with gestures over words. Diana remained vigilant as the experts did their work.

Between the trees over the ridge there was a sudden twinkle. Diana remained steadfast, and yielded to the pull in her bracelets. In the blink of an eye it struck – small, but with power enough to throw the warrior from her feet. The bullet ricocheted off the enchanted bracelet with a heavy thonk.

“Sniper!”

The squad rushed for cover. Diana, head over feet, climbed from the bushes. The only injury she nursed was to her ego, though the sleeve of her uniform was in tatters. No matter. Upon discovery of their position she had no more need for coverings. Ripping away the shirt and trousers the recruit turned Wonder Woman rushed to the valley in the direction of their attacker.

“What the hell are you doing?” MacIntyre roared.

The sound of Colonel Trevor’s grin carried over the transmission. “Doing what she does best, Lieutenant. Sit tight.”

With great strides and mighty leaps the former princess crossed the length of three football fields. She all but flew between the trees, over rocks and the gentle brook running the crease of the valley. All in a matter of seconds.

A second shot flew toward her, but she was ready. Wonder Woman planted her feet and crossed her bracelets. The precise, high-powered bullet collided with its target, and though her feet slid against the dust and stone she held fast to her balance.

With a grunt she continued to move, barely slowed up the incline of the mountain. Adrenaline surged through her limbs, driving her at speeds to rival Hermes or the Flash – or rather it felt as such. Unfettered by gravity the Amazon hurled her lariat above the cliffs.

The enchanted rope snaked between the trees above, their path determined by the will of their owner. They pulled taut, and in doing so lifted the former princess from the ground to new heights. Diana sprinted along the vertical face and flew from the edge of the precipice, hair flapping in the rush of cold mountain air.

As soon as she landed she closed on the enemy. There, laying on his stomach was a scrawny man in fatigues and painted to match his environment. He turned, wide eyed, and reached for a smaller weapon.

Even at close range there was no danger of his landing a shot. The Nazi unloaded an entire clip, only for their contents to pang helplessly against her bracelets. Wonder Woman frowned. The assumed greatness of the ‘Master Race’ was not evident in her foe.

With but a kick he was subdued. Concussed, perhaps, but no longer a threat.

“Steve, I got one,” she chirped.

No response came; not from the Colonel or her team. Diana paused, and stared into the wilderness. An ill breeze pricked her neck. Something was amiss, but what she could not say.

Colonel Trevor leaned over the console. “What happened to the signal?”

“Team two’s gone dark, sir.”

The military man stiffened. Prepared as he was for complication, disorder grated on a raw nerve. He drew slow, deliberate breathes, and became an island in a sea of activity. Men and women dashed across the wide floor of the tent more chaotically than the Colonel would otherwise permit. Perhaps he had come to take smooth operations for granted, even among the free-roaming specialists and outcasts that comprised the Agency.

A soldier barked from his radio. “Teams one and three reporting in. We’re seeing movement in and around the compound. Still no word on team two’s position.”

Colonel Trevor balled his knuckles until they turned white. Soon this strike would become a skirmish.

“They’re mobilizing,” he said.

“Then we need to get into position,” Colonel Mayhew responded, already halfway through the flaps of the tent. He directed orders at the top of his lungs, bringing troops into line ahead of schedule.

Sweat trickled down Colonel Trevor’s rigid brow. The Sword of Damocles swung low over their camp. Despite contingencies there was no grace to an operation once cover was blown. All they could do was pray for speed, and that the presence of a Wonder Woman would be enough to win the day.

“Sir, we’ve got satellite visual on team two’s position.”

Colonel Trevor all but threw himself over the station. On screen, wandering toward the brook running along the valley was a black haired figure; upon enhancement a woman carrying a lariat in one hand and a sword in the other. Diana of Themiscyra was alive.

His sweat cooled, and the Colonel exhaled. He should have known. Whatever gods existed she was under their protection. More than that Diana was strength incarnate, the equal to any man no matter the multitude. He was a fool to ever doubt, and knew so.

“Where are the others?”

The camera scanned the treetops to no avail, but settled on a second figure – blond, with old world arms, dressed neither as an Agency recruit or soldier of the Fourth Reich. A closer scan revealed armor constructed of leather and hide, similar in cut and substance to the woman she approached.

Colonel Trevor frowned. “Who in the hell is that?”

The forest was silent. No creature stirred in anticipation of coming conflict. Diana marinated in the ill breeze and surveyed the land. No sign of anyone, least of all her Agency companions. Their absence denoted an enemy more cunning than the last, who had waited for her to act before making their move.

She inched between the trees, leather boots crunching in the foliage, and searched with all her senses. Diana twirled her sword. Mountain cold chilled the blade. The rushing beat of her heart swelled behind her ears – though her fear was long muted by discipline, and dread discarded to the fire in her belly.

A voice echoed from atop a ridge in the near distance. “Hail, Diana, Princess of Themiscyra!”

Did her eyes deceive her? Diana turned to face her sister, Asteria, far from the shores of their island home. The last she had seen of her the now former princess had bested her in the arena, and in doing so stoked the temper typical of her fellow warrior. How strange to see her in this new world, garbed in leather armor, with her thick, golden braid hanging down her shoulder.

Diana ascended the stones by the creek and waved. “Hail, Asteria! It is good to see you, but you should not be here. My team and I-”

Her words fell short as Asteria drew her xiphon. Eyes locked as they did in the arena, seconds before the bout. The warrior nursed the same determination as that day, and more. Much as she thirsted for blood at the best of times, something dark sharpened her stance.

The former princess stepped back to adopt a defensive position. “Where are my team?”

“They’ll live,” Asteria said. “I’ll make certain they are tended to. My quarrel is not with them.”

Diana ran her gaze over her sister. The Amazon was covered in sweat and grime but, best as she could tell, there was no blood. The xiphon glistened silver and had yet that day to taste death. Thank Hera for small favors.

“Asteria, what is the meaning of this?” she demanded.

The warrior turned her nose and sneered. “Queen Hippolyta is dead,” she announced with no hint of remorse.

Cold reality snapped in Diana’s bones, and hollowed her of all feeling. She stumbled, nightmares realized before her very ears. Visions of Hippolyta laid on the floor of her quarters overtook her senses. Diana felt the struggle of her mother’s gasps as if there were her own, and trembled.

“Murder…”

Asteria appeared to frown on one side, and smirk on the other. “It is so.”

Torn between fury and grief Diana found the means to steel herself. There was time later for both. Her fists tightened, one around the strings of her lariat, the other on the handle of an alien weapon. She squeezed for all she had, so tight they might otherwise shatter in her grip.

The former princess shot daggers with her gaze. “How?”

“A poisoned arrow through the neck,” Asteria told her, just as Diana had seen in her vision. The warrior twirled her sword and chopped the air. A wry satisfaction took her expression. How could one be so blithe when drinking the anguish of another remained a mystery beyond Diana’s fathom.

“No…”

“It’s true,” Asteria said. “I’ve seen the wound with my own eyes.”

Diana roared. “Who would do so wicked a thing as to murder our queen?” Such was not the Asteria she’d known her earliest years. Though proud as she was curt, Asteria had always treasured the camaraderie of her sisters, and was noble in her pursuit of accolade; or so Diana had believed.

“Our queen, Hippolyta; maudlin and sentimental, and lukewarm in her honor?”

Though powerless against yesterday, Diana held tight to the power of the present. If she could not save her mother then she could at least bring her murderer to justice. The former princess leapt into the air and swung her sword from on high. Metal clanged against metal, swords locked, with the two women pressing against each other with all their strength.

“That is my mother you speak of!” Diana hissed.

Asteria spat in her face. “Your mother, my defiler!”

“Still your tongue! She was no such thing!”

The seething Amazon pushed Diana away with her boot. One careful foot after the other they circled upon the flat rock as wild animals vying for dominance. Never once did their gaze wander lest their nerve determine an early victor.

“She was, Diana; as are you,” Asteria seethed.

For all of her resolve a chill ran through the foundation of Diana. To live a life apart from her mother was inevitable, but to live in a world without her was without comprehension. Behind the eyes of an Amazon champion she felt the cries of a child, desperate for comfort and guidance. For that reason Diana had to be sure of herself, and to be the parent she had lost.

“What have you done, Asteria?”

The Amazon threw herself into combat. Swords clashed and bodies twisted. Shaped by their training, fueled by their rage, sister battled sister with the promise of blood to come.

Asteria roared. “The queen is dead, and you shall follow!”

NEXT ISSUE: ‘The Path of Warriors’ continues…