Harley screamed and dashed into the bushes, with Barry in hot pursuit. Butler Merkel stood helplessly outside the thicket, watching the two children frolic around in the muddy and wet ground, their feet, clad in inappropriate shoes, getting plastered with mud.
"Dinner is almost ready. I'll go and get you a pair of new shoes. Just stay right here." Merkel strolled away to fetch the shoes, while Harley stuck out her tongue at his retreating figure. Barry nudged Harley and asked, "Don't you find Professor Shearer a bit odd?"
"First of all, he's not Professor Shearer." Harley held up a finger, explaining to a confused Barry, "That's his alternate personality. We usually refer to him as 'Morbid'."
Barry turned to look at Shearer meticulously prepping the meat, and whispered, "It's amazing that so many different personalities can co-exist in one body. But each Shearer seems nice, don't you think?"
A wide grin spread across Harley's face as she replied, "This one is particularly nice."
Pamela, unusually dressed in a mechanic's dungarees rather than a dress, carefully tread through the debris from the garden, wearing waterproof boots.
After a a night of heavy rain, the dead roots were buried in the soaked soil, posing a threat of tripping. Despite Pamela's ability to control plants, she trod carefully. After all, Gotham's flora could put up a fighting with even the All Things Green.
Upon stepping on the cobblestone path, Pamela heaved a sigh of relief. As she marched towards Shearer, she didn't notice the loose cobble with water accumulated underneath and stepped on its front end, causing the water to splash over her.
Shearer walked out from the pavilion, handing Pamela a towel. Pamela wiped her arms and neck, sighed lightly, looked at Shearer through her eyelashes, but without any hidden intentions - just a slight hesitation.
"Your garden is in a dire state." Pamela stepped on the edge of the cobblestone and said, "I took a peek into the deeper parts of it. Those are worse. And... I found something."
"What?" Shearer leaned in, apparently having not heard her clearly, making the gesture of attentive listening while he retracted the towel.
"Those things that you've buried underneath the tree."
Shearer's expression was inscrutable, and Pamela couldn't decipher any emotions from his reaction. She rubbed her wrist uneasily and said, "The heavy rain washed off the surface layer of soil, and I found some bones."
Shearer stood inside the pavilion, opening the door for Pamela who crawled inside, loosened her shoulders, and sighed in relief. She glanced at the meat Shearer was dealing with, and said, "I'm not adept at anatomy, but I know those were ribs, and nature does not create such fragile rib bones."
Pamela tilted her head and stared at Shearer, "It wasn't a deer, was it?"
"You don't seem to be surprised." Shearer continued to scrape the bone carefully and said, "The bones were trash that my housekeeper disposed of for me. Thank you for bringing that to my attention. Next time, I'll ask him to dispose them properly."
"Then what exactly was it?" Pamela leaned forward, staring closely at Shearer's face, observing every detail. She put her hands forcefully on the table, and asked, "You said it was deer meat, but it wasn't. What did you feed us?"
"What do you think it could be?" Shearer asked back, with a slight smile.
"I don't know." Pamela swallowed, turning her gaze with confusion, "I just felt a particularly peculiar force. It couldn't have been a Gotham…"
"You will have your answer soon, Miss. Let's talk about my garden for now, do you have any ideas for the picnic area?"
Pamela appeared unsure, but Harley, now donning waterproof boots, hurriedly rushed in from the door. She sidestepped Pamela and squeezed past Shearer.
Shearer turned his head and asked, "What are you doing, Miss Harley?"
"Merkel plans to make us go and eat, but I'm pretending to run away. I want to see the look on his face when he thinks he's lost me, only to find out that I have been here all along."
Shearer nodded towards the shelf under the table, and Harley let out a disappointed sigh.
She crawled under the shelf, took out a huge chunk of thawed meat, and dumped it on the table with a thud. With a bench stool to stand on and a long knife from nowhere, she thrust it into the center of the meat.
Pamela instinctively stiffened, looking at the coordinated movements of the two, a bad premonition filled her.
While Shearer was deboning, he turned to Harley, "Where did you and Merkel throw away the trash last night?"
Harley looked up at Shearer, blinked confusedly, and then pointed behind her with her free hand, "In the garden, what about it?"
"Remember to bury it deeper next time." Shearer glancing at Pamela, added, "Gotham's storms are frequent these days. Our garden needs fixing too, let's not make it harder for the plants to root."
Harley nodded absentmindedly. Pamela was about to say something when Shearer cut her off and asked, "Have you been in touch with anyone from the magical realm recently?"
"I have visited the inner world few times at the behest of the Master of the Dark Night, Jim." Pamela wiped the mud off her shoes, "They hosted a few balls, but I don't enjoy such social gatherings and haven't been there for a while."
Shearer set aside a completely trimmed leg bone. Pamela's gaze involuntarily followed his hand. Unwillingly, she heard Shearer ask, "Did you know that the Magical Defense Network of Earth is nearing its completion?"
"As expected." Pamela shrugged, "I can imagine the predicaments those in the magical realm faced in the past. But the most challenging part was their lack of spine. The mage named Strange does not have such worries. With ample energy and proper technical know-how, why wait any longer?"
"You have a vision sharper than a hawk." Shearer said, but Pamela did not seem delighted. She still maintained her unwavering gaze on the meat on Shearer's chopping board.
"Do you read Dante, Miss?"
"Not passionate enough to create a book club or anything." Pamela remarked sarcastically. It seemed that she was hinting that Shearer sounded like an avid Dante enthusiast.
"Dante left Hell stepping on the back of Satan, his salvation lay in his courage to trample over devils and use them as stepping stones to ascend. But some people, they are just the opposite."
"Even the strongest armor built for the protection of humanity needs the backbone of the human race for support. Drop the armor, and it's all over."
Pamela detected a hint of danger in Shiller's calm tone. Instinctively, she shrank her neck and looked up, only to meet Shiller's gaze.
A storm cast over Pamela's mind instantaneously. Her survival instinct transformed her back into the linguistic genius that she was. She swallowed, then said: "Whatever you just said must be reasonable; I swear I won't say a thing."
"And..." Pamela cautiously looked at Shiller, saying, "You will have a beautiful garden, Professor."
Shiller remained impenetrable.
"Would you mind joining me for a visit to someone tonight?" Shiller asked gently.
"Who?"
"You'll know soon."
That answer again. Pamela cringed, cursing inwardly. How soon is soon? Would that be before I get stewed in a pot?
Staying here was a foolish decision, but leaving was even more foolish. Pamela propped her hands on the chair, focusing on the piece of leg meat that Shiller was touching, recalling the taste of venison stew from yesterday.
Deliciousness and power could be achieved simultaneously. Pamela unconsciously licked her lips, wondering where they could visit a deer.
In the car, Constantine stuck his head out of the window, looked ahead, sighed, and swallowed the curse he was about to utter. He had to be more civil. He needed to run a bookstore.
"Stuck in traffic again. We might have to detour."
Zatanna also peeked out, shaking her head, "It's usually not congested here, maybe they're working on the subway."
Azazel in the back seat frowned but said nothing, allowing Constantine to turn the steering wheel, redirecting their vehicle towards another direction.
After choosing a different road, there were fewer cars around. Constantine sensed something was wrong. He slowed down and checked the rear-view mirror, only to find that Azazel, who had been in the back seat, was gone.
"Looks like your enemy has found us."
Following Azazel's deep voice, Constantine turned around and saw a yellow-eyed goat reflected in the car window. Azazel said: "To avoid misunderstanding, I should disappear."
"If you want to see my predicament, just say it," Constantine sneered back. "Devils and angels are bound by ancient rules; in my absence of a contract, neither of you dare to touch me."
The low and sinister laughter of Azazel echoed within the car, and at the very moment Constantine's danger instinct kicked in, Zatanna screamed.
"Boom!"
A massive explosion erupted from the highway.
The summer sunset always came and went quickly, with orange, purple, blue and light pink fading beneath the horizon like deep ocean currents. It was a clear night where the moon's halo was visible.
The sky was deeply blue, and the stars vanished behind a silk-like fog. Beside the manor's Victorian wall lights, Shiller caressed the edge of his black leather glove.
Pamela took the pair of gloves handed over by Shiller. She ran her fingers across the leather, intrigued by its unusual warmth and texture, and asked, "What kind of leather is this made of?"
"Lamb skin."
"It feels more like goat skin."
"Perhaps."
Pamela donned the gloves without a word. She had an inkling of what she was about to do but was indifferent about it. What astonished her more was that she didn't feel the expected heat. The black gloves felt as if they'd become part of her skin.
"Fantastic." Pamela looked at her hands and then said, "Can I expect to meet a goat?"
"Soon, miss."
Watching Merkel's car gently stop at the entrance, Shiller sat in the passenger seat. Pamela took the back, and the car started, cascading a series of water droplets, before disappearing into the night.
"Where are we going?"
"To a banquet."
"Don't we need an invitation?"
"Destruction usually doesn't require an invitation."
"Destruction?"
"We destroy one, and then give them another."