The Legends of Forever Barry Lyga (mystery books to read .TXT) 📖

us off from using the ring?”

Superman folded his arms over his chest. “I listened in on his heartbeat and scanned his adrenals with my microscopic vision while he was talking. He’s telling the truth. The ring genuinely frightens him.”

Barry pondered. Power Ring was a wreck of a human being, a strung-out waste quivering with withdrawal symptoms. The ring took a toll, for sure, but it was so powerful . . . ! He recollected Power Ring blasting chunks out of buildings, lifting multiton air-conditioning units and hurling them with ease . . .

“The ring is the most dangerous artifact I’ve ever encountered,” Owlman spoke up, snagging the Flash’s and Superman’s attention. “I mean, I’ve played with the Orb of Ra. I tried to work out how to use something called a Gamma Gong. But the ring . . .” He shivered.

“What, exactly, do you know about it?” Barry asked. “Other than what it did to Power Ring?”

Owlman shook his head. “You’re going to get someone killed. Which is fine by me, but not until we’ve saved the world so that I can keep living.”

With a long, confident stride, Superman approached Owlman. “Bruce,” he said, his tone gentle but strong, his expression open and sincere. “Bruce, if you know something, tell us. Trust us to do the smart thing.”

Owlman flinched. “It is so weird looking at you and seeing him . . .” He shook his head. “Anyway . . . OK. Here’s what I know: The ring requires willpower. And fear. My theory is that it’s somewhat alive, in its own way. It . . . it gloms on to someone who’s afraid, someone with a weak will. And it gives that person enormous power. But it’s not a symbiotic relationship—it’s parasitic. The whole time, the ring is eating your will, your sense of self, filling the gaps with power so that you don’t notice. And when you take the ring away . . .” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the Pipeline, where they all knew Power Ring lay crumpled in his cell, drooling and quivering.

Superman arched an eyebrow at Barry. “It’s a risk. But I’ll wear it. I can resist it. Corral its power.”

With a frown, Barry said, “I don’t see how we can risk it. If the ring itself is evil . . .”

“Give it to me,” said a new voice.

They both turned to Mick Rory, still leaning casually against the table, focused grimly on a bit of food under his left bicuspid.

“Right,” Barry said, with much less sarcasm than the moment called for.

“No, really. I’ll use it.” Heat Wave cracked his neck, then stabbed the scalpel into the table behind him. “I’m already a bad guy. We got a lot in common, me and this ring. I can make it work for me.”

“Mick . . .”

Heat Wave sneered just the slightest bit. “I know how to be real persuasive, Twinkle Toes. Plus, this Time Trapper jerk left Zari in a coma. I ain’t about to let anything get in the way of some good old-fashioned revenge.”

Barry flicked his attention to Superman. “What do you think?”

Superman gazed at Mick for a long moment. “I say we let him do it.”

Mick grinned like he’d just been given his first book of matches.

21

Cisco focused mightily—

So, in other words

—and pressed on—

the TV Barry Allen screwed up

—trying to break through—

messed with history

—the time trap—

then re-messed with history

—finding a flaw—

and we’re the ones

—and he saw something. Caught a glimpse. Something new. Recent.

Hypothetica. . .

The Time Trapper had sent something else through time.

. . . dominium . . .

An agent—

who get punished for it?

—of revenge. To kill loved ones.

“Even if they find a way to defeat me, they will lose.”

Not cool.

Panicked, he pushed again, straining with all his might to break free. He had to escape. He had to warn them all. Two Multiverses—what the Trapper called the Megaverse—were in horrible danger.

He summoned every last ounce of willpower and lashed out with his thoughts, willing a breach into existence.

And—

“So, in other words, the TV Barry Allen screwed up, messed with history, then re-messed with history, and we’re the ones who get punished for it? Not cool.”

Nooooooooo! Cisco screamed, and fell backward fifteen seconds yet again.

Somewhere, somehow, he heard the Time Trapper laughing.

22

A new day in Star City, but the same old stress and danger. Spartan and Black Canary dashed down Weisinger Street, dodging around stopped cars and fighting their way through a crowd fleeing in the opposite direction. Ever since Ambush Bug had begun his so-called Reign of Error, these sorts of mass panics were more and more common. But this time the A.R.G.U.S. satellite link indicated no teleporting in the area. As far as the remnants of Team Arrow could determine, the Bug was in hiding as his swarm massed for its attack.

So what could be causing this stampede?

They broke through the crowd into a traffic intersection. Two cars had crashed into each other, both abandoned by now. Crumpled in the intersection, they resembled a child’s set of toys played with too aggressively. Chunks of blacktop littered the area, and Dig caught a glimpse of a familiar blue, coruscating energy field as it collapsed in on itself. A breach.

Near the cars, amid the scattering of blacktop, stood a woman in an ankle-length black leather duster over a charcoal gray suit of body armor. Her left eye glowed, replaced by a cybernetic part that whirred and clicked every time she shifted her glance. Around her neck, she wore a burnished-bronze choker with a bright red light that pulsed with a life of its own.

Other than the fact that the left side of her head was shaved smooth down to the scalp and her wearing of the various bionic accoutrements, she was a dead ringer for Dinah.

“I am the Dark Canary!” the woman shouted. “Scourge of Earth 32! Bow down before me!”

“Oh, come on!” Dinah complained. She had joined Dig on this mission and now stood absolutely flummoxed at the presence of her doppelgänger.

Dig drew his weapon and leveled it at Dark Canary. “Hey! Wrong Earth, lady! Hands up!”

“I got this,” Dinah said