Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who kill their fathers!

Peter noticed Lana fidgeting under his gaze.

Realizing his rudeness, Peter quickly looked away and coughed lightly, saying, "When you're working part-time at the bar, make sure Aunt Neal is around. Otherwise, you'll end up with trouble like this."

"I will, thank you, Uncle Podrick."

After thanking Peter profusely, Lana carried her tray and left.

Peter watched Lana's retreating figure, deep in thought.

The mark on Lana's hand was identical to the one he'd seen on Miss Katie.

Miss Katie was a descendant of the witch Elizabeth. Could Lana also be a descendant of one of the three witches burned at the stake?

Sitting back at the bar, Peter sipped the rich beer in his glass.

Lana was Clark's dream girl. He'd have to keep an eye on her.

If Lana ended up possessed by a witch, Clark was in for a hard time.

At the Podrick Farm

"Dad, can I go to the circus performance tomorrow?" Star-Lord asked eagerly.

"They're putting on a show tomorrow with clowns, amazing animals, and a magician's performance."

At the mention of a magic show, Star-Lord declared he wouldn't sleep if it meant he could see it.

"Magic performance?" Peter feigned a thoughtful look. "Well, I could show you a magic trick myself—like my card-counting trick last time. How about that, Star-Lord?"

Star-Lord grimaced. "Dad, your trick was good, but they're professionals. I heard the magician can turn doves into teddy bears!"

"Really?" Peter rubbed his chin and looked at Clark and John. "What about you two? Do you want to go?"

John, lounging in front of the TV, turned and said, "I don't mind, Dad. Wherever you go, I'll follow."

Clark thought for a moment and said, "Godfather, I'd like to go too."

"But aren't you practicing your heat vision?" Peter asked. "Have you mastered it yet?"

"Halfway there," Clark said proudly, then offered to show him.

At the dining table, Clark took a deep breath and aimed his heat vision at a foil-wrapped ear of corn.

As the heat built up, the foil expanded from the pressure.

"Well done, Clark. How did you manage it?"

Before Clark could answer, John interjected, "Dad, he just thinks about Lana, and he's on fire. You said love's warmth can melt anything, didn't you?"

"Boom!"

John's teasing distracted Clark, causing him to lose control. The corn exploded into popcorn.

"Not bad."

Peter acted unfazed, casually popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. "Looks like you still need to work on control, Clark. Stay calm next time."

Clark: "..."

The Next Evening

After a long day of waiting, the circus performance finally began.

Peter took Star-Lord, John, and Clark to the venue.

The grand hall, recently restored after the "zombie" incident, had regained its former splendor.

By the time they arrived, the place was packed.

Navigating through the crowd to their reserved seats, they ran into familiar faces, including Neal, Lana, Officer Ryan, Officer Chandler, and Ms. Martha McConner.

After exchanging pleasantries, Peter settled into his seat, waiting quietly for the show to begin.

Backstage at the Circus

Zatanna Zatara sat in front of a mirror, preparing to rest for a moment.

Just as she nodded off, her father's voice startled her awake.

"Rise, my sleepyhead!"

She snapped her head up, seeing her father entering the room.

"Dad?"

"No more lazing around, little sloth. It's already five in the morning," he teased, ruffling her hair.

Zatanna, her long black hair falling over her face, pouted. "Dad, why do I have to practice talking backward every day? What's so important about it?"

Her father chuckled but remained firm. Every morning, he woke her with a backward-spoken command, and she complied reflexively, as though under a spell.

Her training ranged from escaping straightjackets to card tricks, always accompanied by her father's reversed instructions.

Picking up a lock, she muttered, "Unlock." Drawing an ace from a deck, she recited, "Ace I hold."

"But why, Dad?" she asked one morning, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

"Do you want to abandon Houdini's greatest stage techniques?" her father joked.

"No, Dad. But I can feel the magic in the air—it's all around us. I know I can touch it," Zatanna said, her voice tinged with frustration.

The Zatara family had always been renowned stage magicians, but their true legacy lay in real magic.

"Why do you fear the magic I can already control, Dad?" she pressed, watching his expression change.

Her father sighed, standing up. "You're right, my little zebra. Magic surrounds us, ready to be harnessed. But its power has a cost. As magicians, we channel it carefully through language to maintain order."

To demonstrate, he chanted, "Bugs to light, turn into toys."

The doll on her bed transformed into fireflies, illuminating the room.

Catching one on his finger, he explained, "Other practitioners use artifacts, potions, or even demonic blood to handle magic's price. But no matter the method, magic always demands something in return."

As Zatanna stared at the fireflies returning to doll form, her father warned, "The stronger the magic, the heavier the price. That's why we use sleight-of-hand to protect ourselves."

"Protect from what?"

"From them," he said gravely.

"Who are they?"

Her father gazed out at the rising sun. "The most powerful mages in history have called it many names—the Abyss, the World of Darkness, the Great Shadow. It watches, always lurking."

Before she could ask more, the room plunged into darkness. Her father vanished, and tendrils of blackness slithered toward her.

"Ah!"

Zatanna jolted awake, gasping for breath.

She looked at her reflection—a girl of fifteen or sixteen with long black hair and a refined, striking face. Her white blouse and black evening dress framed her lithe figure.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Zatanna, are you okay?" the ringmaster asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," she replied, steadying herself. "I just need a moment."

"Good. The show starts soon—be ready," he reminded her before leaving.

Zatanna opened a locket around her neck, revealing a photo of her father. Her expression softened with sorrow.

Since her father's disappearance, she'd been searching tirelessly while performing as a stage magician to make ends meet.

Snapping the locket shut, she glanced at her reflection one last time before heading to the stage.

At the Grand Hall

As the curtains drew, the lights dimmed, and the announcer's voice filled the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Great Wonder Circus! Prepare to witness the most astonishing performance!"

The curtain rose, revealing the first act.

"Introducing our star magician, Zatanna Fasbinder!"

Hearing the name, Peter felt a strange sense of familiarity.

...

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