John's Third Eye

==My Third Eye, My Private Eye==

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John briefly explains his gift and its stipulations.

Joanna took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "All right; I can handle this. I came here to find my daughter, and I can cope with anything if it helps me retrieve her. You said you had a gift for finding people. Show me."

"It's not that simple."

"Why did I just know you were going to say that?"

I met her accusing gaze steadily, choosing my words with more than usual care. "I have a gift. Call it magic, or esp, or whatever current buzzword you feel most comfortable with. I can use that gift to track down missing people or objects, things that are hidden from normal view and normal investigative procedures. It only works here in the Nightside, where the laws of reality aren't as strictly nailed down as they might be. But I have to be very careful how and where and when I use it. I have enemies here. Bad people. Using my gift is like shining a bright light in a dark place. It attracts attention. My enemies can follow the light to find me. And kill me." -Something from the Nightside

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You may notice that he mentions his gift not working outside of the Nightside. This is contradicted many times, however, and A Hard Day's Knight eventually retcons the weakness entirely:


Just thought I'd mention that right away. John's powers "only working in the Nightside" is a common misconception due to the fact that the first book states as much pretty bluntly. It's likely that Green intended for that to be a consistent weakness early on, but that hasn't been the case for a few years now.

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Some of the things John sees when his third eye is all the way open:

I braced myself and pushed my mind all the way open. The hidden world snapped into focus all around me. Old paths of power criss-crossed each other, cutting unnoticed through the material world, burning so brightly I had to look away. Ghosts stamped and howled, going through their endless paces over and over, trapped in moments of Time like insects caught in amber. Wispy insubstantial giants strode slowly through the city, not deigning to look down on all the tiny mortals beneath them. The Faerie and the Transient Beings and the Awful Folk went about their various mysterious businesses, and none of them so much as looked at me. And still there was no trace anywhere of whatever had called so beguilingly to Cathy Barrett.

I shut my mind down again, layer by careful layer, re-establishing my shields. It had been so long since I'd had a chance to glory in the Sights of my gift that I'd forgotten all about being cautious. For a time there, I must have shone like the sun. -Something from the Nightside

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---

John uses his gift to teleport to across the Nightside:

I hurried out of the side alley and down the street, till I came to the nearest underpass. People were already turning to look at me as I clattered down the stone steps and into its concealing gloom. I raised my gift and used it to find one particular underpass, on the other side of the Nightside. And then it was the easiest thing in the world to move myself from one to the other. So that when I reached the bottom of the stone steps, I was walking into a completely different underpass, not far from Blaiston Street. -The Bride Wore Black Leather

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One of John's frequent moves involves teleporting the bullets out of people's guns:

And then we both looked up as three large gentlemen loomed over us. They took up positions standing as close as they could get without actually joining us in the booth. I’d heard them coming, but hadn’t said anything because I didn’t want Jude distracted while he was talking about money. The three gentlemen glared at us both impartially. They were the best-dressed thugs I’d seen in some time, but the attitude gave them away. They might as well have been wearing I am a mafioso hit man T-shirts. They looked slick and heavy and dangerous, and each of them had a gun. All three were professionally calm, forming a semicircle to cover both me and Jude, while efficiently blocking us off from the rest of the bar. No-one could see what was happening, and we wouldn’t be allowed to shout for help. Not that I had any intention of doing so. The largest of the three gunmen flashed me a humorless smile.

“Forget the pew-polisher, Taylor. From now on, you’re working for us.”

I considered the matter. “And if I prefer not to?”

The gunman shrugged. “You can find the Unholy Grail for us, or you can die. Right here, right now. Your choice.”

I smiled nastily at him, and to his credit he didn’t flinch. “Your guns aren’t loaded,” I said.

The three gunmen looked at each other, confused. I held up my closed hands, opened them, and let a stream of bullets fall out to clatter loudly on the table-top. They pulled the triggers on their guns, and looked very upset when nothing happened.

“I think you should leave now,” I said. “Before I decide to do something similar with your internal organs.” -Agents of Light and Darkness

----

I stepped past the officer and headed for the main door, only to stop abruptly as one of the rent-a-cops moved suddenly forward to block my way. He was a big lad, with muscles on his muscles, and his huge hands made the semi-automatic in his grasp look like a toy. He scowled at me in what he obviously imagined was an intimidating way.

"Everyone gets frisked for guns," he snapped. "That's the rules. No exceptions. Even for jumped-up ambulance chasers like you, Taylor."

The officer started to say something, but I stopped him with a quick gesture. The day I couldn't deal with a constipated rent-a-cop, I'd retire. I gave him my best nasty smile.

"I don't use guns. Never have. They have too many limitations."

I slowly raised my hands, opened them, and the rent-a-cop's eyes widened as a steady stream of bullets fell from my hands to bounce and rattle on the ground at his feet.

"Your gun is empty," I said. "Now get out of my way before I decide to do something unpleasantly similar to your insides."

He pulled the trigger anyway, and made a small unhappy sound in the back of his throat when nothing happened. He swallowed hard and stepped back. I walked past him as though he didn't exist. I could hear the officer chewing him out as I passed through the heavy main door into the lobby beyond. -Nightingale's Lament

----

The Cavendishes turned to face me, and I gave them my best sneer.

"Your guns don't have bullets in them any more, you bastards."

The Cavendishes pulled the triggers anyway a few times, but nothing happened. They shrugged pretty much in unison and went back to stand behind their Jonah. -Nightingale's Lament

----

A show of just how quickly and easily he's capable of pulling this off:

I took his gun out of my pocket and offered it to him. He gaped at me for a moment, then snatched it from my hand and pointed it at me. As his finger tightened on the trigger, I took all the bullets out of his gun and let them fall from my open hand onto the floor, jumping and rattling noisily. Russell made a high, whining noise, and pulled the trigger anyway. When nothing happened, he threw the gun onto the floor and looked at me haughtily.

“I know you, Mr. Taylor. You might have learned a few tricks, but you haven’t changed. You won’t kill an unarmed man.” -A Hard Day's Knight

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He can do this to entire groups of people at once, rendering all of their guns useless:

I headed straight for the reception desk, Tommy and Eamonn in tow. It was a big lobby, and long before we got to the desk the far doors banged open, and a whole bunch of armed men came running in. They fanned out to form a big semicircle blocking us off from the desk, pointing all kinds of guns in our direction. I stopped and considered them thoughtfully. They gave every appearance of being the real deal, wearing body armor rather than the gaudy uniforms of rent-a-cops, and they held their guns like they knew what to do with them. I stood very still, with Tommy and Eamonn both trying to hide behind me. There really were a hell of a lot of guns trained on us. The men behind them stood rock-solid, perfectly concentrated. They were professionals, ready to shoot us down at the bark of an order. I felt like shouting Boo! to see what would happen.

"That's far enough, Taylor," said the officer in charge. His voice was sharp and cold, military to the core. "We were warned you might be coming. This whole building is secured. There's nowhere you can go where my men won't open fire on you, on sight. Put your hands in the air. Slowly."

"Of course," I said. I raised my hands. Tommy and Eamonn had already raised theirs. "I like your guns," I said. "Very impressive. Pity they don't have any bullets in them."

The officer looked at me. "What?"

And I smiled as I opened my empty hands, and a steady stream of bullets fell from my palms to clatter and jump on the polished hardwood floor. The security guards watched wide-eyed as the bullets kept falling, then several of them tried to open fire anyway. But by then, of course, it was far too late, and the guards all looked very unhappy as their guns just made forlorn clicking noises. The last few bullets tumbled from my palms, and I lowered my hands. I was still smiling. Not a very nice smile, perhaps, but that's the Nightside for you. The security men looked mournfully at the officer in charge, who looked at me and tried a smile of his own. It wasn't very successful.

"Go away," I said to him. "Go away terribly quickly, or I'll show you all a similar trick, involving your inner organs and a whole lot of buckets."

The security force disappeared from the lobby with impressive speed, probably to go and tell upper management that I'd been nasty to them. A few looked like they were going to cry. Eamonn looked at all the bullets scattered across the floor and prodded a few with the toe of his shoe, to be sure they were real.

"You see?" I said to Tommy. "It doesn't always have to end in violence."

"It's still the sensible way to bet when you're involved," Tommy said darkly. -Paths Not Taken

----

Someone in the front rank spotted me, and I saw a ripple pass through the ranks as my name worked its way back. They all swapped their truncheons to their left hands, and drew their guns with their right. Heavy, long-barrelled pistols, loaded with dum-dums if they had any sense. I smiled, a little. Walker must have told them about me, but they clearly hadn’t listened. So, time for my party trick. I raised my hands, called on an old well-rehearsed magic, and took all the bullets out of their guns. The bullets fell in streams from my upraised hands, to jump and clatter on the ground at my feet. As tricks go, I couldn’t help feeling it was getting just a bit predictable, but I think people have come to expect it and would be disappointed if I didn’t use it at some point. Sometimes I’m a victim of my own reputation. -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

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John takes the bullets out of the guns of "forty or fifty" different soldiers:

When John and Razor Eddie emerged from the front door, there was no sign of Dagon anywhere. Just a large crowd who were clearly waiting just for them. Forty or fifty very upset men and women, wearing all kinds of military uniforms from all kinds of armies and periods. Complete with a great many medal ribbons they almost certainly weren’t entitled to. All of them had guns in their hands, though they weren’t actually pointing them at anyone, just yet.
“Followers of Mithras, the soldier’s god,” Razor Eddie said quietly. He didn’t seem in any way impressed, by the crowd or their guns. “The god of the week-end warrior.”
“You ever met him?” said John.
“I’ve kicked his arse a few times, just on general principles.”
“Probably not the best time to mention that,” said John.

[...]

He smiled easily at the soldiers of Mithras and slowly, so as not to panic anyone, he raised one arm. And then he opened his hand and a steady stream of assorted bullets fell from his open palm. The soldiers watched the falling shells, mesmerised, until the last round had bounced and tinkled on the ground; and then they hefted their guns and didn’t like how light they suddenly felt.
“I have just removed the bullets from all of your guns,” John explained pleasantly. “Now get the hell out of here before I decide to show you a similar trick involving some of your less important organs.”
The Major looked back at his troops, saw their morale disappearing in front of his eyes, and raised his voice again.
“It’s just one of his tricks! We have to make him give us our god back! Come on; he can’t take all of us!”
“You ready to bet your lower intestines on that?” said John.
The week-end warriors lowered their guns and turned away, ignoring the jeers of the onlookers, and headed off down the Street of the Gods, muttering dejectedly to each other. That was the problem with John Taylor; he might not look like much, but you could never be sure just what he could and couldn’t do. Until he did something really nasty right in front of you, then promised to do something even worse. -Night Fall

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Another variation involves teleporting all of the dental work out of his enemies' mouths:

“I am John Taylor,” I announced loudly, giving them my best disturbing smile. The people at the front of the mob immediately tried to press backwards, away from me, but the ones behind them were having none of it. There was a certain amount of undignified scuffling. I raised my voice again. “Whatever you’ve been doing, it stops, right here and now. I have work for you.”

“And what if we don’t feel like working for you?” said a voice from somewhere at the back of the crowd. “You can’t kick us all in the balls.”

“Right,” said someone else. “We can take him! He’s only one man!”

I had to smile. I love it when they say things like that. “You may have heard about this little trick I do,” I said. “Where I take the bullets out of guns.”

Some of the mob began to stand a little straighter. Axes and machetes and knives were brandished.

“Guns?” said a woman, who would definitely have looked a lot better with her clothes on. “We don’t need no stinking guns!”

I could feel my smile broadening. “I’ve been working on a new variation,” I said.

I snapped my fingers, and all the fillings disappeared from their teeth. Along with all crowns, caps, bridges, and veneers. There were a great many howls of muted pain, an awful lot of clapping of hands to mouths, and suddenly everyone in the mob looked a whole lot less crazy and entirely willing to listen to whatever I had to say.

“Any more words of dissent,” I said, “and I will show you another variation, that involves your lungs and a whole bunch of buckets.” -Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth

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Ms. Fate was breathing hard, the leather over her fake breasts rising and falling, but her gloved hands were full of shuriken, and her cowled head was proudly erect. Screech wasn’t even breathing hard. He flicked drops of blood from the tips of his elegant fingers and glared arrogantly at the approaching troopers. But there had to be a good sixty armed men heading right for them, and the odds weren’t good.

So I got up off the bonnet, walked casually forward to join Screech and Ms. Fate, waited till the charging troopers were almost upon us, then used a variation on my bullet-removing trick to rip all the fillings, crowns and bridgework right out of their mouths. The troopers skidded to a halt, clutching at ruined, bloody mouths, making quite distressing and pitiful sounds of pain and horror. Screech and Ms. Fate looked at me inquiringly. I explained what I’d just done, and Ms. Fate got the giggles. Screech nodded approvingly, as though I was a rather backwards pupil who’d finally done something right. I stepped forward, and cleared my throat loudly to get the troopers’ attention.

“Yes,” I said cheerfully. “That was me. Now, be good little shock-and-awe troopers and trot off back to Walker, or I’ll show you another disappearing trick, involving your testicles and a series of buckets.” -The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny

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He's even capable of performing this trick while the victim's guns are still firing:

I was actually starting to feel a bit cocky when the men on the furthest edge of the crowd, and therefore furthest away from the pepper, raised their guns and opened fire. The noise was deafening in the confined space, and the bullets went everywhere. Some pock-marked the wall beside me, some hit their own men, but none of them went anywhere near me because I was down on one knee and out of sight. Gun smoke thickened on the air, confusing the situation even more. There was screaming and shouting and general uproar, and I contributed a few He’s over there!s. Just to be helpful.

I slipped easily through the confused crowd and out the other side, ducking and dodging and bestowing vicious unexpected blows on the unworthy. Nothing like a lot of people in a tight space to put the odds in favour of the lone fighter. Particularly if he’s a dirty fighter. I waited at the foot of the stairs to the next floor, until I was sure they knew where I was, then I used one of my favourite tricks, and employed a small but useful magic to take all the bullets out of their guns. The crash of gunfire cut off abruptly, and there was a lot of confused shaking of guns. I took advantage of their confusion to run up the stairs to the next floor. -A Hard Day's Knight

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A showing of him teleporting food to his location from a nearby restaurant in order to deal with some extremely violent street dwellers:

I thought for a moment, considering my options, and I reached out with my gift and found the nearest over-priced restaurant. (Which you are also never very far from, wherever you go in the Nightside.) I gathered up all the food in the restaurant, made a connection with where I was, and it was the easiest thing in the world to bring all the food to me. (Simply a reverse variation on the magic I use to make things disappear.) (I’d been working on it.) Food rained down out of the night sky, hot and steaming and succulent. It hit the ground with a series of soft slaps, and lay there temptingly, while more and more of it fell from nowhere. For a moment the scavengers just stood where they were, watching with wide and unbelieving eyes. It had been a long time since they’d been anywhere near proper food. And then they rushed forward, forgetting all about Julien and me, and fell on the growing piles of food. They didn’t even have to fight over it; there was more than enough for everyone.

Julien looked at me. “All right . . . First, how the hell did you do that? And second, since when did you become altruistic?” -The Bride Wore Black Leather

(Note that this passage confirms that this was the same move he uses to teleport things elsewhere, simply done in reverse.)

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He can teleport all of the weapons, armor and clothes off a group of people, completely disarming them:

I fell back on my standard response, which was to use the taking-bullets-out-of-guns trick. I wasn't actually sure what effect it would have, and so was pleasantly surprised when all the Legionnaires' weapons, armour, and clothing disappeared, leaving them utterly unarmed, and stark bollock naked. They looked down at themselves, then at us, and they turned as one and ran. There were limits to what even trained soldiers were prepared to face. Suzie started to raise her shotgun, but I shook my head, and she lowered it again. She looked at the departing bare arses and shook her head.

"Getting mean, Taylor."

"Everything I know, I learned from you," I said generously.

She considered me thoughtfully for a moment. "I'm never sure what you can or can't do."

I grinned. "That's the point." -Paths Not Taken

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John easily teleports all of the possessions in his coat into a new one:

"You'll need another coat, too," said Pew. "Your trench coat's a mess." He held up a battered black leather jacket with God Give Me Strength spelled out on the back with steel studs. "You can have this instead."

I tried on the jacket. It was a bit on the large side, but where I was going they wouldn't care. I made my good-byes to Pew, and the parlour door opened before me, revealing a familiar blackness. I walked into the dark, and immediately I was back in Uptown again, only a few minutes' walk from Caliban's Cavern. I heard the door close firmly behind me and knew it would be gone before I could turn to look. I smiled. Pew probably thought he'd put one over on me, by keeping my trench coat. A personal possession like that, liberally stained with my own blood, would make a marvelous targeting device for all kinds of magic. Certainly Pew could use it to send all kinds of nastiness my way. Which was why I'd taken out a little insurance long ago, in the form of a built-in destructive spell for the trench coat. Once I was more than an agreed distance away, the coat would automatically go up in flames. As Pew should be finding out, right about now.

Of course, I'd been careful to transfer all my useful items from the coat to my nice new jacket before I left.

Pew was good, but I was better. -Nightingale's Lament

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John teleports toilet water directly into a man's lungs:

"You mind if I flush first?" I said.

"Always ready with a cheerful quip! I do so enjoy doing business with a fellow professional. Makes it all so much more civilised. Heh-heh. Be my guest, Mr. Taylor. But carefully, yes?"

I leaned forward slowly and flushed the toilet. And while Sneaky Pete's attention was fixed on what I was doing with my hands, I fired up the spell I normally use for taking bullets out of guns, took all of the water flushing through the toilet and dumped the lot of it in Sneaky Pete's lungs. The thing pressing into my back disappeared abruptly as he fell backwards, making horrible gurgling noises. I spun round, ready to grab the energy gun, but his hands were empty. There never had been a gun, just a finger poking me in the back. Sneaky Pete. He sat down on the floor abruptly, water spilling out of his mouth, scrabbling frantically with his empty hands. -Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth

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He can also teleport the air right ''out'' of people's lungs:

The werewolf lunged forward, and Tommy and I jumped out of the way, Tommy dragging the dazed Eamonn with him. We moved quickly to hide behind the secretary's desk, and the werewolf tossed it aside with one sweep of a powerful arm. I looked quickly about me. It was a small office, and the werewolf was between us and the door. There was nowhere to run, and she knew it. Her wolfish grin lengthened, showing even more teeth, and she flexed her clawed hands languorously, anticipating dragging them through yielding human flesh. She lunged forward impossibly quickly, her front paws slamming into my chest and hurling me to the floor. She straddled me, sticking her long muzzle right into my face, her jaws opening wide to show a crimson tongue lapping unhurriedly over huge, pointed teeth. Her rank animal smell was almost overpowering. I gagged, fighting for breath, and that gave me an idea. Using a variation on my little trick for taking bullets out of guns, I took all the air out of her lungs. The werewolf straightened up suddenly, her eyes bulging, then she collapsed on the churned-up carpet, kicked a few times as she fought for air that wasn't there, and finally was still. I relaxed the spell, and she started breathing again, but I didn't think she'd be waking up again anytime soon. I kicked her in the head a few times, just to be sure. Tommy winced.

"Oh please," I said. "She would quite definitely have killed all of us."

Tommy sniffed. "Why did you wait so long to take her out?"

"Just biding my time," I lied. -Paths Not Taken

----

He decided not to wait, and stamped towards me, raising his great hammer above his head with both hands. The pig men fell back to give him room, squealing hysterically. And I used my oldest trick, the one that takes bullets out of guns, to take all the air out of their lungs. The pig men collapsed as one, hitting the ground like so many hairy sacks. Hob In Chains staggered backwards, dropping his hammer as though it had suddenly become too heavy for him. Then he dropped to his knees, his great boar's head gaping stupidly. I walked right past him and didn't even look back as I heard him crash to the ground. -Paths Not Taken

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Here he uses his gift to find and teleport a heavy rainstorm from the Nightside into the pocket dimension that he and a few other characters are trapped in, then uses it to locate a weak-spot in the dimension's barriers:

The Caretaker decided the golems weren't working, or perhaps it sensed my probings into its nature. All the earth in the cemetery rose before us, in a great tidal wave, and thundered forward like a horizontal avalanche. Enough earth to pulverise and drown and bury us all. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, no way to defend ourselves. But I had finally found the weak spot in Walker's plan. He'd strengthened the spells containing the cemetery dimension, made very sure that nothing could get out. But it had never occurred to him to stop anything from getting in… I reached out with my gift, and found a place in the Nightside where it was raining really heavily. And then all I had to do was bring the rain to me and let it pour down. The driving rain hit the tidal wave of earth and washed it away. Thick mud swirled around our feet, but its strength and power were gone. The rain kept hammering down, and the Caretaker couldn't get its earth to hang together long enough to form anything. And while the Caretaker was preoccupied with that, I reached out with my gift again and located the weakest spot in the dimensional barriers containing us. I showed Eddie where it was, and he cut it open with one stroke of his godly razor. -Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth

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Another couple of examples of him teleporting all of the rain in a rainstorm to his location:

I used my gift to find somewhere it was raining heavily, and brought the rain to where it was needed. It slammed down, a torrential downpour the whole length of the street, drowning all the fires and washing the smoke right out of the air. People shouted and cheered, and the ghost girls danced joyously in the street as the rain fell straight through them. I tipped a wink to the barker and continued down the street. I shouldn’t have used my gift so blatantly. Lilith would be bound to detect it, and know I was back. But I needed to do something, and I’ve always had a weakness for the grand gesture. -Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth

----

“Do you by any chance carry a gun?” said the Griffin.

“No,” I said, and smiled. “I’ve never needed one.”

I cautiously tried my inner eye again. The Power had shut down my ability to look for Melissa, but the gift itself was still operating. I inherited it from my mother, that ancient and awful Being known as Lilith, and probably only the Creator or the Enemy themselves could take it away from me. So I eased my third eye open just a crack, hardly enough to be noticed, and sent my Sight hurtling out over the Nightside, searching for someplace where it was raining. The metal construct was almost upon us, reaching out eagerly with its jagged metal hands. I found a rain-storm, and it was the easiest thing in the world for me to bring that rain into the conference room and drop it on the construct.

The plastic face cracked as it cried out harshly, an inhuman squeal of static, and the whole form collapsed and fell apart as the pouring rain short-circuited it. The construct shattered as it hit the floor, scattering into a million harmless pieces. I sent the rain back where I found it, and all was calm and still in the conference room.

I looked around cautiously, but the feel of the invading presence was gone. The room was already warming up again, the hoarfrost running away in trickles from the walls and windows. I stepped outside the salt circle, kicked at a few metal pieces on the floor, then gestured for the Griffin to join me. We looked down at what was left of the construct. He didn’t seem too upset, or even impressed.

“One of your enemies?” I said.

“Not as far as I know,” he said. “One of yours, perhaps?” -Hell to Pay

----

John finds a place OUTSIDE of the Nightside where the sun is shining brightly, then teleports the sunlight straight to his location:

The jungle heaved all around me, the trees beating at the flames with heavy branches, while everything else withdrew out of the fire’s reach. Thin reedy screams filled the night as unnatural plants were consumed by artificial fires. But the flames were already dying down, and soon there would be nothing left to keep the jungle at bay. Except…the plants seemed as much afraid of the fire’s light as the heat. I raised my gift and found a place outside the Nightside where the sun was shining bright; and I reached out and brought the sunlight to me. A great circle of blindingly bright light stabbed down from above, surrounding me with warm, healthy daylight.

The jungle hated it. Even as I screwed up my eyes against the unaccustomed glare, the night-dwelling plants shrivelled and shrank back from the daylight, shrinking in upon themselves. Flower petals darkened and fell away, tree trunks blistered, and branches hauled themselves back out of the scorching light. Leaves curled up, lianas retreated back into the shadows, and some of the trees actually groaned under the impact of the daylight.

“Listen up!” I said loudly. “I don’t have time for this shit. I am going to Griffin Hall, and if anything at all gets in my way, I will make it a bright summer’s day here for weeks on end!”

I was bluffing, but the jungle didn’t know that. I strode purposefully forward, the circle of light moving with me, and all the plants in my way shrank back to give me plenty of room. I ran through the jungle, pushing the pace as much as I dared. Melissa was back in the Hall and in deadly danger, and probably the rest of the family, too. Time was running out for all the Griffins. The Devil would be here soon to claim his due, and then there’d be Hell to pay. -Hell to Pay

----

He does this again, this time teleporting the sunlight into an underground mansion cellar in order to attack a high-ranking demon:

“No!” roared Hobbes, in a voice too loud and too awful to be borne. “I’ll see you all dead before I let you go!”

And I used my gift to find the sunlight again, and bring it to me, right there in the cellar deep under Griffin Hall. Brilliant sunshine smashed down on Hobbes, holding it in a bright circle like a bug transfixed on a pin. Hobbes screamed, and Jeremiah laughed. Melissa grabbed my arm. -Hell to Pay

----

Using his gift, John sends Kayleigh's Eye, a "higher-dimensional" artifact, back to the dimension it came from:

I only had a moment to enjoy the look on Harry’s face before someone called out my name, in a loud, harsh, and not at all friendly voice. I looked around, and everyone else in the bar was already running or diving for cover. Standing at the foot of the metal stairway was a tall spindly woman in black, holding Kayleigh’s Eye firmly in one upraised hand. I didn’t recognise the woman, but like everyone else in the bar I knew Kayleigh’s Eye when I saw it. I felt a lot like running and diving for cover myself. The Eye is a crystal that fell to earth from some higher dimension centuries ago in the primordial days of ancient Britain. The Eye was a thing of power, of other-dimensional energies, and it could fulfil all your dreams and ambitions if it didn’t burn you out first. The only reason Kayleigh’s Eye hadn’t made some poor fool king or queen of the Nightside was that they didn’t tend to live long enough. The Eye was too powerful for poor fragile mortals to use. Most people had enough sense not to touch the damned thing, but of late certain fanatical groups had taken to using it to arm suicide assassins.

I would have run, but there was nowhere to run to. Nowhere Kayleigh’s Eye couldn’t reach me. -Hell to Pay

----

And as the woman in black finally came to a halt before me, smiling a smile with no humour in it at all, her wide fanatic’s eyes full of a fire more terrible than the Eye’s…I used my gift to find the hole between dimensions through which the Eye originally entered our world. It was still there, unhealed, after all these centuries. And it was the easiest thing in the world for me to show Kayleigh’s Eye its way home. Free! Free at last! An unearthly voice roared through my mind, then the Eye was gone, vanished, back to whatever other-dimensional place it came from. The hole sealed itself behind the Eye, and that was it. The woman in black looked at her empty hand, then at me, and smiled weakly. I punched her right between the eyes, and she slid unconscious across the barroom floor for a good dozen feet before she finally came to a halt. I gritted my teeth and nursed my aching hand. I always did have a weakness for the big gesture. -Hell to Pay

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John finds the link between a god and the human conduit it's manifesting through and then severs it, driving the god out of the world:

“You have the gift of laughter,” said John. “But I have a gift for finding things.”
He reached deep inside himself, and his gift unfolded in his mind. Opening up his third eye, his private eye, until he could see all the things that were hidden from everyone else. He looked at the world with an unflinching gaze until he found what he was looking for: the man behind the painted mask, the human conduit Mockery was manifesting through. And having found that link, it was the easiest thing in the world for John to break it. And just like that the god of clowns was gone, leaving behind just a man in stupid clothes, with tears streaming down through his patchy make-up. Dead Boy laughed at him.
“You’re not the god of anything; you’re just a very silly boy.” -Night Fall