Miraculum

by Steph Post

  Daniel’s eyes blazed.

  “What do you mean?”

  Ruby stepped forward and leaned toward him. She was not anxious, she was not afraid. She was also not heroic. This was the moment she had come for and she was going to revel in it, no matter the consequences.

  “I mean it’s over. I mean it’s lights out. I mean the show has gone dark.”

  Daniel’s arm shot out and he grabbed her by the throat.

  “That’s not how this works.”

  “Oh, but it is.”

  She could see the tendons in Daniel’s neck flexing, but she had closed the door against him. He could do nothing. Ruby raised her chin defiantly.

  “What are you going to do? You can’t kill me. We both know that. And you can’t force your way in. I gave you everything you ever wanted. And now I’m taking it away.”

  Daniel released his grip on her and stepped back, eyes flashing, teeth bared. Ruby felt a low gust of wind stirring the dress around her ankles. She didn’t stop.

  “I am taking it away from you. You will never feel human again, because I will never let you feel human again. I don’t know how old you are. I don’t know how many thousands of years you have stretching out before you, but they will be empty. They will be empty and taste only of ash and dust. Because you will always remember what it felt like when you put your hands on me. And you will always know that you can never feel such again. You, who have destroyed so many other lives, will now be haunted by me. I know who you are, Daniel Revont. I know the power at your hands, yes, but I know the loneliness in your heart, too. I know you, do you understand? I am the only one. And now I am shut to you. I will drive you mad.”

  The wind picked up and Daniel thundered at her.

  “This means nothing! You are nothing!”

  Ruby held her gaze steady.

  “I am everything.”

  The room went dark and all Ruby could see were Daniel’s eyes, glowing red. They held her for a moment and then the wind rose up again. With an animal howl of rage, Daniel shot upwards. He exploded through the ceiling, glass shattering in all directions, and then the roof came down upon her. She closed her eyes and felt the rain of glass and dust, small chips of bone, showering all around her, and then the soft fall of feathers, but she didn’t move. Daniel was gone.

  At the sound of the ballroom doors banging open and the gasps and shrieks of the party guests, Ruby opened her eyes. People had spilled out into the atrium, their mouths gaping wide as they looked at the floor, the hole in the ceiling and finally at Ruby, standing in the center of it all with her brilliant red dress and dark hair dusted all over with glass. She responded to them only with silence and a singular smile on her lips.

  Hayden shouldered his way through the crowd, sliding on fragments of glass and twisted metal. When he made it to her, he seemed afraid to touch her.

  “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What did he do to you? Goddamnit, what did he do to you, Ruby?”

  He brushed some of the glass off her shoulder with the sleeve of his jacket while searching her body with his eyes. She grabbed his arms to steady him.

  “I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”

  Hayden looked around the wreckage of the room in panic.

  “And Daniel?”

  Ruby glanced upwards. She had been so close. It had been so tempting. Wrenching herself away from Daniel had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. But she had done it all the same. Ruby looked back at Hayden.

  “Gone. He’s gone.”

  “So then it worked. You beat him at his own game.”

  Ruby nodded. Hayden took both her hands in his and looked down at them.

  “And you came back to me. You went into the darkness, but you came back to the light.”

  Ruby waited until Hayden raised his eyes to hers.

  “Yes. I came back.”

  Ruby fell into his arms. Hayden pressed his face against her, but Ruby raised hers toward the heavens. It wasn’t about darkness and light. It was about existing in both worlds and navigating the space between them. Through the ragged, gaping hole above her, Ruby could now see the night sky. The stars were blotted out by the brilliant Atlanta lights, but she knew they were there. Miraculous. Looking down, watching over her. With her eyes fixed above, Ruby’s voice was only a whisper.

  “And I won.”

  1925

  They say Hollywood is the place where all your dreams come true. Well, I don’t know about that, but there are certainly enough young hopefuls lining the streets here to keep me entertained for some time. These farm boys and ingénues tumbling off the bus with only a suitcase and a pocketful of ambition. They are honest and fresh-faced and fall the hardest when reality sets in.

  I do love this town, though. It is full of starlets, yes, but also backroom deals and palm-lined vistas, secrets and swimming pools and sun. I can put on my dark glasses and cruise down Hollywood Boulevard in my Austin Tourer without a care in the world. I can go to Café Montmartre and pretend to eat Spaghetti Tetrazzini while I watch careers being bought, born and broken at the next table over. I can leave one party and wander off to another. I can roll up my trousers and step into the ocean. I can look up at the enormous HOLLYWOODLAND sign, blinking away in the night. It is perfect. For now, at least.

  Are you surprised to find me here? Did you think perhaps that I had disappeared? Followed Loki and Hermes and Coyote, and fled to the West with my tail curled between my legs? I have gone west, of course, but I arrived here in style. Did you think anything less would do?

  But let me guess. The one you really want to know about is the Snake Charmer, the woman who possesses the Eye of Kakarauri, who can walk through the twilight lands, the only one who has and will ever know my true self. Ruby. Did you think I had forgotten?

  If I dreamt, she would be in my dreams. I see her in the night sky, on the long mountain roads, in the smoldering brush on the Santa Ana hills. If I try very hard, I can still feel the echo of her hand on my face. But that is all. I cannot conjure the exchanges between us, when I became her and she I, and we met on the hallowed plains. I cannot even remember them. They are like the faintest shadows of flitting wings, nothing more than a rustling in the garden. And yet, I would give all that I have, all that I am, for one more moment on the other side. One more moment with her.

  She was right, you know. She will drive me mad. But at least in that madness, she will always remain. I will never lose her completely.

  But what of her, you ask? Not of the madness, but of the woman?

  The truth is, I have no idea.

  The truth is, I may never know.

  For you must remember, this is a story where no one wins. Not me. Not her. Bets may be placed and hands played. A die rolled, a card flipped, a trick performed. But the score will never be settled. The end will never come.

  The game will never be over.

  Read other books by Steph Post

  As always, thank you to Ryan Holt. You never stopped believing in my little carnival tale and now we have Miraculum. It’s been a wild ride and I couldn’t have made it without you.

  Thank you, so many thank yous, to Janet Sokolay, who has been the champion of Miraculum since day one. I promise to do my best to bring Ruby, Daniel and Hayden to the big screen.

  I owe so much to the following incredible people: Jason Pinter, Josh Getzler, Jeff Ourvan, Mimi Bark, Michael Connelly, Joe Ide, Aaron Mahnke, Anthony Breznican, Jill Breznican, Will Chancellor, Alexis Sattler, Josh Kendall, Patrick Millikin, Mika Elovaara, Kimi Faxon Hemingway, Phillip Sokolay, Alex Segura and Rob Hart. Thanks also to my Holt family and my Blake HS family. In ways large and small, you’ve touched this book. You are the stars that have brought it to life.

  And thanks to Vito, sitting at my feet, grumbling for a snack, for over sixteen years now. Every step of the way.

  Finally, thank you readers. You are everything. I hope you enjoyed the show.

  Steph Post is the author of three acclaimed novels: A Tree Born Crooked, a
semi-finalist for the Big Moose Prize, and two novels featuring Judah Cannon: Lightwood and Walk in the Fire. Post is a recipient of the Patricia Cornwell Scholarship for creative writing from Davidson College and the Vereen Bell writing award for fiction. She holds a Master’s degree in Graduate Liberal Studies from the University of North Carolina Wilmington. Her work has most recently appeared in Garden & Gun, NonBinary Review and the anthology Stephen King’s Contemporary Classics.

  Post has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a Rhysling Award. She is a regular contributor to CrimeReads and LitReactor, and serves as a fiction editor for Alternating Current Press. She lives in Brooksville, FL. Visit her at stephpostfiction.com or @StephPostAuthor.

  The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in an entirely fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Steph Post

  Cover and jacket design by Mimi Bark

  Interior design and formatting by:

  www.emtippettsbookdesigns.com

  ISBN 978-1-947993-56-3

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016952315

  First hardcover edition January 2019 by Polis Books, LLC

  221 River St., 9th Fl., #9070

  Hoboken, NJ 07030

  www.PolisBooks.com