Joined: Book One

by Mara Gan

  I was drifting.

  It was kind of like that time Dr. Remy had tried to sedate me for dental surgery and ended up giving me so much sedation that I’d floated for two days. Everything felt… somewhere between wonderful and awful. Ninety percent of me felt like fuzz. The rest of me was on fire.

  No, I mean actual fire. I think there had been some kind of loud noise, and somewhere in there, I think I had been burned.

  Oh, the explosion. That’s right. I had blown up my own apartment.

  I winced. The floaty area was so much better. I tried to ignore the burning, stinging pain in various parts of my body. I couldn’t even figure out where, exactly, it was coming from. Feet? Arm? Side? Legs? Did I even have legs? I didn’t know.

  Somewhere, far away, someone was calling my name. At least, I think someone was calling my name.

  “Meda.”

  That was my name, right? It sounded right.

  “Meda!” The voice was more urgent now.

  A hand gently slapped my face, bringing me sharply back to my body.

  I choked in pain as my eyes snapped open. I desperately wished that whoever it was had just let me float—

  Slowly, my eyes focused on the worried face of my Protector.

  “Perseus,” I said. Or tried to say. I couldn’t be sure, but I don’t think it came out right.

  “Hey, little one,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

  “You came for me,” I whispered. No one else’s face would have been enough for me to endure this kind of pain. No one else could have been worth this.

  But for that face, I would do anything.

  “I will always come for you,” he replied fiercely. “Always.”

  Pain screamed through me. “Perseus…,” I whispered, my voice sounding pathetic to my own ears.

  “I’m getting you out of here,” he whispered, brushing the hair off my forehead.

  “I hurt,” I tried to say. God, I was tired. I felt sweaty. And bloody. “I just… I need… want to sleep….”

  “Stay with me, Meda,” he ordered furiously, his black eyes intense.

  Despite the pain, I had to smile. Even now he was still so bossy. I told him so.

  His mouth twitched but he didn’t return the smile as he gently turned me onto my back. He whispered something that sounded urgent, but my ears felt cloudy and muffled and I couldn’t quite make it out. He stroked the side of my face in a gesture that felt almost tender.

  There were sharp pains in my chest, but I honestly didn’t know if they were from all the injuries I seemed to have, or from the far more painful experience of what was likely to be the last thing I ever saw being the face of the man I loved.

  Perseus flicked out his knife and shredded his jacket. He pressed it to my stomach and I hissed in a breath. The pain stung, then radiated through my body in a deep ache.

  His jaw tightened. “I don’t know if I should move you,” he said, sounding strangled. “Your back may be seriously injured. I’ll call in a medical team.” His hand moved to his MCD, but I stopped him.

  I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t have much time left and I knew it. I may be floating somewhere between fluffy rainbows and daggers of pain, but the fluffy rainbows were definitely winning. I smiled inwardly, remembering the rainbows that had destroyed my home so many years ago.

  I guess everything came full circle, didn’t it?

  “Perseus.” I struggled to take a breath; the chest pains were getting sharper and sharper, and it was so hard to breathe. Every breath I took was shallower and shallower, like I already had too much air in my lungs but I was somehow unable to use any of it. It felt curiously like being an overinflated balloon. “I’m so sorry.”

  He frowned. “For what?”

  “For… making you… uncomfortable,” I wheezed. “I didn’t… want that.”

  “Don’t apologize,” he whispered back, his brow furrowing. He squeezed my hand. “You could never—”

  I tried to take in a breath but choked as something lodged in my throat.

  I fought it. I wasn’t ready. I knew it was my time—that stupid Prophecy was coming true, really quickly—but I wasn’t ready. I panicked and closed my eyes, scrabbling to swallow whatever it was and take in that desperate gulp of sweet, fresh air—

  Perseus covered me with his body as debris crashed around us, and the slight adrenaline rush helped me suck in a breath.

  “I can’t wait,” he whispered. “I have to risk moving you.”

  He stood swiftly and scooped me up. I felt so weak; I couldn’t even hold my head against his shoulder. Everything was so heavy, so hard, so bright.

  What to say? I felt like I had so much I wanted to tell him, this strong man I had fallen so deeply in love with, but I had no idea what any of it was. In the end, what could really be said?

  “I will wear my MCD next time,” I said, trying to smile.

  Really? That was the best I could come up with?

  He dropped to his knees, setting me on the floor as he leaned over me, and his perpetually stony face cracked. “Stay with me, sweetheart,” he pleaded, stroking my cheek as he pressed his forehead to mine. “For gods’ sake, Meda, you stay with me!”

  I looked at him in wonder. Was he going to be sad, then, when I died? I didn’t want that. I didn’t want him to be sad. He’d had so much sadness already. I had wanted to stop that sadness, not make more of it.

  “Don’t be sad,” I whispered. God, it was so hard to talk. I knew what I wanted to say, but it was like my mouth wasn’t cooperating. My batteries were draining, slowly receding into the recesses of my brain. I think the words came out, but I might only be mouthing things for all I knew.

  I tried to touch his face. He glanced at my hand, his eyes wild, then grabbed it and put it next to his face.

  He gripped my hand fiercely. “Meda, you have to hold on.” I could swear his voice was shaking. Through the fuzziness in my brain, I felt a glimmer of emotion from him.

  It wasn’t good. It felt like the Rage. He wasn’t sad; he was furious and was blaming himself.

  I smiled a little. At least that was something he could get over.

  He placed one hand over my fading heartbeat. “Meda, please,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Don’t do this.”

  I smiled again as my eyes closed. I wish I had a choice. I wish, more than anything, that I’d had more time. I wish I had lived in a universe where I was allowed to be in love with Perseus.

  But I didn’t. And my time was up.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  I had never felt so wonderful.

  Curious thing about dying: when we’re alive, our bodies are full of all sorts of little aches, tweaks, and stings that we tend to block out. Gravity takes its toll, pulling us downward, making our knees sore, our feet ache, or maybe we’ve walked around with our backs hunched all day. For the most part, we ignore these things or don’t even notice them. Sleep rejuvenates us and alleviates the tiny aches to keep them at bay, but they’re always there, sometimes lesser or greater, but there.

  But now that I wasn’t in my body, all those aches were gone. And everything felt like sunshine and music and fluffy candy from the circus.

  I’d never had fluffy candy from a circus, nor had I ever been to a circus, but I had seen pictures.

  “Andromeda.”

  I felt positively euphoric. Every breath was intoxicating. I hadn’t realized it was possible to feel so amazing. I was so warm. Every muscle in my face felt relaxed.

  I turned toward the voice. A woman I had never seen before stood not far from me.

  She was beautiful in that ethereal sort of way. Tall, with deep brown skin and impossibly long black hair, she had stunning silver eyes and wore a long silver dress that glittered when she moved.

  I smiled at her and offered her a traditional Galaxian greeting, my hands out, palms up. “Hello,” I said warmly. “I don’t believe we have met.”

  She returned my smile, but hers was sad someho
w. “Not exactly.” Her voice was strange; it wasn’t like a real voice somehow. I felt it more than heard it. It was a warm, friendly feeling in my chest, like the first sip of red wine.

  “My name is Tykhe,” she said. Or reverberated. Or however it was she was communicating with me.

  “Oh,” I breathed. “You’re real.” I was really eloquent today.

  “Yes, I’m real, Princess,” she said, smiling warmly. She approached me and took my hands. It was like putting them in a warm river; it didn’t feel like flesh, but I was definitely touching her. Wasn’t I? “Do you know where you are?”

  I looked around. Everything looked like pink fog; it shifted and rearranged itself constantly, but I couldn’t make out anything within it.

  “Um,” I began uncertainly, “inside a candy factory?”

  She laughed and tiny little bells sparkled. Her eyes twinkled at me. “No, but I’m glad to see your sense of humor hasn’t abandoned you.” She touched my chin, tipping my face up to hers as her silver eyes bored into mine. “Princess.”

  I sighed, knowing she wanted a real answer. “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

  Tykhe smiled sadly. “Yes and no.” She gestured around her. “This is the bridge between your galaxy and mine. We can only meet here when you’re in a special state of consciousness.” She shrugged. “I have… pulled you from your body for the moment, but technically, yes, you have ‘died,’ as your galaxy understands the word.”

  “Ah.” I glanced around at the pink fog. If I poked at it, it swirled and broke into little bubbles. I giggled. “So what’s next? Why are we here?”

  “Because,” Tykhe began, “you have a choice to make.”

  “A choice?”

  She nodded. “I planned you, Andromeda. I made you. I sent you to that galaxy to fix all the wrongs I created.” She made a face. “I made so many mistakes. I didn’t know what I was doing….” She shook her head. “But never mind. What’s done is done. I created you to begin the healing process, but unfortunately, things never go quite the way I plan for them to.”

  Tykhe sighed and turned toward the pink fog. She waved her hand, wiping it away like a window, and suddenly I saw myself.

  I gaped. I was lying in the corridor outside my apartment, but it barely resembled anything I recognized. Had I really done all this with my blaster? Sparking wires hung from the ceiling, and spot fires and debris littered the corridor. And of course, there was me. I was looking at myself, but it wasn’t me. It was the shell of me, burned, battered, and horribly bloody—good lord, was that really how bloody I had been?—lying on the floor.

  Well, not really lying on the floor. Perseus was holding me.

  And, oh, god, the expression on his face….

  I couldn’t feel anything from him, whether from the fact I was technically dead or because he was Perseus, I didn’t know.

  Tykhe turned to regard me, her face remorseful. “When I made you, Andromeda,” she said slowly, “I was desperate to right the wrongs of your galaxy. I had tried so many times before, but it was never enough. I was determined to fix it this time, once and for all. So I made a new soul, one with so much power in it that it would finally make a difference.” She sighed. “But I overdid it. I put too much into one soul. When I integrated you into this galaxy, your soul—split.”

  My face scrunched up in confusion. “Wait.” I pressed a hand to my forehead. “Back up. It’s all true? Our galaxy really began as… as a prison? For Kronos?”

  If it was possible, Tykhe looked almost ashamed. “I had never intended for it to be a full galaxy, but magic, time, and space had a way of growing from the beginnings I had made.”

  I nodded, figuring that was true enough, and focused on the other thing she had said. “And my soul… split?” In other news, souls were apparently a thing? “It broke? So… I’ve only got part of a soul? What happened to the rest of it?”

  She gave me an almost pitying smile and gestured to the scene before me. “Listen for yourself,” she said softly.

  Suddenly, I could hear everything, but I wished I couldn’t.

  “Meda,” he was whispering. “Meda, answer me.” He gripped my face between his thumb and forefinger, shaking me.

  “Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse as he stroked my cheek. “Oh, god, please… please don’t. I can’t… I—” His body shook violently. He pressed his face to mine, struggling to breathe evenly.

  Perseus slammed his fist on the ground and I—floaty me—jumped at the noise. “No! I won’t let you!” he roared, gripping my chin. “You can’t leave me!”

  “Stop it.” I turned to Tykhe, frantic. “Stop!”

  “This isn’t a vision, Andromeda,” she said softly. “This is happening right now. I’m just allowing you to see it.”

  I whipped back to see my Protector as he tipped my head back and pressed his lips to mine, breathing into me, and began pushing on my chest.

  “Come on, little one,” he muttered. “Breathe!”

  He breathed into me again and kept pushing. My eyes welled up and my hands came up to my cheeks. “Perseus,” I whispered. I didn’t want to watch this. I couldn’t feel his pain, but oh, I could see it.

  Suddenly Kos was there, trying to pull Perseus away from my body. Perseus turned and growled at him—actually growled—then turned back to me, his face wild.

  Perseus carefully gathered my body in his arms, holding me tightly. “Meda, no,” he whispered, nuzzling my face with his own. My heart broke and tears rolled down my face. “No. No, please—”

  His head whipped back and a horrible howl ripped from deep within him.

  I cried out at the noise, clutching my hands to my ears and looking away. I didn’t want to hear this. I rocked back and forth on my heels, willing it away, willing Perseus to never have met me, for him to be happily off being a mercenary somewhere, anywhere….

  I looked up, my vision blurry. I couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.

  My Protector, my stony-faced, tender-hearted, soul-wounded Protector who never showed emotion, slowly bent his head and kissed me.

  My mouth fell open a little.

  This was not the kiss of a friend. It was not the kiss of someone saying goodbye, nor was it the kiss of an apology. This was a kiss of feeling, of beauty, of truth.

  He pulled away slowly and brushed the hair from my face. His voice was hoarse, but I heard him clearly. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you.”

  Looking contrite, Tykhe moved in front of me. “Your soul split, Andromeda,” she said softly, “but you are far from broken.”

  I gaped. “Wait,” I said, my eyes widening as I understood. “You mean…?”

  “Yes, Princess,” she said. “You, Andromeda, have a soul mate. When I made you, I made you too powerful for one human body, and your soul split. Perseus is the other half.”

  I stared at my Protector as everything suddenly became clear. “That’s why he’s special too,” I breathed. “That’s why he can see the future—sort of—and why he can control his Rage.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why is he older than I am, though?” I asked suddenly. “And from a different planet?”

  Tykhe shrugged. “Time is different for me, and things crossing dimensions and galaxies aren’t exactly precise. I’m not sure why that happened, but I can assure you, you and Perseus are the same soul.” She glanced at my Protector, still holding my shell of a body. “It’s why you’re so drawn to each other. It’s why you can’t sense things around him or usually, even from him, and why he never feels Rage when you’re near. Soul mates don’t always manifest as lovers—sometimes it’s as siblings or even just friends—but, Princess,” she said, turning back to me with her hands clasped in front of her, “even if he weren’t your other half, he would be deeply in love with you. Any fool can see it.”

  I blushed furiously and ran my hands through my hair. “I guess.”

  She eyed me, humor in her
eyes as she realized that I hadn’t seen it—had, rather, thought quite the opposite. Such was the nature of my anxiety that I second-guessed everyone’s feelings about me. “So, my lovely princess, now that you know, you have a decision to make.” She gestured to the scene. “Your galaxy needs you. It needs both of you, to heal it and to protect it. I can send you back; I can heal the worst of your injuries by bending time, and I can put your soul back into your body.” She touched my face sadly. “But it has to be your choice.”

  I didn’t even hesitate. I wanted to be with Perseus; I could never leave him in so much pain. And I wanted to fulfill that Prophecy.

  I had work to do.

  “Send me back,” I said.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “It will hurt. Most of your injuries will remain; I can only heal enough to keep your soul inside.”

  I didn’t even hesitate as I shook my head. “Do it.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Oh my god, Tykhe hadn’t been lying. Pain. So, so much pain.

  But then I opened my eyes to see the beautiful face of my Protector, and all of it was worth it.

  I’d love to be romantic and say that seeing him made me forget my pain, but that would be a lie. But seeing him definitely made anything I would ever have to go through completely worth it.

  I managed a smile, and I can say it was completely genuine. God, I loved this man. “Hey, Boss,” I said weakly.

  Perseus made a choking noise and suddenly he was kissing me.

  Now the entire universe could have been on fire and I wouldn’t have known. All I could feel was the thrill, the electric sensation of his lips on mine, the tug in my chest and belly that made me want to merge with him completely. I would never, ever get enough of him.

  I thrilled at the contact. I had watched him kiss “me” only moments before, but now it was me.

  His fingers shook as they touched my face. “You’re alive,” he whispered. “How…?”

  “I couldn’t leave you,” I murmured. “Perseus… did… did you mean it?”

  Perseus made that choking noise again and kissed me even harder. He was squeezing me so tightly, pressing me against his chest, I almost couldn’t breathe—but I didn’t care. He loved me. I knew he did. And I loved him.