Medusa in the Graveyard (The Medusa Cycle)

by Devenport, Emily

  “Who are you talking to?” said Ashur from the next stall.

  “The Powers That Be,” I replied.

  “Will you ask them if they can please send the next clue along?”

  “Sure. Hey, Powers That Be, we’d like a clue.”

  “I’d like written directions!” called Kitten.”

  “I’d like a good supper and a hot shower,” added Ahi.

  None of those things appeared. We finished our business, splashed our faces, filled our bottles, and wandered outside again. Nothing moved out there. No one hailed us from any of the buildings.

  “How long do you think it’s been since anyone lived here?” Ashur asked Ahi.

  She shrugged. “Five minutes. Or five hundred years. I’m not sure there’s any difference.”

  I knew what she meant. The place felt recently abandoned.

  “I think we should keep walking,” said Ahi. “I get the feeling we shouldn’t stay here.”

  I felt tired, but I liked the idea of moving on, at least for a while. So we walked on the edge of town. We studied the buildings as we passed them—and maybe they studied us, too. Most of them had at least two stories—some had as many as seven. I didn’t see much logic to the way they were arranged, and I also got the feeling that parts of Evernight had been built at different times, for completely different reasons.

  Whatever the reasons, Evernight didn’t welcome us. Each door was locked, each window shuttered. Move on, they seemed to say, you’ve got no business here. The feeling was so pervasive, I came to expect that standoffishness, even to appreciate it—because I didn’t want to know what had chased people out of this peculiar outpost in the middle of a wilderness. Maybe that’s why I gasped when I saw something I didn’t expect.

  A door stood open, light spilling from the room behind it. I don’t know why the sight struck me with such alarm, but it spooked me like one of the scenes out of The Haunting, like when they find the door to the creepy nursery standing open when it was supposed to be locked up tight. Something wants us to go in there, I thought, determined never to do so.

  “If someone built this place on purpose,” said Ashur, “I can see why they decided not to stay here.”

  “If that’s what they decided,” said Ahi. “If something else didn’t make the choice for them.”

  The town stretched for half a kilometer. Behind it loomed the massive staircase whose forbidding scarps kept us from climbing up to the South Rim. If we had been desperate and very foolish, we might have climbed switchbacks that crawled partway up, but in what era would we emerge? Sometime prior to the arrival of the Three?

  That obstacle lay at our backs. Instead, we looked across a northern stretch of the sandstone ledge, a small desert inside the canyon. Lights from the town stretched and distorted the shadows of plants with tough skins and sharp spines. Ahi peered at a spot in the distance, where the sky met the top of the North Rim. Something sparkled there.

  “Those are stars,” said Ahi. “I wonder if we’re supposed to go that way.”

  “Shouldn’t we camp for the night?” I felt exhausted, but we had been sent to Evernight. There had to be a reason.

  She looked over her shoulder at the town, then back again at her beacon of starlight. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “My head says something wants us in Evernight, but my heart keeps telling me to get out of here. What do you guys think?”

  I took a deep breath and let it out again. “I hate to think about sleeping in one of those buildings. Maybe we could camp in the bathroom? It doesn’t seem so bad.”

  “I can’t make up my mind,” said Kitten. “I’m sorry. I’ll go with the consensus.”

  “Me, too,” said Dragonette. “I’d like to have an opinion, but I can’t.”

  Everyone looked at Ashur. He didn’t seem troubled by the responsibility. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t have to think twice about it.”

  Ahi sighed. “Let me suggest a compromise. Let’s walk some distance into this desert, toward the stars. If they keep shining, if we seem to be getting somewhere, we’ll keep going. If not, we’ll turn around and head back to the bathroom. Deal?”

  “Deal,” we all agreed, and for a moment, my heart felt light. We had a plan!

  Then Ahi set one foot into the desert, and a blue light exploded over the horizon.

  “What the—?” Ashur started to say as the light raced across the desert toward us on spider legs. I had seen something like it before.

  “Gravity bombs!” I yelled. “Run!”

  “This way!” cried Dragonette. “There’s an open door back there!” She zoomed ahead of us, leading the way. Kitten dashed after her, and the rest of us brought up the rear, as we ran with all we had toward Evernight.

  “Up here!” commanded Dragonette. “It’s on the second level!”

  Shadows raced past us into Evernight. They howled at our heels, driving us up the stairs and across the landing. I heard Ashur and Ahi shouting behind me.

  “Run!” somebody screamed. “Lock the door behind you!”

  I didn’t recognize that voice. Had someone been living in Evernight after all? Had the noise drawn them out? Where were they now? I could see Dragonette and Kitten, just ahead. I could think only of getting through that open door.

  There it was! Dragonette shot through like a bullet, Kitten jumped over the threshold, and I followed close behind.

  Something laid a hand on my back and pushed. I flew forward. Behind me, I could hear Ashur and Ahi at the door. They leaped over the threshold, and the door slammed shut behind them.

  I picked myself up. Kitten crouched in a nearby corner. Ahi and Ashur gazed at each other and then at me, their faces pale.

  “Running ruins and sad,” Kitten said, her voice very small.

  “What?” I said.

  “Now I know what’s sad,” said Kitten.

  I looked into every corner of the room. I had seen Dragonette fly in, right before Kitten crossed the threshold. She wasn’t there now. She wasn’t anywhere.

  Outside, blue lightning flashed and the storm howled, as if in triumph.

  PART FIVE

  THE SOUTHERN GODS

  22

  There’s No People Like Show People

  The storm raged for hours. I barely heard it. My memories kept me too busy with thoughts about gravity bombs and the destruction of Titania.

  Somewhere in the background, I could hear Kitten trying to comfort herself with her favorite show tune: “There’s no business like show business like no business I know.…” The result was a sad and hollow version of her usual rendition. She was close, and I should talk to her, but my thoughts and my feelings were still too remote. I had banished emotion while I pondered the details of the death of a generation ship.

  The bombs generated powerful fields that conflicted with each other. Blue lightning had crawled over Titania’s hull when she came unraveled. From the sound of it, they were doing the same thing to Evernight.

  “Everything about it is appealing, everything the traffic will allow…”

  Most of the people inside Titania had been killed when the gravity bombs interrupted the spin. The people inside the Habitat Sector had been swept out with the atmosphere. How had they killed the people in Evernight? Were they crushed and mangled? Would that happen to us?

  “Nowhere could you get that happy feeling when you are stealing that extra bow.…”

  Some people had survived the destruction of Titania, just as we were surviving in Evernight, in this little room. We may have ended up in the right place at the right time.

  Even if we lasted through the night, we had paid a high price for that.

  “There’s no people like show people … they…” Kitten’s song petered out.

  I counted my mistakes like sheep, but it was not a behavior conducive to sleep. I hadn’t told Medusa that Crow contacted me. I hadn’t told Ahi and Ashur what the Three had shown me. There were so many things …

  “Come back to me,”
whispered Kitten. “Come back.” She was calling Dragonette, who couldn’t hear her.

  I tried to remember why this expedition had seemed like such a great idea. I could see how I had been goaded into this course of action. Perversely, I could still see why the risks had looked as if they were worth taking. In the end, one question remained.

  How was I going to fix this?

  “Come back to me,” Kitten said again, and I realized she wasn’t calling Dragonette after all.

  She was calling me.

  “I hear you, Kitten,” I whispered. I didn’t want to wake Ashur and Ahi. They were snoring, and I felt grateful they were getting some sleep.

  Kitten had been sitting on my chest this whole time, trying to get through to me. “Maybe I’m not show people, Oichi. I can’t smile when I’m low.”

  “Me neither,” I admitted.

  “I don’t think Dragonette is dead. I think she’s lost. I’m about sixty percent sure of that.”

  I was closer to 50 percent.

  “I think I should postpone my grief,” Kitten continued. “Do you think that’s okay?”

  “Absolutely.” In fact, I was an expert at postponing grief.

  My companions weren’t so good at that. Once the shock wore off, they looked miserable, and weary beyond measure—even Kitten. The room in which we found ourselves was plain, unfurnished, and without apparent purpose, except to shelter us from the lightning. It had no windows, and the only door leading in or out had been locked when it slammed shut. We stretched out on the floor and tried to rest. Blue light blazed around the edges and under the bottom of the door, creating a strobe effect in the room. Ahi and Ashur threw their arms over their eyes and tried not to see it.

  I watched. I let that blue lightning take me back to Titania.

  I had to admit, though—the effects were not what I had expected. So far, we had not been crushed in the gravity fields. Maybe we would have been, if we hadn’t outrun that storm and taken shelter, but it seemed odd. Dragonette had flown into the same room, yet she was gone. Somehow the whole attack had seemed—personal.

  Probably aimed at me. I was the one who lost my nerve at the feet of the Three. I had been full of paranoia and fear when they linked with me. I had doubted myself, and this was the result.

  These young people with me were innocent; they were the reason things hadn’t gone completely wrong. I had turned my back on Medusa and ignored her advice—now I had to step out of myself. I had to face my biggest fear. If only I could pick it out from the crowd.

  “I’m going to stay right here.” Kitten hugged my middle. “I’m not going to let go of you. That way, you can’t disappear.”

  “That’s an excellent plan,” I said, though I had no idea if it would work. I folded my hands over her body, hoping that would make her feel safe. I stared into the corners, wondering what I had missed. While I lay there, the storm outside diminished, until it died.

  Sometime later, I felt Kitten go away.

  She didn’t get up. She didn’t move at all. I felt her solid shape under my hands one moment, and empty air the next.

  Suddenly I knew what I had been missing. I was the bad egg, the one who had put us in this dangerous situation. When Dragonette disappeared, I had been the closest to her. Kitten had been right on top of me. I thought I was protecting them. That was all I had to offer, because I wasn’t good at the finer emotions. I hadn’t noticed the line I had crossed, taking them into danger because I thought I could control everything, even when I had been presented with so much evidence to contrary. Everyone thought I was so brave, but fear had been driving me all along.

  How could I learn to love, then? In every story I had ever heard about the subject, a sacrifice had to be made. I had thought I would give my life for the ones I cared for, but I had never feared death enough to understand how dearly that gesture had cost others. In my case, the sacrifice was something different. In my case, it was control I needed to let go of.

  If I wanted Ashur and Ahi to survive, I needed to get as far away from them as possible. I needed to set them free of me.

  They slept so deeply, they wouldn’t hear the small noises my feet made on the floor. I crept to the door and put my hand on the knob. This might defeat my resolve. If it were still locked, Ashur and Ahi would be stuck with me. They might never get out of the canyon.

  It was unlocked. I paused on the threshold and remembered what Ashur had told Nuruddin before we left Olympia.

  We are connected to the Three, Father. Our blood is theirs. I was—literally—made for this job. I’ve got to do it. I can’t shirk my responsibility just because I’m young.

  I couldn’t shirk mine, either.

  Get home safe, I willed the two young people still fast asleep on the floor. Then I went through the door and pulled it shut behind me.

  Don’t think I wasn’t cautious when I stepped out that door. I looked for any sign of blue lightning, but the world outside held still. Evernight had weathered the storm with remarkably little damage. It waited for me to make my move.

  I walked away from Evernight as quickly as I could, out into the desert, never looking back. I thought I understood how Medusa had felt when she walked away from me.

  Probably I was wrong, but it was as close as I could get.

  * * *

  Running ruins and sad! the Sentinel had said.

  Those words chased themselves around inside my head as I stumbled along the trail, not clear about where I should be going, but also uncertain about whether I should just stay put. Evernight was far behind me. Eventually the sun had risen, which was an encouraging development—until the day began to heat up.

  I followed an ephemeral stream that had dried for the season. Lines of fine alluvium pointed with ripples of sand toward some distant basin.

  The sun climbed at my back. The Three in their Gorge had been west, roughly the same direction I was walking. They weren’t there now. I kept lifting my head to see if they might have reappeared. I contemplated those ripples in the sand and chased the same thoughts around my head again.

  When you find yourself in trouble, Queenie had advised, remember who you are. Remember what you have suffered. Remember what you hope to accomplish. When you have done that, say those things.

  “My name is Oichi Angelis,” I said. “And I—I lost—I never…”

  It wasn’t that easy to put my own suffering into words. Anyway, what had hurt me before seemed like nothing compared with what what was hurting me now.

  “Let them go,” I pleaded. “Send them home. I’m the one who started all the trouble. I’m the one who should finish it.”

  You can teach Ashur how to kill, Timmy had said, or you can let him teach you how to live.

  I conjured Ashur’s face in my memory. Was it already fraying around the edges? In such a short time?

  The sun moved. I’m pretty sure it did. It tried to peek down the back of my collar, to burn me there, reminding me that I had long since lost my hat. I took a few sips of water. My bottle felt light, and I couldn’t remember how many times I had drunk from it. I knew it would be empty soon. I looked for the Three. They weren’t there. I looked at the ripples again, and I found a thing in the sand.

  A gizmo. An artifact. Some baffling whatsit that had broken off a larger thing lying near it. Another lay not far from that one. When I followed that line of things, a spaceship junkyard spread its arms around me, spilling odds and ends as it went.

  This collection was far more eclectic than anything I had seen so far. Also far more damaged. These reminded me of the Island of Misfit Toys from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Here were the miscreants of space, the forgotten boo-boos that couldn’t hold together—though they did have a certain charm. In their own way, they welcomed me.

  Come on in, Oichi, they seemed to say. Enter the place where all the Lost Ones end up. You know what that feels like, right?

  “Yeah,” I croaked. “You guys have any water? I think I’m on empty.”


  I stumbled and almost fell. For a moment, I had to fight dizziness. Should I take a drink of water? Did I have any left?

  “Hey,” someone said.

  I opened my eyes and found a giant in my path—Lady Sheba’s blue-eyed henchman.

  I should have smelled him, because he wasn’t wearing the fancy clean-wear Fire had given Ashur and me. From his odor, bathing wasn’t something he did regularly, anyway. He waited a second for me to register who he was. Then he shoved me, hard. I landed flat on my back.

  Up! Now!! an inner voice commanded. I scrambled to my feet before he could fall on me with his full weight. He slammed into me, and I backpedaled as I tried to keep upright. If he managed to knock me down and pin my arms, my only option would be to try to rock him off, and I had serious doubts about how well that would go.

  You have to go for his eyes, advised that relentless inner voice.

  My momentum was in the wrong direction. I fought to stay upright as he shoved me backward, and just as my feet began to lose their purchase, we slammed into the side of a bulkhead.

  My fleeting moment of triumph evaporated when he locked his hands around my throat.

  He squeezed so hard, I saw stars. I smelled mint, and it occurred to me that this maniac had used breath freshener in anticipation of our encounter, as if he thought we were going on a date.

  “I couldn’t get near you, because of the innocent ones,” he said with a remarkably calm voice. “They’re protected. No one’s protecting you now, lady. No one gives a shit about you.”

  I reached for his eyes. My arms were too short. So I thrust my fists between his arms and tried to push outward. It was like trying to break iron. I jabbed at his feet with my heels, but his boots were too sturdy. When I kneed him in the groin, I felt the protector he must be wearing. He grinned as each of my efforts failed.

  I called.

  Something fluttered in response—something close. The Scavenger stiffened, and his hands released my throat. I fell to my knees, dragging in painful gulps of air. He staggered away from me, and someone stepped into his place.