Titan Magic

by Jodi Lamm

  Maddy stared at her own hands, preoccupied with something Jas had said earlier. It was as though all the dark corners in her life suddenly shifted into the light with just a few of his casual words. She spoke slowly. “I feel your anger?”

  “You take my damage,” he said, yawning again. “You feel everything that leaves a mark in me… Madeleine.” He hesitated before he said her name, as though he struggled to remember it. She wondered what her life had been like before she was named Madeleine. How long had she been feeling someone else’s pain? She tried to remember all the times she cried without knowing why, felt desperate, angry, or hopeless without reason.

  “It was you all along,” she said. “You were the source of everything.”

  But Jas had fallen asleep.

  4: Cinnamon and Cedar

  You will obey every command I give you, without question.

  Maddy decided no matter what happened, from this point on, she would remember to ask questions. She considered the creature beside her, a man who had been cursed by a Titan. She was a slave to him. How ridiculous it must have seemed when she insisted he treat her like nobility. No wonder he’d made fun of her. And they shared an intimate connection as well: his pain was a whispered secret between them. She shivered and thought he must be cold, so she wrapped her arms as far around him as she could to warm him.

  Dawn arrived long before she could piece together everything she had learned about her past. Jas must have been someone important to her, but she had trouble imagining the kind of relationship they might have shared. She knew only that her instinct was to please and obey him, and she hated that instinct. Maybe he hated it, too.

  She hadn’t slept, but she didn’t feel she needed to. She shifted one way and then the other. She fidgeted, tangling her fingers in the chain around her neck and pulling the locket from her chemise. The little window caught the morning light as the locket turned, like dawn itself dangled from her fingertips. This was the last book her brother had given her. This was all she had left of home.

  She opened the locket and touched the tiny book inside. It was beautifully bound in a cover of deep umber with a gold title: Joseph of Prague. Maddy examined it under the little magnifying glass and marveled at her brother’s handiwork.

  Then she opened the book and began to read.

  Once upon a time, a people called God’s People lived and suffered in the heart of a city called Prague. Now Prague hated God’s People and invented lies about them, saying they drank the blood of children like vampires. Sometimes, the city even stole its own children so it could blame God’s People for the crime.

  In those days, it seemed the innocent were doomed to grieve forever. But then, one night, a great teacher decided to create a powerful savior. He gathered his companions at a riverbank, and together, they formed the clay they found there into the shape of a man.

  Maddy found it difficult to turn the book’s tiny pages and hold the magnifying glass steady. Her hands trembled too much. She wondered at the power this story had over her imagination. She could almost see the clay man stretched out lifeless on the riverbank, his dead eyes staring at the empty sky.

  Was this Marcus’ last message to her, this ordinary fairy tale? “Read it carefully,” he had said. But Maddy couldn’t focus any more. She squirmed inside, itched all over, as though a tone too deep to be heard buzzed just under the surface of her skin. She closed the miniature book back into the locket and tucked it away again.

  The rest of the story would have to wait. Something was coming.

  The buzzing under Maddy’s skin grew more ferocious as the seconds ticked away. Her muscles tensed. Her back arched and snapped her to attention. And before she understood what she was doing, she had leapt over the stag and spread her arms wide, guarding him against the sharp, hissing bird that flew toward them.

  It thumped into her chest with the weight of a slingshot stone.

  Jas scrambled to his feet, jolted from his troubled rest. His eyes betrayed his horror. “We have to run,” he said. “Now!”

  Maddy followed his gaze and saw the arrow, planted like an exotic flower between her ribs. She stumbled back and breathed shallow. She was dead. “I… can’t.”

  “Yes you can.” Jas glanced to the forest and back again. “We don’t have time for this. Climb onto my back.”

  Maddy’s body obeyed without the help of her will. “I can’t… breathe…” She clutched at her chest with one hand and clung to Jas with the other. The stag dashed along the edge of the forest, Maddy hanging from his back as though someone had tied her there.

  “You’re fine,” Jas panted after they cleared the immediate area, “but if that hunter gets to me, we’ll both be dead.” He darted into another part of the forest and zig-zagged through the trees. “He’s probably horrified he hit you, but if he knows you survived, he’ll know too much. You’re a forbidden creature, Madeleine. You won’t die unless I do. Do you understand?”

  “I can’t…” Tears poured down her face. She couldn’t feel anything. Her entire body was numb. “Help me.” She sobbed. “I can’t…”

  “Forgive me for this,” Jas said. “It’s all I can think to do. Don’t let go, no matter what. Do you hear me? Cling to me, but go to sleep.”

  The apologetic way Jas commanded her did not give Maddy the strength to resist him. Her body slumped over onto his back. Both her arms locked themselves around his neck. Her eyes closed.

  And she stood in a meadow of tall barley, while a swirling, hot wind blew the tears from her face.

  “Where am I?” she shouted and whirled around, hoping to see the stag behind her. No one answered, but the wind grew sharper, whipping her hair against her cheeks. It smelled of pine smoke. “Am I dreaming?”

  “Yes.” A shadow in the shape of a man emerged beside her. “I’m sorry,” it said with Jas’ voice. “It might seem strange at first. You probably don’t remember our dreams either, do you?”

  She shook her head and found it took effort to do so, as though she were submerged in water.

  “I’m an amateur magician. Before you were able to dream on your own, I shared mine with you.” The shadow shifted from one foot to the other. “Just now, we were both panicking. I had to do something to calm us.”

  Maddy stared into the shadow’s empty face. “What happened?”

  “You saved both our lives by taking that arrow,” he said.

  “I did?”

  “You did.”

  Maddy pulled up a handful of barley, which turned to ash as the wind snatched it away. “I didn’t mean to.”

  The shadow laughed.

  “I mean…” Maddy tried to hide her embarrassment by pulling up another fistful of barley. “I mean I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s just your nature.”

  “My nature?”

  He let his hand rest atop her head. “You’re my protector.”

  A protector? Could that have been her purpose? She’d just accepted the idea that she had been a menial slave. But this… “Was I your guardian?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Really?” She tried to smile, but felt too dizzy to keep it up.

  “Does that make you happy?”

  She nodded with some effort. Marcus had given her tales about brave and noble protectors, those who risked their lives to guard something precious. If this were true of her, she could take some pride in her past.

  The shadow laughed again. “You were my guardian angel, Maddy.”

  Nothing Will Taylor had said could have brought the blood to her cheeks quicker. She covered her face with her hands.

  The shadow opened her improvised mask. “You don’t need to hide,” he said. “It’s only me.”

  Maddy stared into the place where his eyes should have been.

  “Come here.” He pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She feared she would be pulled right through him, but the shadow wa
s solid enough. “I want to show you something.” His voice echoed in a body devoid of any sign of life. No heartbeat. No breath or warmth. He was dead inside.

  When Maddy finally pulled away from him, she found herself in sweeping darkness. The meadow had gone. Her bare toes curled into cool sand and her skin tingled with a sudden chill in the wind. “I can’t see anything,” she said.

  “Just wait, Maddy.”

  Maddy? Odd. She suddenly realized he had been calling her by her nickname. But before she could ask him why, the sound of the sea filled the darkness. Maddy clung to the shadow’s arm.

  “This was once the only thing that frightened you,” he said.

  Maddy squared her shoulders and lied. “I’m not afraid.”

  “I hoped you would say that.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re braver than you used to be. There’s no reason to be afraid of the sea or that arrow. When you wake, you’ll be somewhere safe and your injury will be healed. I promise.”

  Maddy dug her feet deeper into the sand. “I feel safe as long as I’m with you.”

  “Thank you, Maddy.” His voice spoke into her ear again, though his mouth was nowhere near it.

  After a long pause, she said, “You’re different here.”

  “Because I’m not an animal?”

  “Because you call me Maddy.”

  “Oh.” He pulled Maddy down with him until they sat side by side in the sand. “This is my medium. Naturally, I’m more confident here.”

  “Your medium?”

  “My talent—the only one I have. Whatever I accomplish in dreams is effortless. Everything I do outside them ends in catastrophe.” He propped himself back on his elbows and gazed into to the sky. “Stars,” he whispered. “I’ve never seen stars here before.”

  “What does it mean?” Maddy whispered, too, though she didn’t know why.

  “I don’t know.” The shadow turned his face toward her, and Maddy thought she saw the hint of a smile in its shape. “Anyway, we’re nearly there, and there’s something I want to say to you before you wake. I wanted to say it the moment I saw you in the forest, but I couldn’t. I didn’t have the courage. I didn’t have the arms.” He pulled her into a tight embrace, and she thought she remembered the smell of his hair, like cinnamon and cedar. “I wanted to say… I’ve missed you so much. You have no idea how much I missed you.”

  Maddy laid her head against the shadow’s chest and heard his heart begin to beat. His ribcage swelled and sank as he breathed. She wrapped her arms around him and felt the buttons of his waistcoat press against the side of her face. His waistcoat was a dark, peppered grey. She knew it, though she hadn’t seen more than a shadow before. She remembered.

  “I wish I could see your face,” she said.

  “No, it’s best you can’t. You can’t see me here for the same reason the sea no longer frightens you. You’ve forgotten me, which may be the only reason you’re still alive.” He pressed his cheek to her hair. “I hope you never remember me.”

  But Maddy already knew the smell of him, the color of his waistcoat, the shape of its buttons. She felt ashamed and frightened, and decided not to tell him about her snippets of memory. At least he wouldn’t worry. And maybe he was wrong. Maybe she wouldn’t die if she remembered. Maybe.

  Just as Maddy began to think she would never let the shadow go, an invisible pair of arms encircled her waist and began pulling her away.

  “It’s time to go,” Jas said.

  “No.” Maddy clung to him.

  “I’ll wake you as soon as we’re finished.”

  “Don’t go.”

  The shadow slipped through Maddy’s fingers like black sand.

  “Don’t leave me here!”

  But Jas was gone, and Maddy suddenly understood how much the sea terrified her. It advanced. She knew it advanced because she could hear it growing louder and louder. The stars disappeared and the wind froze her bones. Seawater pushed and pulled at her legs and climbed her body with sharpened, icy claws. She tried to run from it, but her feet wouldn’t move at all. She screamed. The sea wrapped its fingers around her arms and pinned them to her sides. And she felt the spreading pain as it tore open her chest and poured itself into her lungs with a persistent, painstaking violence.

  5: The Glass Box

  When Maddy opened her eyes, she saw the silhouette of a man hovering over her, examining her by candlelight. This wasn’t the shape she knew from her dreams. It was larger and had an unfamiliar scent. She shot upright and shoved the man away. He slid across the floor and yelped as he collided with the far wall.

  “Sweet Sophia!” The stranger’s raspy voice echoed in the darkness. “The devil was that?”

  He was a priest. Maddy knew he was a priest by the long, brown cassock he wore and the Ouroboros pendant that now lay tangled in a serpentine mess on his chest. In his right hand, he held an arrow, and in his left, Maddy’s corset. She wrapped her arms around herself in utter disgust. Not even Marcus would have had the nerve.

  When he saw her reaction, the priest dropped her corset with a nervous giggle.

  Maddy glared at him. “I won’t forgive you.”

  “Keep your temper, Madeleine,” a voice behind her said. Her whole body relaxed when she heard it. She turned to see the shadow of the stag standing there. “I would have removed the arrow myself, but my teeth aren’t right for the task. He’s a man of the cloth and we’re in his sanctuary. You’re in no danger here.” He paused. “At least he left your chemise in place.”

  Jas stepped into a circle of dim light, which Maddy saw came from a massive, stained glass window high above them. Dominating the altar behind him was a large, glass box, covered with vines of steel ivy. She squinted to see what lay inside. It appeared to be made of gold.

  “My first concern is why you woke before I called you,” Jas said, as though she had been caught doing something she knew she shouldn’t.

  Maddy bent her head to rub her eyes without removing her arms from her chest. It was a feat, but she had no intention of exposing her figure to a strange man, priest or no priest. “You left me alone in a nightmare.”

  “You said you weren’t afraid,” Jas countered.

  “I said I wasn’t afraid as long as you were there.”

  “It was only a dream, Madeleine.”

  Maddy frowned as the priest behind her said, “Does it really dream?”

  Jas shot him a threatening look.

  “So sorry, young master. She just gave me a knock to the head, you know? I forget things when I’ve been abused.”

  “If you forget again, I’ll let her rip you to pieces,” Jas said.

  The priest shuddered. Then he gathered Maddy’s undergarment in his cassock—the same way she had seen kitchen maids use their aprons to carry things they didn’t want to touch—and brought it to her. She snatched it back with one hand. The priest’s smile unnerved her, and she didn’t like him standing so close.

  “What sort of trinket is that?” He tilted his head to examine her locket. When the light caught his eyes, Maddy saw that they were the same dull grey as dry fish scales. She recoiled and stuffed her locket back under her chemise. The shade of the priest’s eyes frightened her far more than the strangeness of his smile.

  Jas cleared his throat. “Madeleine, this is Father Androcles, my uncle. Uncle, meet Miss Madeleine Lavoie.”

  “Lavoie?” The priest’s eyes widened. “As in General Soeren Lavoie?”

  Jas nodded. “It seems his family took her in.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Lavoie.” Father Androcles held out a trembling hand, but Maddy slapped it away. He sucked his fingers as though she’d bitten them. “Don’t think she likes me much,” he said.

  “Well, what did you expect, Uncle? You haven’t treated her very sweetly.”

  “You know I’ve always been short on charm,” the priest said. He had a rusty, singsong voice, and Maddy thought that would be his one redeeming quality. She could learn to appreciate him f
or his voice, if he truly were an ally.

  Jas turned to Maddy. “Madeleine, we were in dire trouble. Any normal, legal creature would be dead from that wound. You were about to be found out. We were both lucky my uncle’s parish was nearby.”

  Maddy pulled her arms away from her chest and ran her fingers over her lower ribcage. She could see the rip in her chemise where the arrow had hit. A few drops of blood were still drying there, but there was no other sign of injury. No mark. No pain. She had completely healed. She pulled the fabric away from her skin and looked closer. Nothing.

  “Do you understand now?” Jas said. “You take my damage and none of your own.”

  Maddy nodded, dazed by the proof in her own skin.

  “Well, now we’ve got that out of the way.” Father Androcles turned his back to Maddy. “I’ll wait while you make yourself decent, Miss Lavoie.”

  Jas continued to stare. “What?” he said, when Maddy crossed her arms and glared. “You expect me to turn around as well? Who do you think taught you how to dress in the first place?” But he turned his back to her anyway.

  Maddy smoothed her chemise and aligned her corset. Had Jas really been the one who taught her to dress? Had she no mother, no maids to help her? A man who had been a master to her, who had complete control over her, had taught her to dress, and what else? How many other indiscretions had they shared? She flushed. “He’s lying,” she muttered, fastening her busk.

  “I can hear you, remember,” Jas said. “And I’m not lying to you.”

  Maddy set her teeth. “Why should I believe you about anything?” She pulled the last clasp closed and tightened the laces.

  “Because were I lying to you, you would feel my agitation. I have very few secrets from you.”

  “You’re keeping my entire history from me.”

  “I won’t succeed for long. Which is why, after I return you to your family, I plan to remove myself from your life.” He turned to face her. “I’m letting you go, and I won’t call you again.”