by Joey W. Hill
Please don’t tell me they’re dead and I’m hearing their voices from an afterlife. Don’t take them from me.
“I’m glad you asked. So are they. You know what an insecure lot they are. Especially that runt, Earthson.” The warmth in his voice flooded her with relief. “Want to hear a story?”
He reminded her of the nights they’d spent on the island, his deep voice taking her into worlds familiar and different, with Wesley and the Dread Pirate Roberts, or a team of oil drillers who journeyed into the stars to destroy an asteroid. Or a young wizard who faced down the evil Voldemort.
“Yes,” she said. But she reached out. “Please. I want…will you hold me while you tell me? In your lap?”
“Are you okay for that?” His concern for her fragility touched her to the extent she almost couldn’t speak. Her large, wonderful champion. He was as he’d always been, but in this moment, what that was hit her even more deeply.
“Yes.”
He slid his arms under her back and legs, and drew her from the bed, bringing the blanket with her as he settled her into the cradle of his arms. She sighed and put her head on his chest. “Tell me about my snakes.”
“They disappeared after you handed me the ribbons. Do you remember that? When I came back to our reality, so to speak, they were just gone,” he said. “I thought what you did. I was sure they were lost to us, and I couldn’t imagine how I was going to tell you that. And, truth, it hurt me deep inside, too. They took care of you for so long. It didn’t seem fair.”
He took a breath. “You were still talking to them. That worried us, and we thought maybe you were delirious from pain, but I should have known you were too practical for that.” His lips pulled against her temple in a smile. “A few hours after we got back here and Charlie was tending you, Rifkin, the snake charmer, came to Yvette’s quarters. That’s where we are. You’d think she’d make an infirmary, but she says until we came along, injuries were few and far between.”
“I can imagine she said it in an appropriately accusing tone, as if the disruption is all our fault.”
“Better not let her know she’s that predictable.” He chuckled. “Anyhow, so there he’s standing, looking all apologetic and like he’ll wet himself if Yvette looks at him cross-eyed. She said he’s still pretty new.”
She traced his smile. His lips firmed under her touch, and he kissed her hand, holding her by the wrist. She’d been dreaming about his touch for the past few days. Feeling the reality was even better.
“He smiles this shy smile and extends his basket. He doesn’t speak great English, but he manages to explain that pretty soon after he’d returned from doing that night’s performance, he’d heard his snakes making a ruckus. So he opens up the basket where he keeps them for transport. Five new snakes are in the basket. He was able to charm his snakes out, and left the other five, but he sought out Yvette immediately. Everyone is supposed to let her know right away if something unusual happens that might be an indication her protection fields are being messed with.”
“But it was my snakes.” She closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind to feel and locate them. They were outside. Slithering through the grass, coiled up on top of a barrel, sunning on rocks. At her mental touch, though, they were on the move, headed toward her.
“Yeah.” When she opened her eyes, John gestured to a basket lying on its side, kept stable in a nest of pillows. “They’ve been coming and going as they please, which they seem to enjoy immensely, but they come back here to sleep and watch over you with me. They seem to like the basket, so that’s why we’ve kept it in here.”
He shifted her back over to the mattress as Ratqueen slithered under a fold of the tent and headed straight for her. The others came in from other directions. She felt a palpable relief as they made it up onto the bed and swarmed over her. Ratqueen coiled around her upper arm while Earthson moved to his usual position at her collarbone. Tunneltrap and Treebark deposited themselves in her lap. Waterlight moved right to her head, forming a crown and weaving through her tresses as if she was stroking Medusa the way John stroked her hair. “Look how long you all are,” she marveled. For the first time she was seeing them from head to tail.
“Remember the African Medusa I told you about?” John said. “Charlie said she’s working on a pouch for you. You can be just like that Medusa, carrying them around with you whenever they don’t want to be left behind.”
“I’m glad I can still talk to them, but I’m so happy they’re free to roam as they wish, and live a normal life.” She paused.
Now that her first concern, the snakes, were resolved, she was hit by the second. Losing her wings was a hard blow, she had to admit, since they’d been vital to her freedom and defending herself. But she realized something else that eased that sting. As long as her eyes were be-spelled by Yvette’s protection or Maddock’s contacts, it meant she could now walk among humans as unremarkably as anyone.
“Did the change with my snakes and the loss of my wings happen because of what Maddock and you thought?” she asked slowly, digesting the staggering thought.
“We think so. I don’t know how much you remember, but you took the ultimate step of faith. The spell broke.” John touched her chin, drawing her gaze. “All the way. I told you your eyes were still neutralized to calm you down, but the truth is, there’s nothing to neutralize. Your eyes are normal again.”
It took a second for his words to register, and when they did, she could hear the thud of her heart, hammering against her chest. Her fingers clutched the sheets.
“They are…harmless?”
“Except for the solid punch to the gut I feel every time you look at me the way you’re looking at me now. Yeah.”
It was done. Over. She was…fully human. Normal. The spell was lifted. It was hard to comprehend, because all that had driven it, all the consequences related to it—Ukrit, her sisters, her life on the island, her life in the temple—were still just as present in her mind and memories.
“Your eyes are green,” he said, after a few minutes, as if he realized she needed time to gather her whirling thoughts. “Like the sea on an overcast day, as Klotho said.”
Rising, he went to a vanity and returned with a large hand mirror. “Yvette doesn’t keep mirrors in here, because her image doesn’t reflect, but Clara brought it, figuring you’d want to see.”
She did, but not yet. She held the mirror face down on her thigh. Earthson used it as a platform to form a loop with his body that followed the inside circumference of the porcelain decorative surface. Her mind darted in a hundred directions.
“But MyTech and Dr. Tyrone…”
“He’s so over it,” Maddock said cheerfully. John had the tent flap pinned open to allow them access to the comfortable afternoon breeze, but Maddock paused, waiting until they acknowledged him before he entered. Medusa saw he was in a different kind of outfit today, a softer pair of trousers that she remembered were called slacks, and a white button-down shirt. It was what men of this time wore for more formal occasions, and she wondered what occasion that was. John was giving him a once-over with the same question on his face.
“Grant crap,” Maddock explained. “Yvette had this crazy idea of letting me meet with the head of research associated with the Vampire Council. Lord Brian is keenly interested in what I’ve been figuring out on portals. Apparently it intersects some stuff he’s doing with the Fae world.” Maddock shook his head. “Before the Circus, I didn’t think fairies existed except as a Disney merchandising opportunity.”
“Bullshit,” John said mildly. “You believe in everything.”
“Yeah. Even happy endings. Because this one is looking promising.” Maddock crossed the tent in one long-legged stride and took Medusa’s other hand, giving it a light squeeze before withdrawing, since Treebark was looking less than welcoming.
“That one still isn’t sure about me,” the wizard noted.
“Smart snake. What were you saying about Tyrone?” John asked.
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br /> “Oh, yeah. You’re clear of him, too, Medusa. You probably don’t remember, but the first time you woke and your eyes were fully healed, I sent him an Instagram picture and a big fat thank you. If it hadn’t been for his attempt to pull that coding from your brain, it might have taken you much longer to reverse the spell. You okay with it so far?”
She lifted a shoulder. “It is…odd, to be so defenseless.”
“That’s the last thing you are.” Maddock pulled up a chair. “The coding he wanted is no longer there, but elements important to you are, like your warrior instincts. I also expect these snakes will stay bonded to you, and you’ll always have a particular ability to call serpent spirits to you if needed. A handy talent, particularly if you need a venomous viper on your side. Oh, I forgot. Yvette already likes you.”
“You two should get a room,” John advised. “The sexual tension is overwhelming the rest of us.”
Maddock snorted. “She booby-trapped the portal this morning. Didn’t tell me she’d changed the formula. Damn near fried my nuts when I stepped across.”
“She’s probably just trying to keep you on your toes. And—hey. Sweetheart.”
Medusa had started to cry, and John’s attention snapped back to her. “Oh Christ, I’m sorry. We’ve known this for a few days. I wasn’t even thinking about how it would feel to know all of a sudden… I’m an idiot. Scram, Maddock.”
She wasn’t sure if the wizard heeded him, but she thought she felt his hand pass kindly over her hair before he retreated, leaving her in John’s care. “It’s okay,” John said quietly, pulling her back on his lap and rocking her. Tunneltrap and Treebark tumbled to the mattress, but the other three came with her. “It’s a good thing, right?”
It was. A very good thing. A wonderful thing. Yet it was a loss, too. She couldn’t explain it, this sudden transition, not to what she was before, because that girl was gone, but something different and unknown. Something that wouldn’t be defined by how she had to protect herself, but by how she wanted to live. And she had several worlds to choose from. The decisions had quickly become overwhelming.
“You don’t have to decide anything right away,” he said, reading her mind so easily as he always did. “You’re welcome here as long as you want. Well, as long as we work to earn our keep.” He pressed a smile against her forehead. “You can just enjoy the journey, figuring it all out. I can’t wait to see everything you decide to explore, because you take such pleasure in life and the people around you. I’ll be with you wherever you want to go, as long as you want me there.”
She nodded against his chest. “That is what I want, too. You.”
She closed her eyes once more, and shuddered at the weight of all of it. Or perhaps the lifting of that weight. He stayed silent for a little while, then spoke, his breath stirring her hair.
“Hey, did you know it’s a full moon soon?”
She shook her head.
“Didn’t you promise me you’d dance for me sometime?” He tilted her head back to meet his eyes. “I like that idea,” he said, gaze roving over her face. “But then, I like the idea of doing anything with you. Maybe tonight we’ll just start with a stroll and see where your strength is at. We can go anywhere. To see a unicorn, buy Starbuck’s coffee… One day there’s this little place in the Caribbean Sea I want to show you. It might remind you of your island. It’s mine. Ours. You can go anywhere, Medusa.”
“With you,” she confirmed, hiccupping over a sob.
“Just try to get rid of me.” His gaze upon her intensified. “We had that discussion, remember? I won’t forget the sharp side of your tongue anytime soon. You convinced me. If I don’t doubt my love for you, it’s pretty patronizing of me to say you don’t know your own mind. Just because I want you to feel that way so badly, doesn’t mean it’s not true. That night, I think we both had something to learn about believing in dreams coming true.”
She was too overwhelmed to smile, but she felt it, deep in her heart. She wanted to see the world with him. Almost as much as she wanted to remain here, quiet in his arms.
She could do both, thanks to him. And thanks to her own courage, which his love had helped her find, enough to love him back.
She no longer needed a gaze of stone to protect herself. Just a heart open to his love.
Epilogue
No claws or wings. No snakes, though they were not far, hunting and exploring the woods around the silver-green meadow she’d chosen as the perfect spot to dance for John Pierce.
She’d come here alone first, so she stood in the moonlight, a priestess taking slow, measured breaths. Only now there was no temple. It was just her and the Goddess. She would dance for Her, and for the pleasure of her Master. She served them both.
“Marcellus said you wanted…”
His voice trailed off as he arrived at the clearing. Turning on the ball of her bare foot, she faced him. The tunic was sheer silk, molded to her body, belted at the waist with a beaded chain that pressed cool metal and sparkling crystals against her bared hip bones, because the garment was open along the sides. She’d brushed her hair until it was thick and shining, falling to her backside. Clara had introduced her to henna tattoos, so she’d decorated her ankles and feet with a delicate design the young woman had helped her apply.
She knew she would be considered beautiful to anyone with eyes. But she wanted to be beautiful to the one set of eyes that saw her within, more deeply than any other.
Healing from what had happened at the hands of MyTech, and adapting to her restored human form, were slow processes. But she was gradually gaining ground over that darkness and rage she’d carried for so long. The fathomless rivers of loss and regret in her soul were carrying them away, but she hoped those waters would create greater wisdom, to help her with the choices she made today and tomorrow.
“Yes. I want,” she said.
On the island, she had written poetic descriptions of her life there. In her isolation, she’d come to realize words had a magic of their own. The simple description of a breathtaking sunset or an innocently sleeping rabbit connected to things with far deeper meanings. So now she spoke that layered language to him.
“I want to wake with you every sunrise, John Pierce. And go to bed together once the sun sets. I want to watch you laugh, and smile. I want to close my eyes to hear your voice, because when I do that, it is as if what I see and enjoy with my eyes becomes a touch on my skin. Your touch. I want to swim with you again, because I like how water leaves beads like jewels on your flesh. I want to watch the fine way your body moves, and feel the softness of your hair, the roughness of your jaw, under my hand.”
She drew a breath and took a step toward him. He was watching her without moving, but as he was adjusting to the surprise of her appearance and starting to understand her mood, she could feel an energy vibrating off of him, intensifying.
“Do you remember, when Vinnie said his mother ‘gets’ him?” she asked. “Can you tell me what that means?”
John’s gray eyes were silver in the moonlight. “It means she understands him, why he acts the way he acts, who he really is, what he wants and needs.”
Warmth filled her. “That’s what I thought. Which means you ‘get’ me.”
“Glad to hear it, snake-girl.” His voice was husky, heavy with emotions that interlocked with her own.
“I want something else, John Pierce.”
“Whatever it is, you’ll have it. Just tell me what it is.”
He knew as well as she did some things could not be had just by wanting. But hearing his determination to provide anything within his power to give, swept longing and joy through her, such that her next words came out as a near whisper.
“I want to lay upon the earth with you, feel its heat and life, and create life of our own.”
It took a moment for her meaning to register with him. As her mind caught up with her heart’s impulsive declaration, she wondered if she should have said it.
Then his eyes filled
with his response, a pool of mixed emotions. The same feelings she had about it. Terror, pleasure, certainty. Desire. Those emotions would be shared, an accord. Yes. He wanted to give her a child.
He took a step toward her. His lips pressed together, the muscle flexing in his jaw underlining all that she saw in his gaze. “Dance for me,” he said.
She spread her arms to either side and knelt, bowing her head to him. First, she listened. To all the creatures singing, to the leaves and grasses moved by the wind, to the sounds of the night that mixed together and became the music. Crossing her arms over her chest as she listened, she began to tap the rhythm out against her body. She wasn’t surprised that the cadence she found matched the song she wanted to sing for her dance. Energy flow was like that. She’d known it instinctively as a young acolyte, but now she had the pleasure of recognizing that astonishing truth as a woman.
Lifting her head, she met his eyes and began to sing. Melodic notes poured from her lips and out into the meadow and wood, coaxing birds to speak from their nighttime roosts, and other chirping insects to join in the composition.
She had started to learn his language, so that one day she would no longer need the translation spell, and she’d learned this song in that language. She’d first heard it on Clara’s music player. Clara had said the song was called “I Need You.” The words, which spoke of a lover’s need for another like the need for mercy or water, and about finding freedom in his arms, were words that spoke truly of her own feelings for John Pierce.
Rising, she started to dance at last, turning, twisting, her arms moving in graceful syncopation with her body. She dipped her head back, her hair flowing out around her, the fabric of her gown rippling with the movement. She’d bathed in a soapy froth that Charlie had given her which left her skin with a lustrous sheen. She wanted to be touched. The movements of her body told him so, because he was coming closer.