Medusa in the Graveyard (The Medusa Cycle)

by Devenport, Emily

  Yeah, I hoped so, too. Having been through a few time fractures myself, I had some idea what that felt like, and I wouldn’t mind trading stories.

  The march up the Maisy River felt twice as long as it had going in. When we hiked up the switchbacks, I had to remind myself that I’m twenty-something, not ninety, because I thought I was going to keel over. Kitten trotted alongside me as if she were squiring her grandmother, asking, “Do you need to rest? Would you like to stop for a drink of water?”

  I dreamed of a shower, and a comfy bed, and a nice supper. By the time we saw the bridge over the Maisy River Gorge, I was neck and neck with my companions. I could let myself feel sore and tired later.

  We stepped onto the bridge. I walked ahead with the Minis; Ashur and Ahi brought up the rear. This is it, I thought. We made it. Unless someone has a bit of last-minute mischief they want to try.

  Fire and Queenie stepped onto the platform at the far side of the bridge. Relief flooded me; I grinned and waved. Fire waved back. Her expression seemed subdued. Had she heard bad news while we were gone?

  Our footsteps vibrated the metal structure. I kept my eyes on Fire all the way across, but Ashur was the focus of her troubled regard. Had she heard bad news about Nuruddin? An accident?

  I glanced at Ashur—he looked so proud and happy, and seemed unaware of the undercurrent I was sensing. Had I imagined trouble? That seemed a pretty good default setting.

  I kept my pace steady and gave Fire the best smile I could muster. She didn’t look in my direction until the last moment, when we joined her at the other end. Her glance held affection, possibly even gratitude.

  “We did it,” said Ashur. “Did you hear the music?”

  “Even the gods heard that music,” said Fire. “It was magnificent. You’re my hero.”

  Ashur flushed, then half turned. “Ahi said…” He broke off, looking puzzled.

  Ahi had been right behind us, but when I turned to look, she was gone. I didn’t see her on the far side of the bridge; I didn’t see her on the trail.

  “Ahi!” Ashur started back. “Where—?”

  “Ashur, stop!” The command in Fire’s voice froze me, too.

  Ashur jerked to a halt.

  “Ahi is already here,” said Fire.

  Ashur frowned. “She was just—we’re in the salvage yard, there couldn’t be—”

  “There couldn’t be a time fracture?” I didn’t like the emotion I heard in Fire’s voice. Ashur didn’t either. I think I guessed what she was going to say before he did. “Ahi’s got her own fracture. It extends farther into the yard than any other.”

  “Where is she, then?” demanded Ashur.

  “She’s here,” said Fire. “She’s me, Ashur.”

  25

  The Alliance of (Semi-)Ancient Races

  The Minis and I gave Ashur and Fire a little space. I remembered how much Ahi had teased him on the trail, but also how she had given him credit, suffered through the dangers with him, held his hand when he felt at the end of his rope.

  Now he showed her his Nuruddin face, stern and demanding explanations. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I couldn’t tamper with the past,” said Ahi/Fire. “I already knew how our adventure would turn out. I knew it would be a success. If I wanted it to stay that way, I couldn’t tell you what to expect.”

  “What about now?” he demanded. “What are you holding back, Ahi?”

  Fire looked at me.

  said Queenie.

  She turned back to him. “You’re going to travel farther than anyone on Olympia has ever imagined, Ashur.”

  “You know that for sure?” he demanded. “You’ve seen my future?”

  “I know it, but no, I haven’t seen it. I know what you’re capable of.”

  I think any other kid would have kept arguing out of pure frustration, but Ashur had shouldered so much responsibility already. He accepted Fire’s explanation.

  Fire didn’t press him. She didn’t say, Are we still friends? or remind him that she was the adult and he the teenager. Looking at her now, I saw the responsible girl who had been so confident, who had kept secrets that would have stymied adults four times her age. Here was the girl who had figured out what the model of Time and Space had been trying to tell her in Seaside. Now she and Queenie used it when targeting for Queen’s Fire.

  They call me Miss Kick-Butt.

  “Are we done?” Ashur said. “Is it time to go home?”

  “Yes,” said Fire. “I’ll escort you back through the yard.”

  Kitten, who—bless her—had been silent up to that point, said, “Rocket and Teddy must be dreadfully worried about us.”

  Fire smiled at her. “No, dear. You’ve only been gone a few hours.”

  That explained why the sun was beating down on the top of our heads.

  Seriously. Would I ever sleep again?

  * * *

  Walking back through the apocrypha—both sorted and unsorted—was a different experience, now that we had ventured into the graveyard. Those could have come from the Misfit Toys, I mused as we wandered past a rack of oddities, and then, farther down the row, Those could have come from Klaatu Canyon.

  The Minis had regained their confidence, and Ashur seemed to be processing recent events with the resilience of the young. Fire sparked most of my interest now. I finally asked her.

 

  I looked sideways at her.

  she said.

  It must be, if you can send people on an expedition with your younger self as a guide.

  We had walked so far already; what was a little more walking? I was already running on fumes by then, so it was with great relief that I spotted a vehicle parked in the wide lane between racks. The driver waved at us.

  “That’s your ride,” said Fire. She stopped, and regarded each of us in turn. “You were all a turning point in my life, so I’ll say aloha instead of goodbye, because we will meet again. You’re always in my heart.”

  She touched my hand. “Oichi, you are the reason that Queen’s Fire protects this system. I know you thought you were supposed to come here for a very different reason.”

  “I was a delivery system,” I said. “For Queenie and for Ashur. I can live with that.”

  said Queenie.

 

 

  Sheba had traveled back to the yard at the same time her earlier self was entering it. I wondered if she broke the rules and gave herself some advice. That would definitely be her style.

  Queenie continued,

  I promised.

 

 

  We each embraced them. Then we walked to our car. The driver hurried around and opened the door for us.

  “Is this a limo?” asked Ashur.

  The driver grinned. “Top of the line. Your friends have some big bucks.”

  I peered inside at our friends. Gennady waved at me. He was sitting next to Baba Yaga. She held that cane she favored, the one with the iron skull as a grip.

  An empty seat faced theirs. We climbed into it. The driver secured the door, sealing us in.

  “Seat belts!” commanded Baba Yaga. “You’ve come through danger relatively unscathed. Don’t be fools, now that it’s almost over.”

  Ashur and I dutifully secured our belts. Dragonette settled on Ashur’s shoulder.

  Kitten sat in my lap. “It all seems a bit anticlimactic,” she said. �
�Is that normal, for adventures?”

  “It is,” said Gennady. “Maybe that’s why people keep going on them. They start to feel disappointed with normal.”

  I did not feel disappointed. I felt tired.

  Our limo began to roll. Behind our seat, a barrier rose between us and the driver. Once it had sealed, Baba Yaga said, “You have done well, Olympians. You woke the sleeping giants just a little. And you, Oichi, had the good sense to back off at the right time.”

  Well, I had the dumb luck and the foolish doubts, but if those look like good sense, I’m happy to go along with it.

  “I suspect you will find the Three behave more sympathetically toward you when they have limitations,” she continued. “I don’t have a lot of limitations myself, so bear that in mind.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Ashur.

  “Your Sunken Cathedral program was good, by the way.” Baba Yaga gave Ashur a short nod. “It reminds me of the sort of thing Andrei Mironenko used to do when he was very young.”

  Gennady winked at me.

  “Did it turn out the way you wanted it to?” I said.

  He shrugged. “It turned out the way Grandmother wanted it to, but I agreed with Lady Sheba. It should have been you, Oichi. The power you would have commanded! We would have become supreme.”

  “Except for one minor detail,” I said. “The southern gods.”

  “True.” He shrugged. “There’s something to be said for Ashur’s interface. He got the entire graveyard to agree on something. That’s a first.”

  Kitten sat up. “It’s only a first if you experience linear time. We didn’t.”

  “That’s an excellent point.” Gennady gave her a measuring look, then turned back to me. “You know, Lady Sheba reminds me of Medea.”

  I frowned. “Jason’s girlfriend? From the movie?”

  “Well, yes,” he said, “but that story is from the early part of their lives, when they were happy. Later, he tries to dump her so he can marry another princess, and Medea murders their two young sons and his new bride-to-be to get back at him.”

  “That does sound like Lady Sheba.”

  “And you, Oichi—at first you reminded me of Elektra.”

  I brightened. “The superhero gal? That lady with the red costume and the tridents?”

  “Those weapons are actually called sai,” offered Dragonette. “I looked it up.”

  Gennady grinned at her. “Well, yes, that’s the movie version, but there’s a play, too. You should ask Nuruddin to find it in his collection. Now, I believe you’ve moved past Elektra. I’ll have to wait and see who you have become.”

  “I’m not so sure I can give up the sai.”

  He didn’t smile. “I’m not so sure you should.”

  There was very little conversation for the rest of the drive, which was a shame, because that was a luxurious spot—so comfortable, it threatened to put me to sleep. I may have nodded off a few times on the way to Port One.

  At last, we drove through its gates. Our limo pulled up next to Merlin, whose silver hide gleamed in the morning sunlight. Gennady pushed a button, and the window next to Ashur rolled down.

  Teddy and Rocket came bounding out of Merlin before we had even come to a stop. They were followed by Captain Thomas and Representative Lee, Mirzakhani and Narm, Wilson and Cocteau. It felt like years since we had last seen them.

  It felt like centuries.

  For them, it was just a few hours, and that was reflected in their happy expressions. Only Cocteau seemed to have some inkling what had happened to us. She winked at me as she walked up to the window.

  “Success,” I greeted them. “Everyone is alive, with all our limbs intact.”

  Captain Thomas regarded us with her hands on her hips. “I thought that was going to take you a lot longer. We haven’t even been to the bars yet.”

  I decided not to tell her that it had been a lot longer. “If you’d like to wait until tomorrow to leave, that’s okay with us.”

  “We have to wait,” she said. “They want twenty-four-hour notice of any flight plan.”

  “Splendid!” said Kitten. “There’s time for karaoke.”

  Narm groaned, but when Dragonette flew out the window, he welcomed her back to her perch on his finger. “For anybody else?” he said. “I would not make that sacrifice.”

  She gave him her most charming smile. “You won’t have to learn line dancing, though. We’ll let you sit that one out.”

  The driver slid the door open, and Ashur got out. Kitten followed, but before I could move, Baba Yaga said, “Wait, Oichi.”

  I froze.

  “Tell them to go inside. I want to speak with you privately.”

  Cocteau motioned to the others. “Inside, my friends. Oichi isn’t quite done yet.” She used a tone I hadn’t heard before. Everyone obeyed her without question.

  “Watch them as they go,” said Baba Yaga. “See them, Oichi.”

  I did, until the final one had passed through the outer lock: Kitten, who stretched her neck until the last possible moment.

  “You risked their lives,” said Baba Yaga. “It was a calculation I’ve made many times. They survived. But someday you will take that risk again, and you won’t be so lucky. When that happens, see them.”

  I wasn’t quite sure what she meant until she added, “That sere Lady who saved your life, because you were useful, does not see the lives she expends. She has lost her perspective. I don’t tell you to be kind, Oichi. I tell you to be aware, so you will make good decisions, because now your decisions will have an impact on all of us.”

  “Then,” I said, “I will strive to be aware.”

  Her hand tightened on the head of her cane. Its iron teeth peeked through her fingers. “I believe you. So I’ll leave you with one last warning. Remember that powerful entities do not have compassion, innately. They have to learn it. You and your Ashur may have taught it to the Three, but when I encountered their avatars, millennia ago, they were not like the denizens of Ashur’s Sunken Cathedral.” She paused, her black eyes fixed on mine. “They were death gods.”

  I had seen their true forms when I confronted them in their Gorge. If they could adapt and change, their choice of death gods for avatars told me as much about the ancient people of Earth as it did about the Three.

  She seemed to read that in my expression. “They were lonely. They looked for people who were like the ones they lost. They learned we weren’t enough like them; we were too cruel, too destructive. To make them happy—we had to make you.”

  What kind of creature was Baba Yaga, that she could patiently hatch a plan over tens of thousands of years?

  “Goodbye for now.” She dismissed me before I could ask. I climbed out of the limo. Once on my feet, I turned to get a last look at Gennady, but the window rolled up before I could see him. When Baba Yaga said goodbye, she meant business.

  The limo drove away. As I watched it go, the hairs on the back of my neck stirred, and I turned to see who was behind me.

  Dagger loomed over me, his crest in full display. “No rest for the wicked,” he declared, and he placed his clawed hands on either side of my face.

  I had a moment of absolute terror.

  Then I felt something stir inside my implant, as if someone were uploading a new program. Once it had finished, Dagger touched the icons for the Three. “Working,” they replied, their voices a chorus.

  See? I wanted to tell Nuruddin. The Chorus can ride in the God Machine.

  “We’ll fetch Medusa,” said Dagger, “and then we’ll pay a visit to the people who made you.”

  My new program executed an action. The Three provided coordinates. A Gate opened. Dagger and I went through.

  I emerged inside Lock 212.

  * * *

  From my perspective, Medusa had said, I’m going to see you a lot sooner than you’re going to see me. She must have gone through that Gate in Birdie’s wall just after Kitten and me. Medusa stood just under the spot where we had seized Ryan
Charmayne.

  she said.

  I studied her face. Her expression still held no affection, but I thought I saw hope there.

  she said, confirming my suspicions.

 

 

  I had got that right, at least. Now I had to figure out what else was expected of me. Searching, I turned a full circle. “Dagger?”

  He didn’t respond, yet I sensed he wasn’t as far away as he might appear to be. Perhaps he waited in the space between the Gates. I returned to Medusa.

 

  She flowed over me, and we merged. As soon as we linked, she explored the new program, and the icons the Three had placed inside my directory. she concluded. She took a moment longer to accustom herself to the presence we could both feel inside the Gate.

  I asked.

 

 

  Medusa opened the Gate. We flowed through it. Once between, we felt Dagger’s presence, though his shape was unclear.

  He reached into our link to speak in the voice he had used on Jigsaw and Graveyard.

  Medusa said,

  replied Dagger.

 

  Dagger showed us where it was.

  said Medusa.

  We stepped through the Gate, into a room so magnificent, I wanted to ask if there were some mistake. This was not a room one would find on a spaceship.