Alex’s body trembled as his frustration grew. “What do you mean?”
“I thought you were the one possessing magickal talent, but it was her. I suppose I should have known. She was… so different.”
“Jago?” he asked, gathering his composure and lowering his voice, as if he could keep the audience from overhearing their conversation… assuming they heard anything at all. “Whatexactlyare you?”
“I told you, a witch, like some of the souls here. Beyond that, Alex, I don’t explain myself for fear of sending my companions mad.”
“Just tell me!” he barked, unable to stop a sob from entering his voice. “You owe me the truth, at least.”
“A muse? Perhaps it’s as good a word as any. I was a simple weaver of magick when I found this creature and bound it to me. Over time, I have used its powers to delight and enrich souls across Europe and the East. More recently, in the Americas. I suppose Australia or Africa is the next logical step?” Jago let out a laugh as soft as a housecat’s bell. “It started with the royal courts, then the common public, though I must confess, mass media in this century still overwhelms me. There’s nothing quite like the intimacy of the theatre, don’t you agree?”
“Jago, please talk sense.”
“In simplest terms, Alex, I am both the witch and the creature in its service. Once I bound one being to my soul, it was easy to continue, and with each new bonding, we combine our talents. I come, I watch and listen, taking care to choose the right mind and heart. Feasting on lovely chaos, I bring out the very best they have to offer, releasing the creator they were always meant to be. When they can grow no further, we bond and seek out the next.”
“Bond? You mean you… absorb them?”
“We merge, and from our composite parts, choose a desired form. Nothing sells talent like ideal beauty and charm, after all. But the illusion can’t last forever. I can prolong the body’s life, not immortalise it.”
Alex looked down at Jago and was astonished to find the body of the great poet, Lorca, his hairline receding, portly belly overhanging his hips, and an undeniable smile warming his face. “You bonded with...This is Lorca’s body?”
“The original, indeed, adjusted to suit our purposes. Alex,Iam Lorca, just as I am the witch and the muse and every artist I have nourished over more years than I care to remember. Now, imagine if you’d done yourBlood Wedding. No offence, Alex,but that would have been excruciating for me. Still, I wanted to be honest with you, so you saw the show you saw. Lorca was my lover, once. If I had simply murdered him in our bed, it would have raised questions, led the Fascists right to us. So I replaced a member of Franco’s death squad. Once my bullet found Lorca’s heart, it was a simple matter to ‘disappear’ his body myself.”
The poet in Alex’s arms smiled at him, opening his eyes at last, before returning to peaceful slumber.
“Were you also going to kill me?”
“I was going to offer you immortality. The chance to burn bright until your talent was extinguished, either by others or by your own doubts. Lorca found himself surrounded by enemies with no desire to flee. The only way to protect him was—”
“How convenient for you.” Alex caressed his soft cheek and squeezed his shoulders. Not dead, but sleeping, just as Jago—if there was such a man—had been moments earlier.
“I preserve those talents for the next one I find, and the search is by no means easy. I’ve not met a worthy host since Lorca, someone whose talent and humanity I could love in equal measure. In truth, I wasn’t there for you the night of the movie. I’d heard promising murmurs about the director. The singer, too, Alaska. But then I met you.”
“Me?” Alex replied flatly. “You chose me over all the talent in that room?”
“You really must give up this unwarranted modesty. You possessed an energy I couldn’t place. It made you easy enough to find, even that day at the protest. Then, I came to watch your rehearsal, and the true source of that energy revealed itself.”
A cold shiver gripped Alex’s body. “Joanna. You wanted Joanna.”
“You said yourself she was the creative engine behind your show, and you were right.”
Alex couldn’t remember saying these exact words. “And me?”
“Don’t misunderstand, we wanted you too. Lorca wanted your beauty. Your talent. Your kindness and loyalty to your friends. Your charming self-doubt. All the usual business humans look for in a companion, at least if they’re mad enough to date an artist. It all drew us to you.”
“But my talent wasn’t enough to be your next host?”
“Ah,there’sthat healthy ego. Don’t worry, Alex. Artists beyond counting have gone on to very successful careers without my help. It’s not so much that Joanna possesses a greater talent, but one I’ve not yet cultivated in all my years.”
“Dance?”
“No. Magick as an art unto itself.”
“Jo…Joanna’s not…”
“Darling?” she said, rejoining them at last from the darkness. “I don’t need your protection, but do me one favour. Take care of Vicente for me. He really does deserve a second chance, and it would be better if neither of your watched what’s about to happen.”
Alex scowled, shaking Lorca’s body as if to rouse him, only to find Jago’s athletic form in his arms once more. “Joanna, this is madness. You can’t justgiveyourself to this thing.”
