Talos’s ankle with its twining vein was not fifty paces ahead of me, easily within reach of a determined woman with a knife—or so I hoped.
I began to run, flying across the sand, trusting in the wisdom of my body, the strength of my arm, and the sharpness of my knife.
Twenty paces.
Ten.
The sun, hovering low in the western sky, was swallowed by the shadow of Talos as I drew closer. The black vein was in front of me, and I slashed with my knife, tearing an opening like a screaming mouth. Thick, viscous black liquid leaked out of it.
I heard a creak of bronze and looked up directly into that expressionless metal face.
I froze, the instinctive reaction of the smaller creature before the larger, a bid to avoid the notice of a predator. But Talos had already seen me. His massive hand struck with the force of a tidal wave and sent me flying through the air.
Sothis is how birds feel,I thought in that moment of dreamy weightlessness, as sky and sea and land pinwheeled around me.This is what death feels like.
And:I failed her.
I would die without ever telling Medea how I really felt, never knowing what she might say in response. Never daring to risk heartbreak for a chance at happiness. A coward’s death, when all was said and done.
I hit the ground, and the rest was darkness.
45
Medea
A scream tore from my throat as Talos swept Atalanta up into the air. Quickly, I snatched Atalanta’s obsidian-tipped spear and leaped into the water, my skirts billowing out around me.
The ship had begun to steer closer to the shore, and I did not have so far to go. Talos flailed on the beach, black fluid gushing from his wounded ankle, intent on eradicating the intruder. Every step brought him closer to Atalanta, lying somewhere in the undergrowth. But with all his attention on her, he never saw me coming.
The obsidian-tipped spear was in my hand, and there was no time for fear. Coming as close as I dared, I drew back my arm andthrew.
I threw from the foot, as Atalanta taught me, and from the heart and soul. The spear soared through the air and tore Talos’s bleeding black vein in two.
The bronze giant staggered and toppled over. But I was already running into the forest, screaming Atalanta’s name.
She was utterly still.
The light of the single lamp flickered over her features, rendering her sun-kissed skin waxen and pale. Her eyes were closed. Except for the faint rise and fall of her chest, she did not move.
We were in a shabby, makeshift tent, Atalanta lying on a nestof blankets and myself kneeling over her. Placing my hand on her diaphragm, I could feel the ugly edges of broken bone and the dark places where blood pooled and stagnated. I had done a little healing at the temple of Hekate back in Colchis, but it had never been my strongest suit. Healing magic was complicated, with so many interlocking systems woven together. Nonetheless, I set about mending what was broken and clearing what had been blocked to the best of my ability. I was very glad to have my store of medicinal herbs from the gardens of Phineus’s isle.
When the rough edges of the bone had been lined up and the blood flowed more freely, I sat up. Atalanta was still motionless, but she did seem to breathe more easily.
“If you die,” I whispered to her unconscious form, half delirious with exhaustion, “I am going to kill you.”
Then I rose to my feet and pushed my way out of the tent. Night had fallen, and the moon soared through the sky. The Argonauts had set up fires on the beach, illuminating their efforts to explore Talos’s fallen corpse. Idas and Peleus had climbed onto the bronze torso and were trying to push each other off as a knot of others cheered them on from the ground below.
Jason appeared at my side. “Is she well?” he asked. “Atalanta?”
“As well as she can be,” I replied. He handed me a waterskin, and I took it gratefully. Long hours of work had left me thirsty.
Jason nodded, then his brows drew together. “You took a serious risk today, you know,” he said gravely. “After promising you wouldn’t put yourself in any danger.”
“I didn’tpromiseanything,” I said with a flicker of annoyance. Bringing down that bronze automaton had been the task of a hero, but instead of offering me a hero’s welcome, Jason was treating me like a misbehaving child.
“Even so, you said Atalanta would be taking all the danger on herself. I cannot trust you if you don’t do what you say.”
Now I was really irritated. Before, I’d been pleased when Jason acted protectively, but now I saw that being treated like a precious object still meant being an object.
