BooksBarbecue
Back Bright Air Black
Chapters (53)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. PRAISE
  3. ALSO BY
  4. AUTHOR BIO
  5. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  6. EPIGRAPHS
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. BOOK TWO
  39. 1
  40. 2
  41. 3
  42. 4
  43. 5
  44. 6
  45. 7
  46. 8
  47. 9
  48. 10
  49. 11
  50. 12
  51. 13
  52. 14
  53. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Jason’s ribs sharpened. Knees become spears. Embrace of death, all set on fire until the world is without orientation. There is no sky, no ground, only burning. They are set free for a moment, weightless, the pain gone from her feet, then they hit stone so hard any last breath collapses. She has gone quiet inside, trying to recede and feel nothing, and she imagines the head of Promachus, Jason’s young brother, smashed against these same stones over and over by Pelias, cannot understand the utter disregard for flesh. Only men can do this. Only men can treat flesh as nothing. And only men could have invented the idea of a king. Iolcans around them, but no one helps, held back by one man given the power of a god. All that would make them human given over and forgotten, no limit to what they will allow. Her arm searing against hot stone, no different from the meat of any goat or lamb. She and Jason have crossed over. They are no better than animals now.

Jason somehow is able to roll them sideways, her shoulder blade crushed. She feels the panic all through her, final struggle same as any animal or insect before annihilation, but then he rocks back harder the other way and she is lifted free. She rests on top of him, no longer against stone, no longer crushed or seared, and he has sacrificed. This is what breaks her, makes her weep though she can hardly breathe or move. Not the cruelty, but the kindness. Jason become real.

29

29

They are not cut free until the sun goes down. Knives tearing, and Medea wouldn’t know if these were her limbs being severed. All numb and gone. She is barely conscious. No water. Drifting through the air. All day she has tried to remain awake so that Jason will not die. Some belief based on nothing, that if she doesn’t sleep he will still be alive. At first she spoke to him, said his name, told him she loved him, told him not to die. Later she could only think these words, could no longer speak, but his chest still rose beneath her with every breath, slow and reassuring.

Impossible day, and impossible it could end. Separated, rolled onto stone still hot, looking upward into blue fading sky and closing her eyes again. Sound of Iolcans around them, many in the street, and someone props her up, pours water into her mouth. Shock of it, cool spread throughout her entire body. She opens her eyes to see Jason given water also, lies back down and sleeps.