John Carter by Stuart Moore

again. He opened his mouth, began to form the final word.
    â€œJasoo—”
    The door erupted inward in an explosion of wood. Dejah Thoris shielded her face, turning away. The Zodangan guardsmen rushed in, followed by the curious matron and handmaidens.
    Sab Than swept past all of them and strode straight toward Dejah. He seized her by both shoulders, admiring, proud, and possessive all at the same time. “Are you alone?”
    Together they scanned the room. Bathtub, bed, regal furnishings, and trunks full of silks.
    But no John Carter.
    â€œYes,” Dejah said quietly. “I am alone.”

H IGH UP NEAR the vaulted ceiling, perched in the shadows of the eaves, Carter watched silently as Sab Than led Dejah out of the room, one arm wrapped possessively around her waist. The guardsmen and maidens followed. The matron took a quick, suspicious look around the room, then exited last, pulling the heavy door shut behind her.
    Alone now, Carter dropped to the floor.
    He’d made his decision, he realized. Earth had been no more than a syllable away; he’d felt its pull, almost smelled the sweet grass of Virginia calling. But in the end, it was all nothing next to Dejah Thoris. She meant the world to him.
    Unfortunately, he had no idea what to do next. Carter was free but hunted, in a hostile, alien city. And Dejah was less than a day away from marrying that city’s tyrant ruler.
    Helium and Zodanga had made their pact. Carter’s only hope was the Tharks.
    He slipped out of the room, eyes darting around the empty corridor. He turned a corner toward a winding staircase and came face to face with Dejah’s matron.
    The old woman held up a strange bracelet weapon. A web of glimmering blue energy spat out from it, striking Carter’s chest and growing like instant moss. It expanded up to his neck and down over his legs, stretching out to cover his arms, his clothing. Then it turned rigid, hard as stone, locking his body in place.
    â€œWhat is this—?”
    The web snaked up around his throat, wrapping around his jaw to form a gag.
    The matron raised a finger to her mouth. “ Shh. ” With a graceful motion, she plucked the medallion from Carter’s hand. Then she circled behind him, leaned over his shoulder…and her face shifted and changed. Became harder, more angular, more masculine. She seemed to grow taller as well, and a timeless, ancient look appeared in her eyes.
    â€œI am Matai Shang,” the figure said. “And I assure you, we will have plenty of time to talk.”
    Then the energy web spread up over Carter’s eyes and the world went black. He made a muffled, panicky noise, but Matai Shang’s firm arm pulled him forward. Carter heard sounds, voices. The stagnant indoor air gave way to a warm breeze, and he felt the jostle of a crowd around him. He almost tripped over a short flight of steps, and then a firm hand shoved him into a seated position.
    When the Thern energy weapon receded from his eyes, Carter found himself sitting in a Zodangan battlewagon. He managed to turn his neck far enough to see out the window: a crowded street lined with pedestrians and market stalls. And statues of Sab Than.
    â€œThe Avenue of Warriors,” Matai Shang said.
    Matai sat directly across from him, dressed now in an ethereal, shifting beige robe and metallic wristbands. He studied Carter like a cat with an injured mouse.
    Carter struggled but the Thern device held his limbs tight. Matai touched his wristband, and a tendril receded from Carter’s throat. Carter gagged, coughed.
    â€œNow,” Matai said. “Let’s have that talk.”
    â€œWho are you?”
    â€œAh. American.”
    Carter frowned. “Who are you, sir?”
    â€œâ€˜Sir.’ Definitely the South.” Shang cocked his head, almost amused. “The Carolinas? Virginia? It’s Virginia, isn’t it. Lovely place.”
    â€œYou know it?”
    â€œNot well,