Golden

by Melissa de la Cruz

  “I didn’t know . . . I didn’t think . . . It’s all my fault. I did this,” said Wes, utterly stricken.

  “No, I did,” she said. “You did nothing wrong.” There was no doubt in Nat’s mind that this was her fault; she had caused this. The Queen had forbidden her to enter. She had brought death to Vallonis. She, who had sworn to protect Vallonis, had as much as doomed the place.

  I am nothing but a pretender.

  A weapon.

  A monster.

  A tree exploded in the distance. The impact was so powerful that the sylphs themselves were tossed into the air by the force of the explosion.

  In the distance, a castle tower crumbled when a second shell struck its midsection. Now they watched as artillery fire lit the forest. Ancient trees burst into flame. Destruction surrounded them, once again.

  As the skies overhead filled with drones, as the winged horses of Vallonis circled and acrid smoke drifted through the sunshine, Nat knew this would be the last stand for the Blue. There was no going back from here as the two worlds were colliding and the corruption was far too great to hold back now. Maybe it was inevitable, maybe it was her fault, but nothing would have stopped this from happening someday.

  Even so, she didn’t mean to go down without a fight.

  If she was a weapon and a monster, she was their weapon, their monster. She didn’t pretend to be anything else. All she’d ever wanted was to come home, to be in a place where she belonged.

  “Tell us what to do,” said Wes, his voice cutting through her thoughts. “Tell us how we can stop this.”

  He didn’t have to say it, because she knew what he was really saying. You are not alone. This is our fight as well.

  Nat felt a rush of adrenaline and a fierce, angry joy. She motioned for the crew and the rest of the sylphs to gather around her.

  “If we cannot close the gate, then we must defend it!” she cried. “We must defend our land! Sound the call, spread the word! To arms!”

  Wes threw her a sword and she raised it high.

  The sylphs were already in motion, meeting fire with blazing arrows of their own, diving through the air on winged horses while they called on lightning to strike their foes. Soon, it was difficult to see them in their cloud of smoke.

  Nat ran to the head of the charge as more sylphs and smallmen emerged from their homes in the forests and the mountains to join the battle. Wes grabbed a thick-bladed axe from a passing cart and tossed it to Shakes, stealing another for himself. Roark found a blade from the cart, while Brendon took one off a riderless horse left tied to a waiting tree.

  Liannan and Nat began to work their magic, and one by one, the people of Vallonis rallied to its defense.

  If this was the end of their world, they would not go quietly.

  Her blood running high, Nat threw herself into the fray. She had once been was the protector of Vallonis, and she had fought to save this place. Now Vallonis would fight at her side.

  In the midst of the sylphs was one who stood above the rest, who was taller than any other, and fairer, too. He wore armor that looked like steel, but it shone with an ethereal light, an otherworldly glow so intense it made Nat shade her eyes. He wore a cloak of purple, deep as dried blood, and his hair was the color of snow. He was drau. One of the formidable. The feared heartrenders of Vallonis.

  “Rally to me,” the drau ordered, his voice thundering across the green and rolling downs, and all at once, he soared to the sky, as his horse unfurled its glorious white wings, leading a flying cavalry through the skies to chase down the drones. “Rain death on our enemies!”

  “Who is that?” Nat asked, blinking at the sight.

  “My father!” said Liannan, her eyes shining. “He’s a general in the Queen’s army.”

  Wes raised an eyebrow at the old man and punched Shakes on the shoulder. “Good luck with that man,” he muttered under his breath.

  Shakes whistled.

  “Come on!” Wes cried, running after the army battalion, Shakes and the smallmen right after him.

  The battle raged on all sides of them. Black-winged drones made circles in the sky, raking the sylph army with bullets. The air was hazy, full of smoke and gunfire, but the sylphs of Vallonis did not waver in their resolve or retreat—they pressed onward.

  Yet the army assault was just as relentless. They were bringing in the big guns now, rolling in whatever they could fit through the portal—tanks, artillery. Even the air was starting to cool as the bitter wind of New Kandy swept in through the open door.

  Defending the portal would only take them so far, Nat realized. They had to stop more of the RSA from entering. The military had a seemingly limitless supply of drones, and if they kept sending them through, there was no hope at all for victory.

  Nat knew what she had to do, and she forced herself to do it before she changed her mind.

  “WES!” she screamed, pushing through the melee, looking for his dark head among all the gold and silver ones. “We need to close the portal! Find the Queen! She’s the only one who can close this thing!”

  “Where is she?” he asked, hacking his way through crowd, waving the smoke away from his face.

  “She’s still back there! On the other side!”

  Wes hesitated, and she knew it was because he did not want to leave her. Not after everything they had been through; but this was different from before, there was too much on the line now. He had to understand that she needed to stay here to fight and she needed him to go back to New Kandy to find Nineveh.

  “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” He smiled wanly.

  She shook her head, returned his smile with a stronger one of her own. “Please, find her. Bring her back here. I’ll be right here when you return. I promise.”

  He would come back to her, alive and whole. He would. She willed it to happen. It was the only way she could let him walk away.

  Wes gave her one last lingering glance before disappearing back through the portal.

  Nat’s heart went with him.

  10

  WITHOUT ANOTHER LOOK BACK, WES tumbled through the portal and onto the streets of New Kandy. A freezing wind blew, and he shivered at the cold and the snow that was falling around him. He shuddered when a drone streaked through the sky above. All around him flames crackled and engines roared. He heard soldiers shouting, coming closer. A shot rang out. Someone must have seen him jump back through the portal. He saw the soldiers coming toward him, so he fled the area around the portal, hurrying to conceal himself in the haze of smoke and dust that covered the city.

  From behind a snow-covered mound of debris, he saw men rushing toward the portal, gathering in lines, readying themselves for the invasion. Where was Nineveh? How could he find her in this chaos?

  “Nineveh!” he yelled, his voice hoarse as he tried to make himself heard above the sound of gunfire and explosions. “Nineveh! Where are you? Vallonis needs you!”

  Thinking of the war that had come to the Blue made him ill. He had done that. He had broken the portal, had torn a rent in the fabric of space and time, had let in the dark. No matter what Nat said, this was his mess and now he had to fix it. Fast. Before everything was destroyed.

  He’d only just learned of his power and how to use it. When he broke one of Nineveh’s spells, he hadn’t known that it would affect all of them. He hadn’t known that tearing down the spell that kept Nat from entering the doorway would also disrupt the spell that kept the portal open. How could he know? All of this was new to him. He had no teacher, no peers. For all he knew he was the only person in the world who had these particular powers and he barely understood them. He was dangerous and desperate, and he’d only wanted to save Nat. I’ve made a mess of things, but now I’m going to fix it.

  Peering over the debris toward the portal, he saw what looked like a crack in the fabric of the worlds, a gr
eat and terrible gash. I have to close it, but I don’t think I can do that with magic. He sensed that only Nineveh could do that, so he strengthened his resolve to find her.

  The streets were piled high with snow and ice-covered debris. He circled around the block, ducking through burned-out buildings, avoiding the foot patrols. He ran through the burning streets till he stopped and caught his breath.

  This was no way to find her.

  This wasn’t how she’d found him.

  The Queen had used their connection to locate him the first time, and Wes realized he should try to do the same. He just had to go back there. To the night of the fire. To the night Nineveh appeared to take away one of the twins and Eliza was stolen.

  Wes closed his eyes.

  And went back home.

  • • •

  When they were little, no one believed they were related. It was an odd thing for twins, but features that were pleasing and symmetrical on his face were awkward and elongated on hers. Eliza had been a difficult child; he had few memories of his sister that didn’t include her scowling or crying or angry. His parents called her colicky or worried she’d been born with ice disease. But Eliza was completely healthy yet fully wretched at the same time.

  At six years old, he knew that there was something wrong with Eliza and that there was something terrible about her. The fires she started, and the way she made you see things that weren’t there, feel things that weren’t real—she messed with your mind. She was twisted, as if there was something inside her that was eating her up.

  It was magic, he realized now. He had it, too, but he’d suppressed it, didn’t touch it, never explored that side of himself, that part of his nature. It was too foreign and too frightening to contemplate.

  For those who were marked by magic were marked for death. Inside and out. If they weren’t taken away by the RSA, they became madmen who rotted in the streets. He realized that the effort to deny what was inside him had led to his temporary blindness, the tremors in his hands. But since using his power, his ailments were gone, and he was fully inhabiting his body in a way he hadn’t before.

  The power within him made his heart beat a little faster, made his senses a bit sharper. He felt strangely fulfilled. He’d never had much of a career after leaving the service. He was just a runner, a guy who took odd jobs just to get by. He raced cars and smuggled people and goods. It was nothing to be proud of, not a living. He’d done whatever he needed to do to earn enough heat credits to keep warm, but he wasn’t that guy anymore. All that felt like a hundred years ago, a different life—a different person.

  No more. He knew who he was, the power he had. And maybe that power scared him a bit. He’d taken on the Queen and won—how much more could he do? And what damage could he cause if he accidently misused that power? He needed to be more careful, but how could he? Everywhere he went there were soldiers and magic folk, and all of them had it out for him. Wes was starting lose track of how many times he’d nearly lost his life and how many people had been taken from him.

  Eliza. All of this started the night Eliza was taken. The road that led here, started years ago in a bedroom with his sister.

  When Nineveh appeared that night, Wes had let Eliza step forward and had done nothing while the Queen took her away.

  I was mistaken, Nineveh had told him earlier.

  But what if the mistake was his?

  What if he had never let Nineveh take his sister, his twin? What if he had fought to keep Eliza at home? He was only a boy then, but he should have done something. Maybe he should have taken her place.

  Especially since he was the one Nineveh wanted all along. Eliza had mentioned being unable to break the mist around the tower that held the spell. Was that what he was supposed to do?

  The Queen had looked deep into his thoughts and had used the connection she had forged that night to find him again ten years later. Wes focused on that night, on Nineveh’s voice, and willed himself to her side.

  When he found her, the Queen was standing where they had left her, by the alleyway, in front of the portal. The soldiers were rushing past her, diving through the doorway to Vallonis, carrying heavy armaments, rockets, and rifles. The portal shimmered as they dove through its swirling surface. There were soldiers all around her, but none of them noticed the Queen. No one stopped, raised a rifle, or paused to ask who she was, what was she doing there. Had she cloaked herself somehow? Was that how he had missed her before?

  He was hiding among the piles of snow, concealing himself from the soldiers, wondering how he could approach the Queen, when she spoke to him in his thoughts: The portal is open to all. You broke the seal, she said. It is done. The end has come to Vallonis. She left the portal and walked to where he was crouched, a cloak of light shimmering around her, concealing her from everyone except Wes.

  “But you can close it,” he said, desperately hoping he was right—that his conflict with the Queen hadn’t doomed all of Vallonis. There had to be some way to stop the invasion, and he had to return to Vallonis. He’d left Nat, and who knew what was happening back there. Besides, he couldn’t stand here forever, out in the open with snipers all around.

  “No.” The Queen shook her head.

  “You can’t or you won’t?” Wes yelled, as the building across from them collapsed upon itself like a sand castle.

  The Queen did not reply.

  “You have to. Look!” he yelled, motioning to the tear in the sky, the drones and tanks that were making their way through the doorway.

  She looked but did not see, her face the same immobile mask it had been since she’d appeared.

  Why had she sought him? Why had she reached out to him? He hadn’t trusted her from the beginning, and the doubts only grew.

  Why had she appeared right then?

  Because she knew he could not refuse?

  Because she knew he was trapped?

  Why open the portal in such a dangerous area—not to save them, surely. Nineveh did not seem to care whether he and his crew lived or died, and it was clear she despised Nat.

  So why?

  There was something there—something he didn’t yet see, but he was beginning to grasp the edges of it, beginning to see the hand hidden in the glove, beginning to realize that all was not what it was. That perhaps he and Nat had been played like puppets in a game.

  Nineveh gathered her robes.

  “No,” he said, putting a hand on her arm. “You’re not going anywhere.” There was no getting through to her, but maybe if he brought her to the other side, she could close the portal that way. “You’re coming with me,” he said. Nat had tasked him to bring the Queen back to Vallonis, so he was bringing her back, whether she liked it or not.

  He had already tried his power against the Queen’s and triumphed. He didn’t fear her. Holding her close, he rushed her back to the portal, hurrying as best he could, hoping to enter before the soldiers took notice.

  He failed.

  A gunshot tore through his jacket, nipping skin. Another whizzed past his ear. Someone shouted, “Stop!” but it was too late.

  They were at the portal. The swirling vortex of light shimmered as he pushed through it. Already he could feel the warm sun on his hands and face, and the snow on his shoulders had nearly evaporated.

  When they were through, the Queen shook off his hold. She stumbled forward, her gaze locked on the horizon. Curious, he followed behind her, wondering what had caught her eye. They were standing on a precipice overlooking the horizon. The towers of a beautiful city shimmered in the distance, shining with the glow of a thousand suns.

  “What is that?” Wes asked, blinking his eyes.

  “It’s Apis,” said Nineveh, her voice as placid as ever. “The eternal city of Vallonis. And it’s burning.”

  11

  THE FLOATING CITY OF APIS DANCED with flames. The golden spires
shimmered with sparks. Smoke twined around spindly towers, silvery arches collapsed. In the sky, winged horses flew, rescuing sylphs stranded in towers and on walls. They saved a few, but everywhere the city was crumbling. People fled atop horses, on wing or hoof; they jumped from towers or ran across the burning earth. Walls buckled, falling one on top of another, pulverizing stones, turning them to dust. The RSA had reached Apis and had done their worst. Blackened craters marred every inch of the city. Thousands cried out in pain. But the drones were merciless with their bombings, firing missiles at turrets and sending walls crumbling.

  Nat had found a winged horse of her own and she urged it to fly faster. It was smaller yet more difficult to manage than her drakon, as she was unused to having to express her commands instead of executing them herself.

  The sylphs flew next to her, their faces stricken.

  Nat blinked back fierce tears. Apis is burning and I never even saw the inside of it. I never even entered the city I vowed to protect.

  She had only come as far as its gates. Before one could enter Apis, one had to pass its test. Every pilgrim was made to cross a void, to take a leap of faith and believe in themselves and their power. She had stood at the cliff’s edge and tried to cross the void, but had plummeted to the ground. She had failed. She had not been worthy to enter.

  Was that why Nineveh called me a pretender?

  Did the Queen know I had failed? Was that it?

  “OVER HERE!” a voice called.

  She looked down and saw Wes and Nineveh standing on the cliff at the edge of the forest. She bade her horse to land.

  “Nat,” said Wes, her name a sigh of relief.

  She fell into his embrace, feeling restored in his presence once more. When they pulled away, she turned to Nineveh. “The portal is still open. Why?”

  “What is done cannot be undone,” said the Queen. “This world was never meant to be. And so at last it has met its fate.”