A Curse of Gold

by Annie Sullivan

  A guard’s lifeless body flies inside. I can only watch as it crashes into a row of chairs still set up from the ceremony and sends them scattering. The body is followed by the fiery man. His eyes scan the room as more satyrs stream in behind him.

  “Leave the king,” he says. “We only want the golden girl.”

  Screaming starts as the man burns a hole through the chest of a guard who rushes to stop him. Nobles in their festive finery become a blur as they push and shove, fighting to make it to the exits. Chairs clatter to the floor. Shoes lie discarded. Fabric rips.

  Some make it out the door, and some are caught by satyrs trying to get to me. My heart almost stops at the sight of two nobles being thrown into the air as a satyr rushes forward.

  Tables of food are overturned. Hooves scrape across the floor. Platters crash. And the screams get louder. More tortured.

  A person is thrown into one of the chandeliers, causing it to fall and send shards of glass in all directions.

  I try to cry out a warning, but it’s too late.

  Bodies lay tangled amid the twisted metal. Lady Lucar’s is one of them. Her eyes stare unblinking at the hole in the ceiling, as if she’s judging it even in death. A tiny trail of blood spills from her mouth.

  I swallow, but it does nothing to stop the sickening feeling radiating from my insides as chaos swirls around me.

  Royce’s crew and the guards do their best to hold back the satyrs, but no one can stop the intruder as he burns through everything in his path.

  The man is tall, with veins that stand out in the muscles of his arms. He’s entirely bald, making his face look round. Small eyes are recessed behind a hooked nose. His lips are pale, but maybe that’s because his skin has an underlying reddish tinge, as if a fire continuously burns underneath.

  Royce rushes to stop him, managing to inflict a cut along the man’s arm on his first swing. Blood bubbles out, boiling as it touches the man’s skin. Royce’s sword is just as red, but not from blood. It looks as if it’s been stuck in a forge.

  The man catches Royce’s sword on the second swing. He melts through the metal while leering at Royce. The tip of the sword soon breaks off and clatters to the floor.

  Royce stumbles back, staring at the hilt of his near-useless weapon. The man lunges at him. Royce dodges out of the way.

  He’s out of options.

  I race toward the man, ripping off my other glove as I go.

  I frantically flip around Royce’s jacket until I find another tassel. Royce sees me coming as he pivots—he knows what I’m doing. He dodges the man’s next strike, landing with his back to me. The man’s next blow knocks the sword hilt from Royce’s hand, and Royce falls to the ground.

  The man laughs and saunters over to him.

  I absorb the gold and rush forward, shoving my hand against the man’s arm and watching as he’s frozen in a casing of gleaming gold.

  The instant relief of having gold exit my body is replaced by fire, as though my hand has been blasted by an open flame. I tear it away from the man and shake it until the pain subsides, but I can already feel a palm-sized blister bubbling up.

  Royce climbs to his feet, his chest heaving.

  Rhat rushes over. At some point, he lost his jacket and shirt. Or maybe it was just easier for him to fight without them. “Are you both okay?” He tosses Royce and me swords. I turn to check on my father. He’s still on his throne. Several guards surround him and Tilner. He’s safe for now.

  I move to follow Royce and Rhat, but a sound makes me pause.

  It starts out like hissing. My eyes search for the source of the noise as it grows louder, turning into an odd plopping sound.

  Suddenly, gold melts off the intruder and pools on the floor.

  I stare, open-mouthed. How is this possible?

  I leap back as the man emerges unscathed.

  He smirks at me as his boots squelch into the still-steaming metal. “You didn’t think Dionysus would send just anyone to kill the golden girl, did you?” he asks. “Or that you were the most powerful creature he could create?” His eyes are wide, wild—probably as wide as mine.

  Other creatures? I’d always known Dionysus entered into bets with others, but I never thought he went around creating people with powers on a whim. People who clearly answer to him and who now want me dead.

  “Kora,” a weak voice calls from behind me. My father. “Look out.”

  Without another option, I swipe my sword at the man as he lunges closer.

  He grabs the middle of the blade and melts off the tip.

  Still clutching the hilt of my sword, I scramble backward. My heart races. I cast around for any weapon I can grab. My hands itch for gold, but I know it won’t work any better a second time.

  Behind the man, the melted gold has spread out like a lake. A useless lake.

  And I can’t help but think that’s what I’ll look like if he gets his hands on me.

  He lumbers closer.

  I look over my shoulder. I refuse to lead him closer to my father, so I back myself toward one of the walls lined with tables full of untouched food.

  I take even steps backward, keeping my eyes on the man as he approaches.

  I knock into a table. Platters rattle.

  “Now it’s time to melt you down too.” He grins.

  I lunge for the nearest tower of chipped ice packed underneath tiers of crab and shrimp.

  I heave the ice at the man and steam erupts, shrouding him from view. He cries out and tries to wave away the cloud.

  “Melt this!” another voice cries behind him. As the steam disappears, a sword shoots through the man’s chest. Two daggers follow it on either side.

  The man looks down, shocked. The sword’s metal ripples and drips away where it touches his skin, and the protruding blade clatters to the floor.

  The rest of the sword rips free, creating a large opening, and the skin around it singes, filling the air with the putrid scent of burning flesh.

  The man’s eyes roll up, and he collapses. The dagger hilts in his back melt into pools between his shoulder blades, and the rubies that had been set in one slide off and clink to the floor.

  Hettie stands behind the man, the sword hilt in her hand misshapen from the heat of the man’s body.

  “Hettie.” I pull her into a hug. “Thank you.”

  She’s thinner than the last time I saw her, and paler too. Her auburn hair is pulled into a braid, and she’s wearing her fencing clothes.

  “I heard the screaming,” she says. “There are dead guards all over the palace. What’s going on?”

  “Dionysus sent them,” I say, “but I have no idea why.”

  As we turn toward the center of the room, Phipps pulls his sword from the last satyr still standing.

  The entire floor is littered with bodies. Black blood swirls unnaturally with crimson. My stomach crawls at the sight. How could this have happened?

  “They were after her,” a nobleman whispers. The sound echoes through the nearly silent hall.

  “What did they want with her?” someone else says.

  The room goes completely quiet.

  Slowly, I realize everyone’s gazes have landed on me.

  CHAPTER 3

  She’s cursed.” Lord Lucar pushes through the crowd, his eyes (2) wide and his gaze frantic. His smooth black hair sticks out at all angles, and a smear of blood stains his cheek. “My wife is dead! She’s dead. And it’s all because of her. She’ll kill us all.”

  Whispers start again around the room. They weave between the nobles and servants, who all no longer care who they’re gossiping with. They slowly drown out the moans and crying as others search around the room for loved ones. They even draw in the people staring listlessly at the ceiling in an attempt to avoid looking at the carnage.

  “Princess Kora just helped save you all.” Royce moves through the crowd to stand in front of me, to protect me. His sword still drips globs of black blood.

  I put my arm on his an
d give a nod as I step in front of him. This isn’t his ship where people will listen to him and disperse back to their duties when he gives a command. This is the palace, where people listen only to those who outrank them. At least they’re supposed to, but I can feel the energy in the room turning against me.

  I move to straighten the crown on my head—as King Kalisrov would’ve done to draw attention to the power symbol—only to realize I’d left it out on the balcony after it fell off.

  I drop my hand, scrambling for what to say that won’t scare them more while also letting them know I have some idea of what’s going on and how to handle it. I only wish I did know how to handle it.

  I throw back my shoulders and say with as much authority as I can muster, “Dionysus sent these men.”

  Grumbling spreads around the room. I have to talk even louder to be heard. “And I’m going to find out why so it doesn’t happen again.”

  Lord Lucar’s eyes are wild. “He was after you.” He jams an accusatory finger in my direction. “We should just get rid of you. You and your family have brought nothing but curses down on us. It’s time we had a real ruler.” His voice cracks as the pain of his loss bursts through.

  His words cut into me as sharp as any satyr’s claw, but I set my jaw and refuse to look away. Because if I do, I’m afraid I’ll lose control of the room entirely. I think the only thing saving us from a full-on revolt is the fact everyone is too scared and worn out to fight anymore.

  Plus, most of the people holding swords answer to me.

  I clear my throat. “For now, we need to tend to the wounded and search the palace to make sure no other satyrs remain. We’ll increase the number of guards as we investigate.”

  I close my eyes and do a quick check of the gold up in the tower, using my ability to sense its location. Thankfully, all the pieces are still present. So if that wasn’t the motivation for his attack, what was? And what did he want with me?

  Across the room, Tilner moves forward and starts directing the still-standing guards where to take the injured.

  As the attention of the room shifts, Royce, Rhat, and Hettie circle around me.

  Rhat shoots Hettie a reserved smile, but she stands there stoically.

  “What did you do to make Dionysus so mad?” Royce asks.

  I shrug. “I have no idea.” I’ve been stuck in the palace for the last month. I haven’t had time to make anyone angry.

  Royce eyes the crowd of nobles. “They’re not going to be happy unless we give them some answers.”

  I nod. Even I don’t feel safe behind the palace walls anymore. “How do we find Dionysus?”

  “You don’t,” my father’s voice cuts in as he hobbles closer. “I tried to locate Dionysus when you were turned to gold.” He takes a steadying breath. “He only appears when he wants to be found.”

  “We know he wants Kora,” Hettie says. “Why can’t we use her as bait or something? Wouldn’t he appear then?”

  Royce shakes his head. “As much as I want to know what he wants with her,” he says, his eyes meeting mine, “I don’t think drawing him here is a good idea. More people could die.”

  I nod. He’s right. I look around the room, at the floor slick with blood. We can’t risk letting Dionysus or his henchmen return. But we need answers, and we need them now.

  I scan Royce’s face, hoping he has some sort of plan, even though I know he would’ve already shared it. I shift my gaze to Rhat, who’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, and Hettie, who’s staring at the floor. They’re all as at a loss as I am.

  I mentally go over every book and journal I’ve read since arriving home, praying there’s something that tells me what to do. But nothing stands out. Sure, the twin queens Esor and Ayaniv had been betrayed by their head guard and imprisoned. And Queen Teragram had written about how to survive a siege, but I’d come across nothing about a single attack orchestrated by a god. And not just any god. Dionysus.

  I’m about to sigh and say we should head to the library to look for any books or ancient scrolls that could help when my gaze lands on the window and the mountains that loom in the distance. The mountains I’d always hated because the Great Oracle—the renown knower of all—was rumored to live there. The same Oracle who’d made the prophecy about my father becoming king and having a prosperous rule, a prophecy that eventually led to my father making a choice that doomed me to live as a golden girl.

  “The Great Oracle.” The words come out shakier than I’d meant them to. If anyone has answers, it will be her.

  “We tried sending men to her back when . . .” My father trails off. “They never found her cave.”

  Nearby, Tilner whips his head around. He clears his throat and steps forward. “If I may, I’m quite fond of studying history.” His eyebrows scrunch in concern. “I studied all the literature I could about the Oracle as well. She’s a particular favorite of mine.”

  I stare intently at him. I’d given him a tour of the palace when he first arrived, and he spent half the trip telling me about the man who’d carved the columns in the front entryway. He knows more about my home than I ever will . . . maybe he knows more about my past too.

  I lean in closer as he speaks again. “From what I’ve discovered, the path to the Oracle isn’t always straight. Nor is it always there.”

  My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What do you mean it isn’t always there?”

  Tilner continues. “When I arrived here, I couldn’t help myself from interviewing several of the soldiers your father sent to find the Oracle. Some of them could see the pathway and some of them couldn’t. And even the ones who could see the pathway remember facing certain . . . challenges along the way, but none of them could recall what they were. And none of those men were able to find the Oracle.”

  I exhale. “So you’re saying we won’t be able to find her?”

  He shrugs. “There are cases where she’s been found, but I’ve been unable to find any links between those accounts. And none of them detail how she was found.”

  Royce sighs. “That’s not a lot to go on.”

  I tightly wrap my arms across my chest. He’s right. It’s not a lot to go on. But as I stare at the mangled bodies around us, I wonder what choice we have. “It might be the best option we have,” I say. “She could tell us what Dionysus wants and how to stop him.”

  “That sounds like a terrible plan,” Hettie exclaims. “You’re just going to roam around the mountains and hope you stumble across her cave? What happens if you get lost or get eaten by some creature? What if Dionysus shows up while you’re gone?”

  I rub my temples. I don’t want to leave the palace so defenseless, but how much worse will it be if we’re not ready with a way to defeat Dionysus when he does show up? “Hopefully Dionysus won’t attack if I’m not here, and hopefully the Oracle can tell us what he’s after.”

  “That’s if you even find her, remember,” Hettie groans.

  “Why don’t you stay here with Rhat and my father and work on plans to fortify the palace in case Dionysus does show up, while Royce and I look for the Oracle? Either we’ll find a way to get to Dionysus first or be ready when he comes.” Plus, I wanted her here in case Lord Lucar tried anything.

  “Fine,” Hettie says. “But don’t blame me when you get eaten.”

  Tilner nods. “I can continue my search for other options while you try to find the Oracle.” He stares off into space as though he’s already mentally preparing a list of books to read.

  “Thank you, Tilner.” I gaze out the window again.

  The sun sits low in the sky, not even close to midday. For some reason, I expected it to be higher. But it’s only been a few hours or so since I woke up, even if it feels like years. My consolation is that it’s still early enough to make it to the mountain today. Because I can’t risk Dionysus sending anyone else to attack the palace once he realizes his plan failed.

  “We’ll leave immediately,” I say.

  Leaving my father and Tilner to se
e to the cleanup of the main hall, I hurry to change.

  My new maid, Kattrina, helps me into a pair of light trousers and a dark shirt. I pull on a hooded cloak and short, thick gloves. At least I’d had enough foresight to have traveling clothes made after my last adventure.

  “Are you nervous?” Kattrina asks after I tell her about our quest. “I’ve heard oracles can be unpredictable.”

  I nod. But it’s not just nerves. As much as the thought of seeking her out makes my stomach turn, I’m more afraid she won’t be able to help us. And every moment we go without answers is another moment the kingdom is in danger, a danger my powers can’t protect it from.

  I only hope my powers will help us in the mountains, because who knows what we’ll face up there. I don’t like going in without knowing what we’ll encounter or without any sort of map to prevent us from becoming lost in the mountains forever.

  Prince Ikkin had written that you should never go into battle without first knowing the lay of the land, so you know not only the conditions but also where the enemy may hide, waiting to ambush you.

  His journal didn’t say anything about when you were already at war. And Dionysus had brought the battle to my front gate—no, through my front gate and straight into the main hall, where bodies lay still warm from life.

  Royce and I would just have to be prepared for anything—because I had no idea what beasts we’d encounter if we didn’t get answers from the Oracle.

  Then again, what will we encounter if we do?

  By the time I join Royce in the courtyard, he’s already mounted his horse. I stare up at the horse the stable master chose for me. It’s a dark mare slightly smaller than Royce’s mount. I approach it slowly.

  Animals don’t always have the best reaction to my skin.

  The mare stomps her hoof but doesn’t run away, and I let her sniff my gloved hand for a few moments before I mount. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a horse, and it takes me a few moments to gain my balance. I’m not even sure what happened to my previous horse. I’d stopped riding her the day my skin turned to gold ten years ago.

  I notice with the smallest bit of relief that Royce doesn’t look as comfortable on his horse as he does at the helm of his ship, so at least I’m not alone in my fears.