A Curse of Gold

by Annie Sullivan

  I’m about to offer her Royce’s jacket when Phipps makes a show of taking off his shirt and offering it to her instead. His pasty skin stands out amidst the shadows of the forest.

  The woman takes the shirt and touches her hand to Phipps’s cheek. “I’m sorry about your arm.”

  “Don’t worry, my lady,” Phipps says. “We’ll get you out of here.” He offers her a lopsided grin.

  “Enough mooning,” Hettie snaps at Phipps as he smiles at Janalisa, oblivious to the island falling to pieces around us.

  “This way,” Janalisa says as more fireballs rain down from the sky. Royce stays close to keep her from falling as we race along the edge of the gap.

  “Are you sure we should trust her?” Hettie asks, coming up next to me as we fight our way through the jungle.

  “I couldn’t leave her here. And she hasn’t attacked us yet.”

  “Yet,” Hettie mutters.

  Her words are echoed by a rumbling sound. But this one is different than all the ones before it. It’s not the gurgling roar of the volcano getting ready to spew ash and lava. This is deeper than that somehow, more like a low moan.

  “The island is sinking for the night,” Janalisa wails, nearly tripping as she turns toward us. “We have to hurry. If your feet are still on land when ocean water touches you, you’ll be trapped here forever.”

  “What do you mean forever?” Phipps calls, breathing heavily. His arm drags down his entire side.

  I check the cup, but all the liquid sloshed out while I was running. I should’ve made him drink from the cup back at the stream. I scan the gap beside us, but the rest of the water and its banks have already fallen away.

  “If you’re standing on the island when it’s sinking,” Janalisa explains, “you can never escape. And the way it’s looking now, I don’t think it will ever rise again.”

  “Will you be able to get off?” Phipps asks.

  Her brow crinkles. “I’m hoping drinking from that cup removed every hold he had on me. But there’s only one way to find out.”

  More and more ash and rock rain down through the trees. A piece burns through my sleeve and scorches my shoulder before I can brush it away. The ash comes down like thick, dirty snowflakes, clogging the air with the scent of hot dirt.

  I pull the neckline of my shirt up and breathe through it.

  Next to me, Hettie’s hair has turned entirely gray due to the falling cinders.

  “There’s a giant tree up ahead,” Janalisa calls over her shoulder. “It has the biggest roots on the island, so if there’s any place the island might still be holding together, it’s there. We can use the vines hanging from the tree to swing across.”

  The ash is starting to pile up around our feet, burning with every step. The air is so hazy I can’t tell if the gap has gotten any smaller or if I’m just imagining it has.

  Ahead, a massive tree is silhouetted against the glowing volcano. Thick, sturdy limbs reach out in all directions, and from them hang hundreds of vines.

  “We might be able to climb the tree and use one of those bigger branches to walk across to the other si—.” Janalisa’s words cut off as a roar sounds through the jungle.

  But this isn’t the roar of the island falling to pieces.

  A giant shape looms out of the trees around us.

  A satyr.

  And it’s not alone.

  Three others drift out of the forest along with the man whose body is made of weapons.

  The satyrs bolt forward.

  “Hurry, climb,” Janalisa says. She staggers toward the vines as Royce rushes to face the closest satyr.

  My heart pounds as we burst through the outer layer of vines. They’re as thick as my wrists and covered in moss and ash. The vines whack against us from all sides as we set them moving in our rush to push our way toward the base of the tree. But it’s obvious from the grunts behind us that we aren’t going to make it there in time.

  Rhat leaps onto a vine and pulls himself up to a low branch.

  “Give me your hands,” he yells.

  I shove Janalisa toward him, and Hettie grabs his other hand. Rhat’s muscles strain as he pulls both arms upward at the same time until both women can reach the branch he’s on.

  Phipps tries to climb the vine next to me, but with his diamond arm, he’s not making any progress.

  “Kora,” Rhat calls. He reaches down for me.

  “Phipps first,” I reply. I toss Hebe’s cup up to Hettie and get under Phipps, trying to shove him upward so he can reach Rhat’s hand.

  Rhat grunts at the effort of trying to pull up Phipps and his arm. I push upward as hard as I can. Slowly, Phipps starts to rise.

  But not fast enough. Out of the corner of my eye, the vines start to shake. Then they disappear entirely as a satyr rakes its claws across them, sending each coiling to the ground.

  I shove Phipps upward, and he scrambles onto the branch. But it gives the satyr time to advance.

  “Kora,” Hettie screams. “Look out!”

  I duck out of the way just in time to avoid the spiny claws as they rip toward me. The satyr presses forward, bits of ash spewing from its nose as it grunts.

  Two other satyrs shadow behind it. They leap upward, trying to get their claws into the branch where Rhat stands with Phipps. They shove vines out of the way and run along the tree branch in the direction of the gap. The satyr in front of me presses forward.

  I stumble backward, letting the vines swing closed like a curtain between us.

  Swipe.

  Swipe.

  More vines tumble to the ground.

  The beast’s hooves pound into the ground, echoing the groaning of the island.

  My back collides with the trunk of the tree. The rough bark cuts into my shoulders.

  The satyr dives for me.

  I duck to the side.

  The satyr crashes into the tree, its claws buried deep in the wood.

  I dash around the trunk and find a low branch. I ignore the pain in my stomach as I haul myself onto the bumpy bark.

  The satyr charges around the tree and leaps up after me.

  I fight my way along the branch, clinging to vines. I climb from one branch to another, ignoring the sharp cuts in my arms and legs. Up and over I climb, swinging under and around limbs trying to get back toward the gap. My chest heaves. My fingers burn from gripping the coarse boughs. I climb onto another branch, but it’s not much thicker than any of the vines.

  The satyr clambers up behind me. Its eyes burn bright red as it takes me in. For a moment, I can’t understand why. Then I feel it. Heat rising up my backside like I’ve caught fire.

  Down below, the gap lights up as thick, black-crusted lava spills its way through toward the edge of the island.

  The satyr moves farther out.

  I scoot onto a branch behind me, which starts to sag. Then there’s a sickening crack as the satyr’s claws rip into my perch. The limb tears free, and I plummet downward. I hit one branch and glance off another. Before I can even register pain, I’m falling again.

  Searing red streams around me as I spin, catching glimpses of lava spiraling ever closer.

  I land on a thick branch. A dull ache radiates through the entire front side of my body. But there’s no time to dwell on it, because the limb I’m on quivers as the satyr jumps down on it. Then it creaks as my attacker slides farther out.

  I crawl forward. The gap blazes below me, swallowing all the ash that falls into it. Heat waves crest over me, evaporating the air in my lungs and sucking the air from around me.

  I blink away the ash that lands on my eyelashes and scan the tree for the others. I don’t see them anywhere. There are only empty vines strangling down around me. I grab on to one and pull myself to my feet, turning to meet the satyr.

  It charges forward, nostrils flared.

  I let it come. Even as the branch bounces and threatens to break, I tighten my grip and stand my ground.

  “Kora,” Hettie cries from somewher
e behind me, the sound muffled by all the ash around us.

  Still, I don’t move.

  When the satyr’s hooves leave the branch, leaping for me, I kick off the branch, swinging backward over the gap. The satyr’s body follows me, but it doesn’t have a vine to cling to. It crashes downward into the lava and lets out an ear-shattering scream as it melts into the red current.

  I fly back toward the tree, my feet fighting to gain traction as my fingers slip on the vine. I twist back out over the lava pool. My shoulders burn, and I dig my fingers into the flesh of the vine, causing white sap to leak out.

  Finally, I sway back toward the branch. I stretch my foot out and knock ash away to find moss, then pull myself onto the branch, sucking in air.

  “Kora,” Hettie calls from the other side of the gap. “Use the vine to swing over.”

  “Be sure to get a running start,” Phipps says. “Or you won’t make it.”

  “Where’s Royce?” I call into the foggy ash.

  “Here,” Royce cries, heaving himself up a branch next to me. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I nod and adjust my grip on the vine.

  I scoot back down the branch, giving myself room to run forward. I tell myself not to focus on the swirling red torrent spinning in the crack. The one that will swallow me if I don’t swing far enough.

  I rip my eyes away, focusing on where the lava’s glow illuminates the far side I’m aiming for.

  “On three,” Royce says. “One, two, three—” He runs forward and leaps, swinging far out over the lava toward the other side.

  I move with him, but before I can leap, something snags my leg.

  “Going somewhere?” the weapon-bodied man asks. His ax pins my pants to the branch while he brings his sword around to swipe at my legs. I pull on the vine, ripping my pants free just in time to leap over his blade.

  “Kora,” Royce calls. “Where are you?”

  The island quakes, and the tree sways violently back and forth. I cling to the vines as they jostle around me, pelting me from all directions. A portion of dirt at the base of the tree plummets into the lava, and the tree jolts downward. My heart goes with it as the tree jerks to a stop.

  But then the tree starts to lean. Straight toward the lava. Several limbs sear off as they brush against the unending stream, and small flames lick upward.

  The vine I’m clinging to tilts outward. I fly out over the lava, barely keeping my grip as the tree halts. But it won’t stay stopped for long. The lava slowly consumes the tree. Limb by limb. Vine by vine. Leaf by leaf, with a crackling quickness.

  “Give me Hebe’s cup,” the man demands. He extends the flat side of his ax like a hand.

  “If you want to be cured,” I say, “we can help you. We’ll give you the cup.”

  He laughs. “It’s not for me. It for Dionysus. When I help restore him, he’ll reward me for killing you. He’ll give me even more powers.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t have it.” Droplets of sweat edge in around my fingers, greasing my palms. I slip farther down the vine as my grip loosens again and again.

  “Kora!” someone calls to me again.

  The man wraps his elbows around the vines to keep his feet planted on the branch as he leans forward, staring across the island’s gap. “Then I’ll kill you and take it from your friends instead.”

  “Get out of here,” I scream over my shoulder, not even sure if the others can hear me.

  The man edges closer to where I hang.

  I risk letting go with one arm. I flail for the other vine, but it’s just out of my reach.

  I yank my arm back as my body slips down the vine I’m on. I clamp my legs tighter around it.

  Bits of lava spit up below me.

  The entire tree sinks faster with the added weight of the man moving closer to the pit. The lava bubbles closer and closer. I search for a way out. But the man is blocking the only close branch, and my hands are slipping more and more. I’m out of ideas.

  “Kora!” Shouts come from the other side of the gap.

  The tree shifts downward.

  My knuckles burn as my fingers curl tighter and tighter. My arms start to shake. My feet can’t get any traction.

  I try to reach for another vine again, but my fingers glance off.

  The man laughs, displaying a set of metallic teeth. Then he swipes his sword toward the top of my vine, trying to cut it loose. A small slit appears. The man edges nearer to try again. Near enough I could almost touch him.

  Near enough I could turn him to gold. I glance down at the one last golden button hanging on Royce’s jacket. It’s all I have, but I’ll need to let go to absorb it. And my legs are already slipping downward.

  The man pulls back his sword, taking aim once more. Just as he swings forward, I grab the golden button with one hand. And then I’m diving toward him. But I don’t make it. Instead of crashing into his legs, I crash into the branch he’s standing on.

  The entire tree flashes gold and careens to the side under the new weight. I try to keep my grip on the branch, but I can’t get any traction on the metal. My hands slip off.

  I fall and smash into a branch and glance off. I spiral around and around as I plummet downward. The lava rears toward me like a mouth waiting to swallow me whole.

  CHAPTER 31

  Heat races through my body. My cheeks flush with warmth.

  My blood boils.

  And then the temperature cuts off with one final blast of heat that soars upward as the entire stream of lava turns a hard, beautiful shade of gold.

  I landed on my stomach, and I don’t need to roll over to know I absorbed the gold from the tree on my way down. I don’t want to move at all. Not only because of the throbbing ache pulsing up my arms, but because I know what’ll happen if I reabsorb the gold.

  “Kora!” Hettie shouts. She leans over the edge of the crack, sending sprays of dirt down on me. “She’s okay,” she says over her shoulder. “Get a vine.”

  She looks back down at me, sending her uneven hair spilling forward. “Hang on. We’ll pull you up.”

  I carefully get to my knees, making sure not to lose contact with the gold and reabsorb it. I contemplate rising to my feet, but as the island trembles, I can’t risk being thrown off balance. I scoot toward the other side of the gap, but the trembling doesn’t stop. I make it to the wall on the other side just as that part of the island jolts away from the gold.

  I nearly tumble into the gap when a vine drops in front of it. I grab on and in the process crash into the wall of the pit. And then I’m being pulled into the air.

  I drag along the dirt until I’m back on solid ground. Once I am, Royce pulls me into his arms. “I thought I’d lost you again.”

  “You will lose her if we don’t get out of here,” Hettie chimes in, reminding us again we’re still not safe.

  She’s right. The ground hasn’t stopped shaking.

  “The man with blades all over him—he’s over there somewhere,” I say, panting. “He attacked me.” I scan the tree branches, but the vines rattle along with the island, making it impossible to track his movements.

  “We don’t have time to worry about that,” Hettie says. “The island is sinking fast.”

  I scan the tree one last time before I follow the others and dash back into the jungle.

  We angle toward the beach. It’s amazing how much shorter the journey seems when I’m not overcome by fever and pain.

  In no time at all, we burst out onto the sands of the beach. The sky is entirely black with smoke.

  Down the beach, the men wait atop their pegasi. They alternate staring between the jungle shadows and the rising tide. But just the fact that they stayed warms my heart. They could’ve immediately fled, but they didn’t. Not even after seeing that half the beach has already been swallowed by the ocean.

  The waves dart precariously close to our feet. Janalisa’s warning not to let the water touch you rings in my ear.

  “We have to hurry,�
� Janalisa calls behind me. “The island sinks slowly at first, but then speeds up the closer it is to being fully submerged.”

  Up ahead, through the haze of ash, the pegasi are packed nearly right up to the waterline as the island sinks farther and farther.

  “Go, get out of here,” Royce calls to the men as we dash closer over the uneven sand. “Go,” Royce says again, throwing his arm into the air to encourage them on.

  Slowly, the men start taking to the sky and disappear into the smoke.

  Two figures stay on the beach with a handful of riderless pegasi as we near.

  One is Lenny. The other is Triton.

  “Lenny, fly away,” Phipps calls as a wave crashes in front of us, cutting us off.

  More and more of the sand disappears as the island continues to sink. Only a few arm’s lengths of beach remain. And they’re disappearing fast.

  “Hurry,” Triton cries as we get closer.

  But we’re not going to make it. The water’s rising too fast. It slides up the beach in front of us, cutting off our route. Rhat pulls Hettie back before she careens into the tide. She clutches Hebe’s cup close, haggard breaths ripping from her chest.

  A wave floods into the jungle. Another slices in behind us, and we jump together to avoid being hit.

  Triton leaps off his pegasus and plants his feet on the beach. He stares at the waves and raises his hands.

  There’s a great creaking. And the island starts to rise, water running over the rocks and back into the ocean as it drains. More and more of the beach comes back into view.

  But no, it isn’t the island rising. It’s the water fleeing, pulling away from the island.

  “I can’t stop the island itself from sinking,” Triton says. “I can only control the water.”

  A small hedge of water grows at the edge of the island, growing taller and taller as the island sinks downward.

  We rush forward to the pegasi.

  “Go on, get out of here, Lenny,” Phipps says, bringing up the rear of the group as his arm drags in the sand.

  Lenny guides his pegasus forward, taking with him several of the riderless ones as well. A stark reminder of how many souls we’ve lost on this island.