The Rising Gold

by Ava Jae

  Uljen’s eyes narrow. “Don’t ask for things you don’t truly desire.”

  “I don’t desire being reprimanded, but I do desire you getting whatever it is out so we can continue our work as normal. This stony, silent version of you makes our work more difficult than it needs to be.”

  Uljen rolls his eyes. “And that’s truly your concern, is it? That my stony silence is making your job more difficult? Well your releasing your criminal brother has made my job more difficult, so I think you can handle some stony silence in recompense, don’t you?”

  I grimace. There’s no use denying it. I’m not trusting him with new information if I admit he’s right—he already knows, and my denials have been useless. He already has a weapon of my ruination. He already has a truth that could destroy me, because the way he speaks it tells me he has no doubts.

  So as much as it terrifies me, there’s little use in denying it anymore.

  “I swore to my brother and Jarek that I wouldn’t let them execute him. I did what I had to to keep my word.”

  Uljen laughs, shaking his head. “And keeping your word to your traitor brother was more important than not betraying your people, was it? More important than justice? More important than making things right?”

  “Killing him wouldn’t have made anything right—”

  “That wasn’t for you to decide, Kora!” Uljen paces across my rug, his shoulders stiff, face incredulous. “Truly, I thought you understood that. What happened to Dima was never supposed to be your call—you were, and are, too close to the situation to be able to make an unbiased decision.”

  I snort. “Oh, and I suppose the rule of the Eight was unbiased, was it?”

  “They were more impartial than any decision you could ever make.” He shakes his head. “And even ignoring the morality of the situation—I can’t begin to fathom why you’d put your own life at risk to save a man who tried to kill you. Brother or not, Dima is not a good person. Surely you must know that better than anyone!”

  “I haven’t put my life at—”

  “Kora.” UIjen shakes his head and stares at me, wide-eyed. “Surely you must realize if anyone ever learns of your involvement in his escape, you could be sentenced to death in his stead.”

  My blood turns cold. My breath freezes in my lungs. “Excuse me?”

  “You really think such an action would go unpunished? Being an Avra doesn’t protect you from your own crimes—Dima’s sentencing should have been more than enough of a reminder of that.”

  I clench my fists and take a shivering breath. My voice comes out low and cutting. “Are you threatening me?”

  Uljen blinks and his eyes widen like I’ve slapped him. “What? Naï, Kora—you, you must know I wouldn’t expose you to anyone but … if someone learned of your involvement—”

  “And how would anyone learn of my involvement if you didn’t tell anyone?” I don’t mention to Uljen he’s not the only one who knows—that Lira knows, too. Because as sure as he has apparently been that I was involved in Dima’s escape, he never once mentioned Lira or the guards, so I can only assume he has no idea how they were involved. And quite frankly, it’s not something he needs to know.

  “I’m not—I’m not saying someone will learn of your involvement.” Uljen sighs and runs a hand over his face. “I’m not a threat to you, Kora. I’d never do anything to harm you. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

  My eyes narrow. “And why is that?”

  “Why?” He laughs weakly and shakes his head. “I know we’re not in a relationship, Kora—we’re just friends who enjoy each other, sha? But I still care and I thought the feeling was mutual.”

  I am, possibly, the worst friend on Safara because the feeling is mutual but I am terrible at trusting people. But could anyone blame me, after everything?

  Still. Uljen deserves better. “I … I apologize. You’re right.”

  Uljen purses his lips again and nods. “And I accept your apology. My point is merely I’m on your side.”

  And I want to believe him just like that, I do. And maybe part of me does.

  But the other part of me can’t help but wonder if it’s truly wise to trust anyone at all.

  It’s been a long while since I’ve addressed the people in the city square. For the longest time, my addresses had always been just outside the palace gates, because people were already gathered there, protesting, and I couldn’t have ventured father into the city even if I’d wanted to. But this time I actually have a relatively normal address. This time there aren’t protests, or screams, or tossed bottles and rocks. This time the people gather in the city square because they know I’ll be addressing them from there, and this time the murmur of the crowd is curious, uncertain, but not angry.

  At least, not yet.

  I take a careful breath, wipe sweat from my temple, and deliberately don’t touch my earring. The suns, as always, are hot, but at this time of the cycle, they feel closer. The heat is more intense, like I’m sitting just breaths away from the surfaces of the suns. Like they’re moments away from swallowing me whole.

  But it’s a familiar discomfort. It reminds me I’m home.

  “Thank you all for joining me here today,” I say to a quieting crowd. The guides hovering all around the crowd and in front of me amplify my voice, again and again. “I’m addressing all of you here today, because I’ve been made aware there’s an increasing number of you who want to join Inara, Kel’al, Invino, and Sekka’l in the movement toward secession. Many of you, I imagine, are supporting the secession because of your mixed feelings regarding the new Sira, which I understand. But I feel it’s important to remind you that unity of the territories under Jol eight hundred cycles ago has brought us the longest era of peace in our history. It was coming together and creating a single governmental system that works together with the territories that has allowed us to put down our arms and leave bloodshed and infighting behind as a thing of the past. And I truly believe Sira Eros intends to maintain that legacy.

  “I trust Sira Eros to do what he must to keep the peace and keep Safara as we know it—a unified whole. And ultimately, that’s the legacy I want to be a part of—and I believe it’s the legacy you want to be a part of as well. For that reason, Elja will remain, and I truly hope Inara, Kel’al, Invino, and Sekka’l ultimately choose to stay as well. Generations of peace have taught us unity is the best way forward, and I intend to do my part in ensuring it remains that way.”

  Murmurs rumble through the crowd like thunder, but there aren’t shouts of protest, at least. It seems they’re listening. I can only hope it’ll stay that way.

  I nod and turn away from the crowd, just as someone shouts out, “What will you do about the fugitive, Dima d’Elja?”

  I still and bite my lip. I take a deep breath and do everything I can to keep my expression as emotionless as possible as I turn back to the crowd. “Dima’s escape is under investigation, and some of our best men are out looking for him and his accomplice as we speak. The investigation will not rest until they are found and dealt with accordingly.” The words taste bitter in my mouth, even though I know they have to be true. I have to do everything in my power to appear as though I support the investigation. And I can’t interfere in any way. And I won’t.

  But I can only pray they’ll be unsuccessful. Because I can’t save my brother a second time.

  “You realize you’ve just effectively tied your fate to Eros’s by supporting him publicly like that.”

  My bedroom doors have barely closed behind us before Uljen’s criticism rains on my shoulders. I close my eyes and take a slow, steadying breath. “I’m aware.”

  “And you think that’s wise?” Uljen steps around the room so we’re facing each other again. The concern in his furrowed brow and deep gaze is genuine.

  “I don’t know what’s wise or what isn’t.” I shrug and pull out the clips holding up my hair, letting it fall over my shoulders. “But I’m not going to betray Eros again. Not even to ma
ke my people happy.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Is it?”

  Uljen shrugs. “You seemed perfectly fine with betraying him to try to save Dima.”

  I grimace. “Disobeying a ridiculous command that was devised only to make himself look better wasn’t a betrayal. I don’t have to do everything he says to support him.”

  Uljen smirks. “Technically you do. He’s ken Sira, and ultimately who you answer to.”

  “An Avra answers to Kala above their Sira.”

  “Uh-huh. And I suppose you think Kala wanted a murderer to walk free, did he? That seems rather convenient.”

  I frown. “Dima hasn’t walked free. He and Jarek have lost everything. And they’re wanted fugitives. Even if they manage to stay out of shackles, they’ll be hiding for the rest of their lives. I wouldn’t call that walking free.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s not the punishment he was sentenced, either.”

  “That wasn’t Kala’s punishment. That was the Eight’s punishment.” I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Can we please not argue over this? What’s done is done. I can’t take back what I did, even if I wanted to. I’m exhausted of this conversation and we need to move on.”

  Uljen hesitates, then nods. “You do realize this isn’t just going to disappear on its own, sha? This will be a continuous problem until Dima and Jarek are found.”

  “I’m aware. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a relaxing bath and not think about any of this mess for the rest of the set.”

  “Understandable.” He pauses. “Do you … mind if I join you?”

  My heart trips over itself. I stare at him, wide-eyed. “You want to … in the bath?”

  “Only if it won’t make you uncomfortable. I do want you to be able to relax.”

  In a way, I’m grateful he doesn’t state the obvious—that he’s already seen me undressed multiple times, so sharing a bath shouldn’t be a big deal.

  “I’m just … tired of fighting, too, and I’d like to be able to relax with you,” Uljen adds. “But only if you want to.”

  “Very well,” I finally say, and Uljen smiles.

  As we undress and slip into the large in-ground heated bath in my wash room, the whole experience feels—different. More exposed. Whenever I’d been this vulnerable with Uljen in the past, it was in the dark. We were painted in shadows and our eyes were frequently closed and it was more about touch and doing what felt good.

  But there’s nowhere to hide in my lit washroom, and the bath water is clear as violet-tinted glass.

  “May I ask you a personal question?” Uljen asks, after we’ve sat in the warm water in silence for a few moments.

  “You can ask,” I say. “I can’t promise that I’ll answer.”

  Uljen smiles slightly. “I was just wondering why until recently you always covered your scars.”

  My heart sinks to my toes. I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s asking—after all, he’s even more scarred than I am and he doesn’t hide at all. But the question brings a hot prickle crawling up my throat and the room already smells like smoke as I consider how to answer. “It’s … a reminder,” I finally say. “It always felt like a judgment of some sort, for something so horrible to happen at my coronation. Like Kala himself was telling the world he was angry I was Avra. I’m not sure I still believe that, but the feeling of judgment is still there and … even without that, it’s not a set I want to remember.”

  Uljen frowns. “That’s understandable … but perhaps you could consider giving them new meaning.”

  I glance at him. His scarred skin begins on his face and reaches down his hip and to the remainder of his leg. It’s on his chest, back, arm, and shoulder. It rips away Kala’s mark on his skin there entirely—Uljen was clearly much more injured from the attack than I ever was, and yet … his scars don’t seem to affect him like mine do me.

  “Did you never want to hide them?” The question is out of my mouth before I can think better of it. I grimace. That was hardly a question I should be asking. “Forget it—I apologize, I shouldn’t have—”

  “Naï, it’s fine.” Uljen smiles weakly. “I did—and for the longest time I didn’t want to look at myself in the mirror because the scars made me feel … ill. But hiding them was never an option for me, not really. It’s not like I was going to wear a mask, so I learned to accept it.” Uljen crosses the space between us, stopping just in front of me. He gently takes my scarred arm and kisses my pink skin. “Our scars aren’t a sign of weakness; they’re a reminder of our strength. Of what we endured and walked away from. Of our survival.” Uljen smiles at me. “And for that, I wear my scars with pride.”

  32

  Eros

  When Deimos wakes me for our morning run, I tell him I’m too tired and to go ahead without me today. It’s not a lie—I am tired after another night of sleeping in fits and starts and feeling no more rested when it’s over, but that’s not the real reason I want him to go without me.

  Mostly I need the privacy. Because if I’m going to do this boyfriend thing with Deimos, I need to research.

  Are there more important things I should be thinking about right now? Obviously. Between the plague, and the Remnant threat, and Sekka’l wanting to secede, and taking care of Mal, and juggling blazing everything, I should be spending every spare mo I have trying to fix something.

  And it’s not like I’m not trying. I’m going to be addressing everyone about the Earth possibility later today. But I’m exhausted. I need a mental break. And through it all, as much as I’m trying to be responsible, I can’t stop thinking about Deimos.

  So I grab my glass and turn it on, my heart already thrumming in my ears in anticipation of … what exactly I’m doing here.

  Fuck, how am I even going to research anything? I can’t read.

  I open up the feed, but that’s mostly just news and not helpful. I need someplace I can search, like I’ve seen Deimos do on his glass, but I don’t entirely remember how he got there. I try going through different pages on the glass—there’s a pad thing I think you can write on, some random screens I assume are games, then a blank screen.

  I bite my lip and glance at the door. This is going nowhere and I need to figure this out before Deimos comes back. Because I like kissing him—a lot—and I like holding him at night, but I think he knows I have no fucken idea what I’m doing because he hasn’t really … tried anything more. And I want him to. But I also want to know what I’m supposed to do.

  But this blank screen isn’t exactly giving me any answers.

  “Fuck,” I whisper. “How am I supposed to Voiding do this?”

  “Can I be of assistance?” the glass chirps in the same voice as the orb guides.

  I arch an eyebrow. I can talk to it? “Uh … sha. I need to do a … search.”

  “What would you like to search?” it asks.

  I bite my lip and glance around the room, my heart suddenly in my throat. Deimos isn’t here. He only just left, like, five mos ago so I have plenty of time. No one is here. Relax.

  I lean close to the glass and mutter, “How to … make men happy.”

  “Okay. Here are some videos on gift buying, popular men’s hobbies, vacation spots—”

  “Naï, naï.” My face warms. “Not … not that kinduv happy. Like … how to … you know …”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” the glass says. And of course it doesn’t. It’s a fucken glass, not a person.

  Fuck, I’m going to have to actually say it.

  “I need to search how to have sex with guys … when you’re a guy,” I whisper, as if someone is actually going to hear me even though the room is totally empty.

  “I’m happy to assist you,” the glass chirps happily. “Here are videos on men having sex with men, pleasing men sexually, anal and oral sex for beginners—”

  “Okay,” I say quickly. “Got it, thanks.” My face is on fire. Stars, it sounds so much more awkward with the glass announcing th
e search results to the room. But I’ve got it. Pages upon pages of videos. Which is good, because I don’t have to read.

  But I … also didn’t really think about what exactly I’d be watching to learn this stuff. But since I can’t read, there’s no other way to learn it myself so …

  I tap a video with a picture of a smiling young guy standing in front of a blank wall, which seems, um, less explicit than most of these other videos. He goes through tips on sucking guys off and stuff guys like and first-time tips using sex toys as examples, and just listening, even with ridiculously colored props and happy background music, makes me kinduv half-hard. So. Doubly glad Deimos isn’t here.

  I watch a bunch of videos, and, you know, it helps. There’s stuff I wouldn’t have thought of, like where and how to touch, and steps to take, and generally what to expect. And it’s—reassuring, kinduv, to see random guys my age casually talk about sleeping with other guys. I feel a little more prepared already.

  But then … there are a lot of videos of guys having sex. And even as part of me says you don’t need to watch this, you’ve already gotten the information you wanted, I hit one of the videos anyway. I mean, what’s the harm, right? I’m alone, and it might help me get a better sense of what it’s actually like because stars know I’m not going to have Deimos describe it to me, and even if he did that wouldn’t be the same anyway so …

  Whatever. It’s just a video.

  It starts off ridiculous. The men—who, I’ll admit, are unfairly attractive—flirt ridiculously and say stuff that would never work in real life and then they’re kissing and moving to a bedroom and the clothes start coming off.

  Like, really fast.

  I swear I blink and it’s suddenly two naked men on top of each other on a bed, and between the noises they’re making and the way they’re moving, I’m hard instantly. The room is an oven and I should probably stop watching this, but I can’t. There’s something—I don’t know—something magnetic about seeing two guys just enjoy each other. And even as I’m throbbing watching them move together, I don’t want to look away.