The Rising Gold

by Ava Jae

  I’m finally getting enough sleep and I’m still fucken exhausted. But at least Mija has less to complain about even if I still feel blazing awful.

  “You only look half-dead instead of completely dead these sets,” she says cheerily as she paints skin-toned whatever under my eyes. “At this rate, you’ll look almost alive without my help in no time.”

  I laugh weakly. “Won’t be long after that before I look completely alive and then I won’t need you to paint my face. What then?”

  Mija snorts. “You think this is all I do? Who do you think picks out your outfits every set?”

  I hesitate and glance up at her. “Uh. Deimos?”

  “He helps sometimes, but he’s been pretty busy with his advisor duties. You know, like helping you run the planet and also keeping you warm at—”

  “Mija.”

  She snickers. “Don’t worry, el Sira. I have plenty to keep me occupied. You won’t get rid of me so easily.” She winks.

  Today’s meeting with the Council is in the throne room since our regular meeting room is getting decontaminated, which we’re doing to every room every three sets now. It’s not exactly convenient, but all the precautions we’re taking seem to be working, because none of the palace staff who stay within the complex have gotten sick yet.

  “As the techies have had to split their attention on renovating the ships and fixing the nanites, it’s taking longer than we originally expected,” Tol says. “Which is understandable, but we need to make sure the ship project doesn’t delay the nanite fix for too long, or we’ll start to run into issues with famine in the south.”

  “I thought the southern nations were getting food shipments from us and Daïvi and … somewhere else to avoid that,” I say.

  Tol nods. “They are, sha, but we only have so much excess food in store. Like I said, if this goes on for too long, everyone’s resources will run thin.”

  “Do we have some kind of estimation of how long it’ll take with their attentions split as they are?” Rion asks.

  Tol shrugs. “Not a full term for the ships—maybe a couple spans. The nanites will take several terms, however.”

  “Well as soon as they’re done with the ships, they can refocus on the nanites,” I say. “At this point a lot of humans on People Speak seem eager to go so … they’re equally important.”

  Partway through the mid-set meal, Deimos stops eating altogether and frowns at his glass. He doesn’t even notice when Mal swipes a roll off his plate, which is probably the most concerning sign of all.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “Shae, just …” Deimos drums his fingers on the table and leans back a little. “The team I have monitoring the People Speak feed flagged this message for me to look at.” He looks up at me. “It’s from someone claiming … well, let me just show you.” Deimos passes over his glass. The image he has up is of a guy, or, actually, I’m not sure. But the person has short, curly hair just long enough to cover their ears, brown skin slightly darker than mine, and rigid, angled markings. But no tattoos. Interesting.

  My marked hand tingles. Still feels weird to have something so intentional—something respected that I once hated—permanently on my skin.

  There’s something about them that feels—off. Not necessarily in a bad way, but … maybe it’s their eyes. As far as I can see from here, they seem to only be one color: an orange-tinted brown.

  Deimos taps the glass and the video message plays. “Thank you for your time, el Sira.” The person bows their head. “My name is Ven. I wanted to contact you, el Sira, because for the longest time I thought I was alone. It wasn’t until recently that I met others like me, others in hiding. And that knowledge completely changed my life, but I … I don’t think you know it yet, and seeing how important the information was to me, I thought it was important to share with you, too.”

  What is this kid Voiding talking about? I glance at Deimos, but he’s just tapping his finger on his chin. “Keep watching,” he murmurs.

  I look back at the screen.

  Ven smiles. “The message I carry is about you, el Sira. You’re not alone.”

  What is that supposed to fucken mean? I’m not alone? I’m not alone in what? But then Ven takes a deep breath and speaks again.

  “You see, I’m just like you. I’m a half-blood, too.”

  39

  Eros

  Unsurprisingly, rumors about my supposedly spending the night with my female assistant spread through the palace faster than sand in a windstorm. And I’ve allowed them to fly, because disputing anything would ruin the story I used to get Lira out of the cells, and if I’m being completely transparent, that people think I’m romantically involved with Lira doesn’t bother me.

  If they need something to talk about, I’d rather it be about my relationship with Lira than about Dima’s escape or something negative about my capabilities as a ruler.

  Thankfully, the rumors don’t seem to bother Lira, either. Or at least, if they do she hasn’t said so. She thanked me when I had her released and has stayed by my side ever since—whether out of duty, trust, or to give credence to the rumors, however, I don’t know.

  On my way down to the morning meal, Uljen stops me in the hallway. “May I speak to you for a moment?” He glances at Lira beside me, then back to me again. “Privately, if possible.”

  So this is about Lira, then. And the rumors. I suppose I should have expected that. I lift a shoulder. “Will it take long?”

  “Naï, it shouldn’t.”

  I nod and look at Lira. “You can go ahead to the meal hall. We’ll join you shortly.”

  Lira nods and goes as Uljen and I step into an empty side room. When the doors close behind us, I look at him expectantly.

  Uljen hesitates. “I’m … sure you’ve heard the rumors about you and Lira.”

  “Given that I started them, sha, you could say that.”

  Uljen laughs weakly and runs his hand through his hair. “Right. Well, I understand you said that to protect her so she wouldn’t be implicated in the escape, but …”

  I wait, but he doesn’t finish the sentence. “But?” I prompt.

  He hesitates. “I probably shouldn’t be asking, and if the question makes you uncomfortable you don’t have to answer, I just … is it true?”

  I blink. “Uljen, you know what I was doing that night.”

  “Naï, naï, I know that. I just meant your relationship with her. Is it truly what everyone seems to believe it is?”

  I tilt my head. “Would it bother you if it was?”

  “Not at all. I’d actually be … relieved, I think.”

  It takes me a moment to process that. He’d be relieved if I were not-so-secretly in a relationship with another person? “You … would?”

  He takes a deep breath. “Obviously, I am looking much farther ahead than I should be at the moment, but it’s just … occurred to me that if our relationship ever became serious … I don’t want to be Avra-ko, Kora.”

  I stare at him. “You don’t want to be Avra-ko.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  I laugh. Uljen grimaces and I shake my head. “If you don’t want to help rule, then what was that nonsense when you first introduced yourself in which you said you wanted to be Avra in my stead?”

  Uljen’s grimace deepens. “I didn’t say I wanted to be Avra. I said the people wanted me to be Avra. Which was true. I had to propose it to show I was listening, even if I sincerely hoped you’d refuse. Which I thought was a safe bet.”

  “Uh-huh. So what is it, exactly, that you’re trying to say?”

  Uljen pauses. “I don’t want an … official relationship with you. I like what we’re doing and I greatly enjoy spending time with you, but I don’t want to marry you and take on the responsibility of a nation. I understand that means you’ll eventually have to marry someone else, and that’s okay. I’d like to keep our relationship … open. To see other people as we see fit, while still enjoying each other casually
.”

  While it’s not a suggestion I ever expected to come from him, in a way, it’s a relief. As much as I like Uljen, I’m not ready to commit to anyone right now, nor is it something I really feel is important to focus on. Keeping things casual between us is the best I could have hoped for.

  “That’s fine,” I say. “I’m happy to hear it, actually. But you are aware being Avra-ko isn’t remarkably different from your current position as my top advisor.”

  “But it is,” Uljen says. “The advising part itself may be similar, but I can stand off to the side now. I’m not the center of attention. And I think we both know whoever you marry is going to have endure everyone’s attention with you, far more than I’d ever be comfortable with. And Kala forbid anything happened to you …” He shakes his head. “I’m certain I couldn’t handle it.”

  I nod. “Well enough. Thank you for being honest with me.”

  Uljen smiles and nods. And we walk to the dining hall together—without expectation.

  40

  Eros

  Another half-blood? How can that be—but I thought—

  “I want to talk to them,” I say at the same time Deimos pauses the message with a tap and says, “They could be lying.”

  We look at each other. “Why would they lie about being a half-blood? Admitting as much can get you killed.”

  “Ordinarily, shae, but telling you significantly lowers that risk, don’t you think? You’re obviously not going to punish them for being a half-blood when you yourself are one.”

  “Fine, but that still doesn’t answer why they’d lie about it.”

  “To make you like them,” Mal pipes up around a mouthful of bread.

  “Precisely. Just look at how you’ve already reacted, Eros—first thing you said is you wanted to speak to them. How many non-royals are given the opportunity to have an audience with ken Sira?”

  “Not enough,” I answer flatly. “Which was the point of People Speak.”

  Deimos pauses. “That’s true. But you understand what I’m saying, shae? People are going to try to manipulate you to gain your favor.”

  “If you thought they were trying to manipulate me, then why even show me?”

  Deimos hesitates. Glances at the glass, then back at me. “Because … I acknowledge they might not be.”

  I look at Ven more carefully. Their markings are clearer than mine—easier to see on their darker skin—and their hair covers their ears, so really the only indication they might not be fully Sepharon is the single-colored eyes I noticed earlier. Which, given how dark their eyes are, could easily be overlooked.

  “I want to talk to them through the glass,” I finally say. “Can you arrange that?”

  “I imagine so, but it’ll depend on how responsive they are. That said, all things considered, I imagine they’ll be responsive.”

  Deimos imagines right. Three segs later we’re in a private room in the library, facing a giant wall-glass as the connection establishes. The room is small, windowless, with a floating stone table long enough for maybe three people. When Lijdo and Fejn tried to stand in here with Deimos and me, we were a little crowded, so now they’re standing just outside the room. But I like the privacy of this small space. Plus it feels more official than my other private option, my bedroom.

  And then Ven is bowing their head on the wall-glass, and when they look up, they’re smiling. “El Sira, truly, it’s an honor to have your ear. I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to speak with me.”

  Maybe the polite—the properly royal—thing to do would be to buffer this conversation with polite formalities or whatever, but I jump right to the question that’s been steadily growing louder in my head since seeing their message this morning.

  “You’re a half-blood.”

  Ven nods. “I don’t really like that term … but sha. I am.”

  “Excuse me for asking,” Deimos says, “but do you have any way to prove it?”

  Ven tilts their head. “Well, my eyes are my biggest physical tell … except for this.” Ven moves their hair aside, revealing their ear. Not quite notched like the Sepharon, not flat like humans. Instead they have the same kinduv raised ripple I do.

  It’s proof enough for me.

  “Stars,” I mutter. “There are other half-bloods.”

  Deimos nods slowly. “You said you don’t like the term half-blood. What term would you prefer?”

  Ven shrugs. “We don’t really have one we’ve all agreed on or anything. I just tell people I’m biracial and let them assume I mean my parents come from different territories.” Ven smirks but I catch on part of their sentence.

  “Wait. All agreed? You mean there’s … more of us?”

  Ven smiles. “Shae, we’re out there. Hidden, all of us, obviously. Those of us who can pass for Sepharon or human generally do and keep the truth to themselves but …” Ven gestures to me. “Some, like you, can’t really get away with that, so they just keep under the feed best they can.”

  I play their words again and again in my head. It’s more than just Ven—there are other half-bloods. I’m not the only one.

  There are others out there just like me.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Deimos asks me. “You look a bit faint.”

  “Shae, I’m … just …” Feeling like the world just opened up under me. Like the walls are falling over. Like the suns have collided and the moons aren’t really moons, after all.

  “It’s a lot to take in, I know.” Ven laughs lightly. “I only learned the truth a couple cycles ago and I felt like my world had turned over.”

  Wow.

  “How many more of us are there?” I ask.

  Ven runs a hand through their hair. “I don’t have exact numbers—and there are probably more than any one of us are aware of … but I know of twenty-six. Including you.”

  “Of all ages?” Deimos asks.

  Ven nods. “The oldest is an eighty-seven-cycle-old woman. The youngest is three.”

  “And how did you survive?” I ask. “You said you stay under the feed but … what does that mean?”

  “I can’t answer for everyone, but the one thing we usually have in common is our mothers didn’t go to medical centers to have us if they were Sepharon, because they knew what would happen. Those of us with human mothers never really had the option to go a center anyway, obviously.” Ven shrugs. “My parents were friends—my mother is a Sepharon shopkeeper in Kel’al and my father is human—from the same territory. They eventually developed what my mother called a casual relationship, though it was never really casual for my father. And the pregnancy was unintentional.

  “I was lucky, though. As you can probably tell, I generally pass for Sepharon. I didn’t even know I was a half-blood until I was fourteen; because I was such a friendly kid, my mom was afraid I might tell someone.”

  “But didn’t you know because of your dad?” I ask.

  “I never met my father. He died of some human illness before I was born.”

  “Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

  Ven shrugs. “I would have liked to have met him but … I suppose in the end it was for the best that I didn’t. My mother was right not to tell me—I probably would have told someone. I was terrible with secrets as a child.”

  Deimos smiles thinly and nods. “We certainly appreciate you reaching out with this information. But is … that the only reason you wanted to contact ken Sira?”

  Ven’s smile fades. “I wish, but it’s not the only reason, naï.” They look right at me, their face more serious, sober. “I want to know why you haven’t done anything to help us yet.”

  I blink. “I … didn’t even know there were others to help until you just told me.”

  “Naï, I get that, but even then, there are laws still in place that are literally killing us. The law that demands the execution of half-blood babies, for example, or the law that makes inter-racial relationships illegal. I know you’ve had a lot to handle but those laws aren’t even that con
troversial to revoke in this age. But you haven’t done anything, and we’re still dying. Kafra, it’s still illegal for either of us to be on this planet, alive, breathing, and that law may not be enforced in the palace complex there in Asheron, but there are still people around the globe in hiding and dying every set because of it.”

  My stomach twists as the room heats around me. But they have a point. And yeah, I’ve been overwhelmed with everything, and if I’m being honest, changing things for half-bloods hadn’t even crossed my mind since taking the throne. But it should have. I can change things for people.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “You’re completely right. I’ve been trying to do too many things at once and … I didn’t think of it. But I appreciate you reminding me, seriously. I needed it, and I promise I’m going to do everything I can to remove the anti-half-blood laws as soon as we fix this whole … nanite-virus thing.” I pause. “And since there are more half-bloods around than I thought, I’m happy to add them to the pool of humans eligible to go to Earth, if any want to go. I’ll have to talk to Earthers about it, but they mentioned they have other species living there, too, so I don’t think it should be a problem.”

  Deimos grimaces next to me. I’m not really sure why—he can’t seriously object to my getting rid of those terrible laws and including half-bloods in my thinking, can he? But he doesn’t say anything, so I ignore it for now and turn back to Ven.

  “I want to invite you to stay here as a guest after Asheron is plague-free. I’d love to get to know you and hear more about—about people like us.”

  Ven smiles. “I’d be honored to tell you more.”

  I grin. I still kinduv can’t get over this—there are other half-bloods! Alive, living away from the eye of the government like I had most of my life. And it makes sense others had survived and lead quiet lives like mine used to be. But with the laws the way they are and the daily reminder of how dangerous it was for someone like me to see another sunrise, I’d always assumed there just weren’t any others.