The Rising Gold

by Ava Jae

  I smile. “Thank you.”

  “Is the design genetic? I know it varies person to person, but does a particular … style get passed down parent to child?”

  “It can, sha. Though it’s not always parent to child. Sometimes it skips a generation or two. And sometimes the markings seem a little more spontaneous.”

  Lira nods. “Stand, please.”

  I do and she kneels in front of me, coating her hands in the paint before gripping my ankle and slowly running her hands up my calf. Her touch is gentle—almost intimate. She’s so careful to cover every bit of my skin, to touch everywhere that might be visible, to make sure I’m completely covered. And it’s bizarre, in a way, watching the paint spread over my leg and erase away the markings I’ve always had. But Lira did an excellent job—the shade she created matches my skin perfectly. As the shine of the wet paint dries to matte powder-smooth skin, I almost feel naked without Kala’s mark tracing a maze over me.

  Then she reaches my thigh and glances up at me. “I’ll have to go under your skirt a little, in case it gets kicked up. I won’t go too high.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  Once she’s thoroughly covered a decent way up my thigh, she moves on to the next leg. She works quietly, carefully, concentrating. She looks at me like an architect at a building, worrying her lip as she runs her slick hands over me again and again until my skin is covered. Until my legs, my stomach, my back and shoulders and arms and neck and face are all covered.

  “What about my ears and eyes?” I ask when she’s done.

  “Well the eyes are easy.” Lira digs into a small pack she brought and pulls out a tiny glass container with two little pools of liquid. Floating in each are clear circles with a ring of brown.

  I glance at her. “What is that?”

  “They’re eye colors,” she says. “You put them in your eyes and they cover up the color of your irises.”

  My stomach twists as I stare at her. “They … are masks for your eyes?”

  Lira laughs. “Don’t look so affronted. It doesn’t hurt a bit, I promise. Just look up and try not to blink until I tell you.”

  “Naturally,” I say as if it’s a simple thing to just look away and not blink while someone sticks their fingers in your eyes. Eventually, though, she gets them in and the uncomfortable feeling of something not right in my eyes fades a little more with every blink.

  “Perfect.” Lira smiles. “Now your eyes are as brown as mine.”

  “And my ears?”

  “Ah, right.” Lira pulls out two squishy gray half-circles from her pack. “I just have to paint these real quick, then we’ll fit and blend them over your ears. It’ll cover the notches. Hopefully.”

  “Hopefully?”

  Lira smiles weakly. “Well it’s not like I’ve had to disguise a Sepharon as a human before. But I think this should work. We had opposite versions to make our ears looked notched so … it’s similar enough.”

  And so it is. Half a segment later, my ears are adjusted and my body is painted and my eyes are a single color and I have to say—looking in the mirror, I can almost believe it. The illusion holds well.

  “Wow,” I say. “This is … there’s no way I would have been able to disguise myself like this. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She pauses and looks me over. “There’s just one thing left. Give me your left arm.”

  I do as she says and she picks up a small brush and dips it into a jar of black. She carefully paints on my upper arm and it only takes a moment to figure out what she’s doing—the marking I would have if I were truly a freed servant.

  “There,” she says when she’s finished. “Congratulations, Kora. You’re now a human. Sort of.”

  “Hopefully I’ll be human enough for the Remnant.”

  “Hopefully,” Lira agrees.

  Neither of us speak of what will happen if I’m not. We don’t have to.

  If this goes wrong, it may very well be the last mistake I ever make.

  52

  Eros

  It seems unnecessary, but we take a flying port to the meet point. I spend the whole time staring out the window, watching the sands shift from white to pink, swallowing my stomach as Deimos holds my hand.

  All I can think is this whole thing is probably a huge mistake.

  All I can think is I never should have agreed to send Kora to the Remnant base as a backup, not even with her insider contact, whoever she is. There’s too much that could go wrong—they could be found out, and then what? What if she’s hurt—or killed? What if I made these decisions without thinking them through—at least not enough? This could all go to the Void.

  It’s stifling in the port cabin. The air is thick and heavy. Suffocating. The low hum of the engines is an endless roar in my ears. I clench and unclench the hand Deimos isn’t holding and tap my fingers on my knee and try to breathe, try not to focus on how this is probably all going to go really, really wrong because if I focus on that, I might—

  “You aren’t hearing a word I’m saying, are you?”

  Deimos’s voice cuts through the roar in my head. I look away from the window. Look at him. Try to focus. He’s talking to me.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I do now.”

  “You’re panicking,” Deimos answers. It’s not a question.

  “I’m …” Deimos arches an eyebrow at me, daring me to deny it. I cave. “Okay, fine. A little.”

  Deimos snorts. “You can’t panic a little. That isn’t panic then, that’s just anxiety.”

  “What if I fuck this up?” I ask. “What if the whole Kora thing fucks this up? What if—”

  “Eros.” Deimos takes my face in his hands and looks me in the eye. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, of course we don’t. But whatever does, good or bad, we’ll handle it. Just take it a step at a time, shae? Worrying about what might happen next isn’t going to help you.”

  He’s right, but it’s not as easy as just … not thinking about it. If I could just not think about it I wouldn’t think about it. “I can’t just … turn it off.”

  Deimos smiles weakly. “I know. But I’m here with you, shae? Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. So do your best to focus on that.”

  I take a deep breath. Force myself to look at him and smile a little. “Fine.”

  “Sha, you are.” Deimos winks at me and takes my hand again.

  And somehow, he actually has me laughing again.

  53

  Kora

  “Where are you going?”

  The squeak that escapes my mouth is only half as embarrassing as the jolt that races through me and makes me take half a step back into Lira as Uljen emerges from the shadows of the hallway. “Kala above, Uljen, you nearly gave me a heart attack. What are you doing sneaking through the halls at this time of set?”

  “What am I doing?” Uljen squints at me. “What happened to your … did you cut your hair off?”

  “It’s a wig,” Lira says proudly. “Convincing, isn’t it? Bought it a couple sets ago—I picked it out myself.”

  Uljen stares at me and slowly shakes his head. “This … Kora, please tell me you’re not about to do something … ill-advised.”

  I press my lips together. Uljen will definitely think this venture is ill-advised, to say the least. It’s why I didn’t involve him; he wouldn’t understand why it’s necessary, why I have to do this to help Eros, and myself in the process.

  But I’m not going to lie to him. I’m participating in far too much deception already as it is.

  “Lira and I are going to Enjos to infiltrate the Remnant, as a backup plan in case Eros’s negotiations don’t go well.”

  Uljen’s eyes widen. “You—what?”

  “I know you won’t approve,” I say quickly, “but to be honest, Uljen, I don’t need your approval. I’ve already made this decision and told Eros I would—”

  “How could Eros ask you to do such a thing?” Uljen exclaims. He steps forward and grips m
y shoulders. “Kora, surely you must know how dangerous this is. Not only to you and Lira, but to Eros as well—if you’re found out—”

  “We won’t be found out,” Lira says. “We have a good plan. We’re going to end this together.”

  Uljen ignores Lira and keeps looking into my eyes. The terror in his face, in the tremble of his grip—heat snakes into my chest and curls in my stomach. He’s genuinely scared for me. “Please don’t go,” he begs. “I-I understand you feel as though you have to help Eros, and I understand supporting him is vital, but he can’t ask you to risk your life for him. This is too much Kora, please—”

  “He didn’t ask me.” The words come out so softly I barely hear them roll off my lips. “I volunteered. He’s hinging everything on a negotiation, Uljen. He didn’t have another plan, and if it fails—”

  “And what if it succeeds? You haven’t even given him a chance, Kora—”

  “Which is why this is merely a contingency plan.” I point to my ear. “I’m wearing a comm and Deimos is, as well. He’ll keep me updated, and if all goes well, Lira and I will leave without doing a thing. But we must be in place in case it doesn’t go well and Eros needs us to do something.”

  “Do something like what? Kill someone?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Uljen releases my shoulders and runs his palms over his face. “This is madness. You should send someone in your stead, not risk yourself.”

  I shake my head. “This is too important. I don’t expect you to understand, but I can’t trust anyone else with this.”

  “Then I’m going with you.”

  My words catch, stutter, and die in my throat as I process what Uljen just said. “You—what?”

  “I’m not letting you go in there alone. I’m going with you.”

  Lira snorts. “She won’t be alone; I’ll be there with her the entire time.”

  Uljen scowls at Lira so darkly it’s a little—frightening. “She needs someone she can trust.”

  Lira’s eyes narrow and she steps toward Uljen. “I have served Kora faithfully, not that I need to justify myself to you. But unlike you, Kora doesn’t base who she can trust and who she can’t dependent on whether they’re Sepharon or human.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Okay,” I interrupt. “That’s enough. Uljen, I’m sorry, but you can’t come with us. I need you here in case anything happens—and not to mention you’d ruin our cover story. I understand you’re worried and I appreciate your concern, but I’m going to be fine. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

  Even in the shadows, Uljen seems paler. “Please,” he croaks. “Kora, I don’t want to lose you.”

  Something twists—hot and sharp—in my chest. Uljen’s fear, his feelings, are genuine. And I hate that I’m hurting him, I hate that this decision is affecting him so profoundly. But I also hate that he doesn’t trust me to make my own decisions. That he thinks I need his guidance on every little thing.

  “I’m sorry, Uljen,” I say at last. “But you don’t want to be Avra-ko. You can’t lose what you never had to begin with.”

  And then I walk past him, swallowing bile and smothering the image imprinted in my mind: the hurt on Uljen’s face as I stepped on his heart and walked away.

  The closer we get to Enjos, the more sure I am this was a terrible idea. When the city’s remains rise on the horizon, my stomach churns painfully and the heat of the early morning sticks to my skin. As Lira maneuvers the bike over the smooth red sands, and the first buildings drift past us, my heart beats in my throat like a fist.

  And when we stop in front of the abandoned temple where I kissed Eros, where I came with Deimos to rescue him, where the Remnant has their base hidden deep beneath the sand, I can barely force my lungs to take in air.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  Worse still, I can’t stop seeing Uljen’s face as I walked past him. As I reminded him he didn’t want a serious relationship. As I told him to stay behind.

  Why do I push everyone away? Why do I sabotage my relationships again and again?

  But am I really this time? Uljen doesn’t want the responsibility of having a serious relationship with someone in power. Someone like me. He wants to keep our relationship open. He doesn’t want to commit.

  So why did it feel like a betrayal when I reminded him of his own wishes? Why does it feel like I’ve done irreparable damage to a relationship I thought was going well? Why must good things end?

  “You … don’t look well.” Lira smiles weakly and takes my hand. “Everything is going to be fine—they’ll be more than happy to welcome you to the base, don’t worry.”

  I suppose we can’t speak openly, not here. The Remnant are watching and listening. Even before I’ve seen anyone, even before we’ve entered the temple, our deception has already begun.

  Then Lira hugs me and brings her lips close to my ear. “Are you sure about this?” she whispers hot against my skin.

  I’m not sure. I’m nowhere near remotely sure. I’m a breath away from outright panic, from getting back on the bike and driving away and never returning to this Kala forsaken place.

  But if I’m being truly honest, if I’m thinking rationally, the chance to back out was several sets ago. Right now, Eros is counting on me to provide him a way out if he needs it. I’ve already told him I’ll be there. He’s already planning on having this contingency plan ready.

  It’s too late to back out now.

  So even though I’m nowhere remotely near sure, even though I’m wishing more than anything I could turn back time and never suggest this to begin with, even though I’m starting to doubt the wisdom of this plan, I nod and answer back in a whisper of my own.

  “I’m sure.”

  We uncover a door buried in the sand not unlike the one hidden in the temple sand garden in Vejla, climb into cold, complete darkness, and walk in the eerie, silent black for what feels like much too long. We have only a small light that Lira brought to reveal our steps. Finally, Lira taps my shoulder and motions to a thick, black, circular door at the end of the impossibly long tunnel.

  “Not so bad, right?” Lira says lightly.

  My heart thrums endlessly in my ears.

  Lira turns to the door and speaks. “Hey, everyone, this is the girl I was telling you about. Her name is Enna. Let us in, please.”

  A moment later, a deep thunk echoes through the hall, followed by a noise like thunder as the door rolls into the wall, clearing the way for us to enter. We step over the lip of the doorframe sticking out of the sandstone ground and enter.

  “Lira,” a pale woman says, and then that’s about all I understand because the rest is in redblood. I wipe my sweaty palms on the sides of my thighs and try to keep my breathing even. The two speak to each other for a couple moments while Lira gestures to me and I try not to feel so out of place—though I suppose feeling out of place would be natural even if I were a redblood.

  “So you only speak Sephari?”

  I start at the words I can actually understand. The woman is speaking to me. “Sha,” I say. “I was raised with a … a Sepharon family before I began at the palace complex.”

  The woman nods. “That’s not a problem—we’ll teach you English. You’re not the first in need of language lessons and I’m sure you won’t be the last.” She smiles kindly. She seems genuine. And she isn’t looking at me too closely, so I suppose maybe this disguise is actually working. I imagine the dim lighting down here helps as well.

  “Thank you,” I say. “I … appreciate your hospitality.”

  “And we’re happy to welcome you to our family, Enna.” She smiles and nods down the hall. “Lira will take you to your new room. Most everyone isn’t awake yet, but once they are, we’ll have you registered.”

  “Thank you.” I smile softly at Lira, who smiles back. Her eyes say everything she isn’t speaking: that I had nothing to worry about, that everything is going fine, that maybe this wasn’t such a terrible idea after all. Maybe
Eros actually won’t need us, and we’ll be able to go back home without incident.

  But as I walk down the quiet hall with Lira, I can’t help but suspect that daring to hope for so much is dangerous.

  54

  Eros

  Rani is already there when we arrive. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing—on one hand, we don’t have to wait, but on the other it would have been good to get the place checked out before we started talking.

  The meeting spot outside of Jel-Ta is a quiet, barren area. The sand is pink—a weird mix of the gritty white sand and soft red powders from home, and it feels harder, somehow, as we walk on it. Almost packed. And warmer than the white sands I’d gotten used to in Asheron.

  Rani is standing next to a prickle plant bush, arms crossed, two bearded men with long hair, who as far as I can tell are identical, on her either side. There’s something about them that keeps drawing my gaze back; they’re tall and built like—

  Wait. They have markings. They’re Sepharon. And I think I know them.

  “Since when do Sepharon work for the Remnant?” I whisper to Deimos.

  Deimos lifts an eyebrow and shrugs. “I didn’t know any did, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

  “I know them. They’re the guys who nearly executed me in Jol’s Arena.”

  Deimos’s eyes widen and he looks at the men again, then back to me. “Are you sure?”

  I glance at them again, meet their steely gazes. I didn’t get a really good look at them that set, if I’m being honest, but I remember them. And maybe—if they were working for the Remnant all along … were they how I got uncuffed? Did they help plant the bombs that destroyed the arena and let me escape?

  “Good to see you, Eros.” Rani looks me over like you might an opponent. Which I guess I am to her, now.

  “Sure.” I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders back. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I’ve never wanted to fight with you or the Remnant. Let’s end this; no one else has to die.”