A Touch of Gold

by Annie Sullivan

  I shiver.

  “That’s just it,” I force out, dragging my gaze away from the gold. “He can’t. Dionysus was very specific after my father begged to be released from the curse. The god told him to take everything that had been touched down to the spot where the river met the ocean to be washed before the sun set on that very day.”

  I’d so often heard my father and uncle repeating the words Dionysus had said to them: “Make sure everything gets washed as I instructed, or there could be unhappy consequences. For my gifts take on a will of their own sometimes, and if it’s not fully cleansed, especially from humans, well, sometimes they find their own ways of surviving.”

  “My father bathed in the water,” I recount to Aris, “and had me carted down as well. My skin turned back to normal, and after that, he forgot about the other objects.” I ignore the memory trying to surface of suddenly finding myself underwater and a halo of white light shining through the deep blue water as I sputtered back to life.

  “My skin was gold again at sunset.” I shudder, remembering how I thought I was turning back into a statue. My skin never hardened—it just took on its awful hue. “And the next day, my father started showing his first signs of weakness,” I continue. “He’d lost the ability to turn things to gold, but everything he’d already turned was still enchanted, still contained a piece of him.”

  At first, I didn’t understand the turmoil the gold was causing in my father’s life. I didn’t understand magic has a way of seeping into the soul like a poison bent only on making its victim do as it says. And the longer my father left the objects in their golden state, the more the magic pulled at him, convincing him that he needed the gold.

  I toss the chair fragment back into the pile at my feet.

  “Then we have to get it back,” Aris says. “For your father.”

  Pheus appears in the doorway. “You shouldn’t be up here.” He’s talking to me, but his gaze switches to Aris. He starts to gesture for the duke to leave, but he must’ve overheard part of our discussion and decided it was too late for that.

  “I’m all right,” I say, pulling Pheus’s gaze back to me. It’s not exactly the truth. I’d rather be anywhere else in the palace right now. Even the swan fountain.

  He displays no emotion. “So, it’s gone. I expected as much.”

  “Who could have taken it?” I ask. “No one else knew it was here.” Pheus had carried the table up with the help of several servants who’d been paid off. But the servants had never known about the other objects.

  “I don’t know,” Pheus replies. “I’ve alerted a few of my most trusted guards to discreetly search the city and check what ships were in port this morning.”

  “Why can’t we just tell the people it was stolen?” Aris asks. “It would make it almost impossible for the thieves to sell it that way.”

  “If we did that, we’d have to tell them why the gold is so important in the first place,” I say. Everyone knows all the palace gold was exchanged for silver ten years ago, when my father and Uncle Pheus learned that keeping gold around me was dangerous. We’d dealt in silver ever since. Announcing the gold had been stolen would eventually lead someone to question why that particular gold had been kept, why we needed it back now.

  “Whoever has that gold,” Pheus adds, “holds the fate of the kingdom in their hands. We don’t want to start an uprising, and we can’t have the monarchy appearing weak.” He clasps his hands. “I doubt they’d ransom it, and even if they did . . .” He trails off before admitting we couldn’t afford it.

  The kingdom has barely survived on the meager tithes people can manage after the Orfland Wars ravaged so much.

  “What else can we do?” I say. Now that I know the gold is gone, I want to leave the room and its memories behind. But if I don’t get answers now, I’m afraid my uncle will shut me out of the discussion about what should be done for my father.

  “I fear there’s not much else we can do,” Pheus says. “Your father is being moved to his bedchamber as we speak. I imagine he’ll continue to weaken as the gold moves farther away. Unless my guards find the gold before the thieves smuggle it away, I’m afraid the healer might be our only hope.”

  My uncle sighs. “I’m sorry, Kora.” He turns to leave, no doubt to take up vigil next to my father’s bed as he’s been doing for years.

  The glow coming from the table seems to increase along with my heart rate. I try to catch Aris’s eye, but he seems fixated on the table.

  His tale about his own father echoes through my mind, how he’d tried to dig his father out but had been too late. I can’t let that happen to my father.

  “Wait,” I call, stalling Pheus, and praying I don’t regret my words. “I might be able to find it.”

  “What?” Pheus’s eyebrows shoot up. “How?”

  Aris’s eyes jump to mine.

  “I can . . . I can sense the gold,” I say quickly. I wring my hands. If nothing else, it prevents me from reaching out to the table.

  This isn’t exactly how I hoped Aris would find out about one of my side effects. Actually, I had hoped he’d never find out. Especially when it came to the other one.

  I’d never told Pheus about my ability to sense the gold for the same reason I never told anyone else. I didn’t need everyone watching my eyes, seeing if I was looking toward the tower, waiting for the day the gold would take over my thoughts. Things were bad enough after I killed that man, and though I was young, I’d learned to keep my mouth shut, even around my family.

  “What do you mean?” Pheus asks cautiously.

  “Ever since . . . it happened, I’ve been able to sense the other objects my father turned to gold. That’s how I knew to come here . . .” I trail off, staring at the floor.

  “Why have you never mentioned this before?” Pheus looks around the room to make sure it is secure for such a conversation.

  I’m afraid to look at either of them. “I . . . I don’t know.” I can’t admit I don’t want them to think I’ll lose my mind to the gold like my father has.

  “How could you keep this from me, Kora?” Pheus demands.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Uncle Pheus looks like he’s about to snap at me, but instead he takes a deep breath. “No, this is good news. I just wish you’d told me sooner. By now, the thieves may have already departed on an outgoing ship or have a lead on us over land. Can you sense the gold now?”

  “I can’t pinpoint its exact location,” I say. “It’s more like I know when I’m getting closer.” I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing. I’ve never looked outside the palace. But I can do this. I have to.

  I reach out with my mind. I don’t know how long it takes—it feels like I stand there forever, eyes closed and fists clenched. But eventually, I sense a familiar aura, and I follow the light. After the table, the tapestry is easiest to find because of its size. I locate it with the other objects. They keep sliding up and down. I’ve never concentrated on the objects for so long. I wonder if they’re bouncing up and down because I can’t control my connection with them.

  I shake my head to break the connection. I then stretch out my hand in the direction they’re traveling and open my eyes. “There.” I point to the far wall. Toward the ocean. “Somehow, they’re moving. They must be on a ship.”

  “This certainly changes things,” Pheus says, rubbing his chin.

  “I could take one of my father’s ships and go after it,” I say. My heart, already beating quickly from having to track the gold, skips several beats at the thought of sailing out of Lagonia’s harbor and straight for the gold.

  “You’re much too valuable here,” Pheus replies. “If something were to happen to your father—”

  “I’m the only one who can find the gold. How long do you think my father will survive without it?”

  Pheus frowns, troubled by my question. “You haven’t been out of the palace since you were a child. You’re not ready to face the world outside. It wouldn’t be safe.”r />
  “If you’d allow me, I could go with her,” Aris says.

  I shoot him a look of surprise. I can’t believe everything he’s learned about me, about what’s going on, hasn’t scared him away. His generosity, his loyalty to the crown, makes my chest swell. I haven’t encountered kindness like this in years.

  “Thank you, Duke Wystlinos,” Pheus says. “But I’m not sure I’m comfortable sending my niece away with a man I don’t know.”

  His words threaten to send a blush creeping across my cheeks. Despite his gruff demeanor, Pheus has always looked out for me, more than my father has in the past ten years. And despite his desire to keep me safe, I know Pheus can’t come. Someone has to look after my father and the kingdom, to make sure Archduke Ralton doesn’t try anything. Pheus is the only person I trust.

  “I have to be the one to go,” I add, pleading. “No one else can track it.”

  “It could take two weeks or more to outfit the Royal Armada for such a journey.” Pheus’s eyes jump around as he makes calculations. He lowers his gaze, his shoulders deflating like my father’s always do. “Even if I let you go, you might not make it in time.”

  My eyes land on Aris. Maybe we don’t need an entire armada.

  “What about Ar . . . Duke Wystlinos’s ship?” I blurt out.

  Aris’s face brightens as he steps forward. “My ship is much faster than anything in the Royal Armada, and I could have it ready to sail with tomorrow morning’s tide.”

  “Yes,” I practically shout. “And his crew has experience dealing with thieves and pirates.”

  “Indeed,” Aris replies. I can already see the adventurer in him rising to the surface. It’s like seeing one of the heroes from my books come to life. “With your ability to locate the gold and my crew, we’ll have no trouble getting the cursed items back.”

  Pheus paces the length of the room several times. I watch him, saying nothing. It’s always better to let him think than to force him into a quick decision, and this decision could mean my father’s life or death.

  I rub my fingers together to keep them from shaking.

  “We could pass it off as a suitor taking the princess out sailing for a few days,” Uncle Pheus says slowly, “since that’s something she’s always wanted to do.”

  If I wasn’t so nervous about what happened the last time I touched a person in this room, I would hug him. “Thank you, Uncle Pheus. I promise, I won’t let you—or Father—down.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Aris says with a nod. “We leave in the morning.” He gives me a reassuring smile, which I return, even though the reality of what I’m about to do starts to sink in.

  The three of us depart from the tower, and the golden table sends its flashing shadows chasing down the winding steps after me. It’s only when we reach the hallway below that I feel I take my first real breath since stepping into the room.

  The guard’s body is gone by the time we reach the stairs, but I can’t help but overhear one of the other guards say that they haven’t been able to find the head.

  My stomach clenches.

  Maybe the rumors about Captain Skulls are true. Or maybe it is a copycat. I pray it’s only a coincidence. But it doesn’t matter. I’m still going to have to face whatever twisted soul is capable of doing that.

  CHAPTER 5

  I’m frozen. My father’s shapeless, faceless form comes at me in the night. His arms snake out toward me and coil around my body. He grasps me so tight I can’t breathe. My lungs burn. Tears escape down my cheeks. When he releases me and recedes back into the darkness, I watch helplessly as liquid gold slithers up my body. My flesh crusts over with a thick golden coating.

  I claw at the gold before it can reach my arms. My fingernails screech against the metal glaze, but it’s no use. The gold continues on unhindered. It constricts across my throat, crushing it so I can hardly breathe. Gold pools in my mouth, further choking me as it slides down my throat. It heads straight into my lungs and weaves its way toward my heart. It always ends at my heart. One beat. Two beats. There are no words to describe the agony of feeling your own heart stop.

  I bolt awake. Beads of sweat dot my brow. Morning dawns through the window, but I don’t feel rested at all, having dreamt of gold and thieves and headless corpses all night long.

  My skin glows ever so softly in the darkness, and I hold up an arm to inspect it. Where freckles should dot my skin, a metallic sheen shimmers. It looks like someone has taken golden flour and doused me in it. I drop my arm back down and get out of bed.

  I dress myself in a simple green dress—no maid wants to touch a cursed girl, so I’ve never had the luxury of wearing complicated outfits. That’s also why the dress hangs limply on my slim form, since no tailors will get close enough to measure me. They just guess and send over their best estimates. Unfortunately, their estimates aren’t very good.

  I look around my room, wondering what else I should bring on my trip. Haphazardly, I toss a few more dresses into a trunk, followed by shoes and cloaks in case we run into bad weather. I linger over my bookshelves, running my fingers over the spines of the thick leather books I’ve taken from the palace library. The ones like Captain Corelli’s Account of the Sea. After I’d forgotten what the real sea smelled like up close, the ocean smelled like the ink and mustiness of its pages.

  A few seashells sit in front of the books.

  My mother had come from Sunisa, a country known for their seafarers. Before she died, she would take me to the shore to collect seashells, and after she was gone, I imagined every shell that tumbled out of the surf at my feet was sent by her. I’d look at my reflection in their glossy surfaces and for one second pretend that it was her looking back at me.

  My trips to the seaside stopped after I turned to gold, but that was all about to change today.

  I go back to my preparations, tying my waist-length golden hair into a thick braid. I’ve always wondered if I shaved it all off, would it grow back its original color—a deep brown like my mother’s?

  Once I’m fully dressed and packed, I pull on my gloves, but my hand lingers on my veil. For once, I want to feel the breeze wash across my face. I want to see the streets of Lagonia. But that means leaving so much of my skin exposed. It’s not just the ridicule I fear, but the knowledge that if someone touched my skin, they could be hurt. Killed. Turned to solid gold.

  I must be feeling brave or crazy because I leave the veil where it sits. Praying I don’t regret the decision, I pull out a cloak and tie it around my neck, yanking the hood low over my face.

  My stomach is in knots while I direct a servant to take my trunk outside, to where I hope Aris is waiting. The servant tries his best not to look at my face as I speak, but he chances a few furtive glances. When he finally sets about his task, I linger in the hallway outside my room, debating whether I should go to my father’s room to say good-bye. My stomach twists even more, and I decide against it. He can’t bear to look at me on a good day. I don’t want to make him worse. He’ll need all the strength he has left to survive until I can bring back the gold.

  The palace is quiet as I make my way through the halls, and once I’m outdoors, I find a small wooden cart waiting. Not exactly a transport fit for a princess, and I smile slightly, knowing Hettie would throw a fit if she were asked to ride in it.

  My heart pinches slightly when I see Aris hasn’t come to escort me himself; instead, Uncle Pheus waits next to the cart, looking as nervous as I feel. To my surprise, he pulls me into a hug.

  “Be safe,” he says. “My brother’s life is in your hands.”

  His words pierce my heart, and I nod numbly as he pulls away.

  “You can do this,” he adds, patting my shoulder, reminding me of all the times he’s been there to protect me, to guide me when my own father couldn’t. It’s the reassurance I need to climb into the cart.

  I stay far out of sight from the horse. Animals haven’t always reacted well upon seeing my skin.

  The driver puts up a
good show of not trying to scoot farther away from me. But he does.

  Uncle Pheus waves good-bye, and I turn for one final look at the palace. I spot Archduke Ralton standing on one of the balconies overlooking the courtyard. No doubt he’s wondering where I’m off to. Hopefully Uncle Pheus’s excuse about Aris taking me sailing works because I’m unnerved by Archduke Ralton’s watchful gaze.

  As soon as a few last-minute supplies are loaded into the cart, the driver snaps the reins and the horse trots forward. Its hooves clop against the cobblestones in the almost-deserted courtyard.

  The last time I rode down the streets was ten years ago during the Rose Festival, an annual tradition in Lagonia. My father and I, and my mother before we lost her, would toss rose petals from the carriage windows. They were supposed to bring good luck if they landed on you. After the carriage had passed by, the people lining the streets would rush in and grab handfuls of the petals and toss them at one another.

  That all stopped after The Touch. Though the festival continued, we didn’t go out into the streets and toss rose petals. We didn’t celebrate. We didn’t have any good luck.

  I can’t imagine how the streets have changed in the past years.

  We arrive at the palace gates, and they open, the metal screeching on its hinges. As we leave the royal grounds behind, city air rushes over me, clinging like oil to my skin.

  On the wealthier houses close to the palace, old columns race upward to support tiled roofs. Those buildings give way to the small shops tucked away behind intricately carved archways that line the avenue. Narrow, twisted alleyways that lead into the less savory parts of the city flank the shops. Inside the shops, darkness presses against the closed shutters.

  It’s too early for most people to be out and about in town, and I feel strangely disappointed that I don’t get the chance to see more of my kingdom’s people, no matter how much I worry about their reactions. I see a few merchants carting their wares to the main avenue and setting up under the arches. Around them, men haul olives, others roast almonds in a giant pan over an open flame, and others lay out woven rugs and tapestries for sale.