A Touch of Gold

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A Touch of Gold Page 19

by Annie Sullivan


  They seize him and pull him farther down, causing the boat to dip forward again.

  I grab on to the rope behind Hettie. She strains in front of me, the frayed cord rubbing her hand until it starts to bleed. I lean forward to get a better grip, and the hilt of the dagger in my belt loop presses against my ribs. I ignore it. Rhat was once a pearl diver. He can probably hold his breath longer than almost anyone. We still have time.

  Soon, my gloves slip on the rope. They’re silk and not meant to grasp anything rougher than a teacup. It isn’t long before the threads break. The rope chews into my scarred palms, and I bite back a cry.

  The scent of metallic blood mixes with the saltiness of the sea.

  Rhat kicks at his captors, and for a moment, he breaks free. He bobs to the surface, his eyes wide. Hettie leans forward, dropping the rope. She tosses the lantern, and it lands on one of the dry ledges of the cliff face. With frantic eyes, she stretches her arm out to Rhat. But then the Temptresses reappear, pinning Rhat’s arms to his sides. They pull, and Rhat sinks like a stone toward the piles of gold.

  The boat goes with him, water pouring over the edges. Hettie screams and leaps up, causing the boat to rock and sink even more.

  The other torch at the back of the boat goes out, and water continues to stream in. If I want any chance of getting Hettie and myself back to the Swanflight, I’ve got to cut the rope. Now.

  The golden water illuminates the scene below us, and I stare at Rhat. His kicking and squirming have slowed. The Temptresses surround him, and they’re not going anywhere. They’re content to slowly drown him.

  I grab the knife from my belt. I pull the rope taut with one hand and press the knife against it. I pause. The moment I cut the rope, I sentence Rhat to death.

  Somewhere behind me, Hettie is screaming the same word over and over again: no.

  I can’t tell if she’s screaming at the Temptresses or at what I and my knife are poised to do.

  I take a deep breath and make my decision. I pull the knife away from the rope and tuck it back into my belt.

  “Hettie,” I say, “do you see that cup down there?” I point to the one gleaming brighter than anything else.

  She stares into the dark water. “I think so.”

  “After I jump in and distract the Temptresses, swim down and get it.”

  “No.”

  “Hettie, there’s no time for arguing,” I say.

  “You get the cup. I’m going to go down there and show those Temptresses that they messed with the wrong woman this time.” There’s a gleam in her eye I’ve never seen before. And I think maybe the Temptresses have messed with the wrong woman.

  I nod.

  Hettie splashes over the side into the water.

  I jump over the other side. Cold water swallows me, but I fight back to the surface, choking as I emerge.

  In an instant, one of the Temptresses arrives. She doesn’t touch me. Instead she circles, spinning in endless loops around me, watching, waiting.

  When she’s behind me, all I can feel is the swoosh of water pressing against my body. I throw my arms out, turning around, trying to keep her in sight.

  Maybe she won’t attack me. I decide to risk it and put my swimming skills to the test. I take a deep breath and dive toward the cup.

  Something yanks me back by my hair, causing me to expel all my air. I’m pulled to the surface.

  “Foolish woman,” the Temptress hisses. “You and the other female leave now and we won’t hurt you.” Her words flow like water out of her mouth. “Stay, and you’ll receive his fate.”

  “Please, he’s my friend,” I say.

  The Temptress laughs. “Males can never be trusted.” Using her inhuman strength, she tosses me back into the boat, where I land in a heap. The water sloshing around the bottom absorbs most of the impact. Thankfully, the front end of the boat sits above the waterline, no longer taking on liquid.

  “We don’t want to hurt you,” the Temptress says. “Especially since you look to be as cursed as we are.” She rises out of the water so her elbows rest on the edge of the boat. A graceful hand absently twirls a strand of waterfall hair. I imagine she must’ve been quite pretty when she was a human, given her high cheekbones and full lips.

  With a flick of her fingers, she sends water toward the last two torches. They sputter out.

  I swallow. All the salt water I’ve inhaled has dried out my throat.

  “No doubt a man made you that way.” The Temptress’s voice winds around me, like a gentle tide pulling a seashell back into its grasp. “I can sense your pain. It’s the same pain my sisters and I share. We can help you channel it. You could become one of us and get back at the men who hurt you, the ones who used you.”

  The rest of the world falls away as her words conjure up images of Aris in my mind. Of all the moments he wanted to leave Hettie behind and make a run for it. Of every time he touched me, pretending to care for me when it was all a lie.

  “Don’t let men ruin your life any longer,” the Temptress coos.

  I start to nod, but the action shakes loose the hold her words have on me. I fumble for the rags Royce gave me to put in my ears, but the hand of the Temptress darts out, stopping me.

  “Revenge is sweet,” she continues.

  I stare up into her face. It’s so lovely. So kind.

  “Don’t let them lie to you anymore. Don’t let them trick you anymore. Don’t let them hurt you anymore.”

  Her words hold such truth. It’s like I’m as transparent to her as she is to me.

  She smiles softly. “I want what’s best for you. And that’s to get away from those who want to use you.”

  I try to speak.

  The Temptress shushes me. “Think of all the men who’ve hurt you. All the ones you couldn’t trust.”

  My father’s face when I turned to gold flashes before me. Uncle Pheus jumping when I turned the library rug to gold. Overhearing Rhat and Royce. Aris. They’ve all hurt me. They’ve scarred me.

  I glance to where Rhat lies motionless on the bottom of the sea floor guarded by one Temptress. Deep shadows play across his face. I don’t need him. He’ll just hurt me if I save him.

  Hettie’s standing on a shelf whacking a Temptress with a silver platter. She’s screaming something I can’t comprehend. I open my mouth, but was it to tell her to stop or to keep going? Before I can make up my mind, the Temptress draws my attention once more.

  “They need to pay for their sins.” Her voice is harsher now. “They need to learn that they can’t hurt us just because we’re women. We need to show them how strong we are.”

  That’s what I want. I want my father, my uncle, my people to know I can rule.

  She holds out a transparent, watery hand. “Join us.”

  I extend my hand forward.

  I meet her gaze. Her eyes are as bright as the reflection of the gold pool I can see through her body. To anyone else, it might seem like a halo, a golden aura, a warm, beckoning light. The only light amidst all this darkness.

  Not to me.

  My hand freezes.

  If I’d been anyone else other than the cursed daughter of King Midas, I might’ve taken her outstretched hand. I might’ve given in to the promises she offered. But I’ve seen enough golden auras to know to stay away from them. They don’t hold the promises and riches you think they will.

  And she’s wrong about the men in my life too. They’re already seeing how strong I am because I’m the one outside the palace saving my father—saving my kingdom. I’m the one out here facing the Temptresses, and now it’s up to me to save Rhat too.

  I rip my hand away, and the hold she has over me shatters.

  Her smile drops. Her face takes on darker undertones, the deep blues and blacks reserved for the depths of the oceans.

  I stumble away from her. “No,” I say. I shake away the remaining effects her words had on me.

  Was I really willing to let Rhat die that easily? To give up on my father?

/>   I stand up, looking down at the Temptress. She has no power over me now. I pull the knife from my belt.

  Her eyes narrow. She grabs the edge of the boat. “If you’ll not join us, then you’ve sided with mankind. And we’ve sworn to kill mankind.” She begins rocking the boat.

  I waver, trying to keep my balance.

  The Temptress lets out a screech, using all her strength to drive one side of the boat down into the water.

  Before I can find anything to cling to, I vault over her head into the water, losing my grip on the knife.

  A loud crack sounds behind me.

  Bubbles float all around my body, clouding my vision. Through them, I can make out the boat broken in two, sinking fast to the bottom.

  I kick back to the surface. The water has become choppy again, as tumultuous as when we first arrived. The current pushes me. I can’t see the Temptress anywhere.

  “Kora,” Hettie calls. She reaches out to me, but a watery claw grabs her ankle, pulling her into the water too.

  The Temptress who grabbed her wraps her arms around Hettie. My cousin struggles against her captor, bubbles escaping from her lips.

  I dive toward Hettie, but I only get halfway before another Temptress appears next to me. She wraps her icy hand around my leg and drags me through the water. I kick with my other leg hoping to connect with some part of her, but she’s too nimble.

  She shoves me toward the bottom.

  Above me, the surface has become a liquid reflection of the gold along the bottom. The gold I’m about to crash into.

  I glimpse both Hettie and Rhat pinned to the bottom, and for her part, Hettie is still struggling. The Temptress switches her grip to pin me next to them, but my kick connects with her chest as she moves to wrap her arms around me.

  I make a break for the surface and grab on to the ledge as a wave flings me forward. I flop onto my back, and there’s a moment of pain. Then I feel it. Right there on my neck. I’ve touched something gold.

  Every fatigued muscle springs back to life, energized by the gold, each fiber fortified by metal strands that wrap themselves around every available surface. The whole world is my canvas. I can reach out and paint anything gold.

  The Temptress speeds toward me with a look of renewed rage on her face and her hands extended like claws. I don’t have time to move before she leaps. Her nails dig into my shoulders.

  I scream.

  The gold pulses around inside me, but she doesn’t turn.

  Water. She’s made of water, which is too pure to be affected.

  A wave crashes over us, breaking the siren’s hold and dragging her back into the water. Before she can catch me, I leap to my feet, running across the ledge. The Temptress keeps pace in the water below me, reaching out to try to grab my foot. I jump over her scrabbling hand.

  I need a weapon. I grab a silver candlestick, and the gold that had been pounding around inside me drains into it. I swing it at her when she leaps up again, but my aim is flawed. She catches it, trying to pull me into the water.

  I let it go.

  I quicken my pace over the shelf. Platters and gilded treasures pass beneath my feet. It’s hard to figure out what’s gold and what’s not. I avoid it all.

  Up ahead, the lantern rests on the shelf. The fire winks invitingly.

  Fire.

  That had been what Captain Corelli had said she thought could defeat the Temptresses. I’d forgotten about it because it seemed so farfetched. They were made of water. Why would fire affect them?

  But I pray Captain Corelli was right because she’s my only hope now.

  I dive toward the lantern just as the Temptress leaps out of the water. She pulls herself up the shelf so her upper body is visible. I swing the handle just as her face appears next to me.

  The lantern crashes into her. Glass shards from the broken panes reflect light as they soar around us.

  A stream of oil bottled at the bottom explodes over the Temptress. It covers her watery body, running down it, mixing with it. It catches the flame and becomes a ball of fire.

  She screams, clawing at her face. Her body sizzles everywhere the flame touches. Bubbles rise to the surface and release thick white mist. She’s boiling from the inside out.

  Then, all at once, water explodes in all directions. It fizzes where it lands in the cool ocean.

  I shield my face with my arm and stumble back against the cliff wall. Scalding water bites through the sleeves of my shirt and leaves small burns on my arms.

  Loud screeches pierce the air, and the two remaining Temptresses speed toward me. I raise the lantern, which still has just enough oil to keep burning, threateningly toward them. They glare up at me through the water and I stare back.

  They must not like what they see in my eyes, or within the lantern, because they turn and flee, leaving a trail of bubbles in their wake.

  As soon as they’re out of sight, the water calms.

  A flurry of movement on the ledge across from me catches my attention. Rhat and Hettie climb up the piles of treasure, the latter coughing up water as she ascends. I let out a sigh. Hettie looks like a freshly washed cat. The water has tamed her hair, taking away several inches of volume.

  Despite her appearance, she doesn’t seem to have lost any energy. “We did it,” she laughs. She holds up the cup that makes everything else look cheap due to its inner glow.

  Rhat smiles, pulling Hettie into a hug. How is he even alive?

  “I thought you were dead,” I call over to him. “You were under the water for so long.”

  “An old pearl diver’s trick,” Rhat says, as if that explains everything. “Stay calm and don’t move—it helps you conserve air.” Rhat unties the rope that secured him to the sunken boat and tosses it into the water.

  The splash is echoed by another one. For a moment, I think the Temptresses have come back, but the sound’s coming from the mouth of the cliffs. Royce’s oars splash into the water as he rows another longboat toward us.

  “I saw the boat go down and heard you screaming,” he says as he glides toward us. “I couldn’t sit the fight out after that. Are the Temptresses gone?”

  “Aye,” Rhat says. “Kora took care of them.”

  “I knew you could do it,” Royce says, taking my hand and helping me into the boat.

  “Let’s just get out of here before they come back,” I say. My shoulders ache where the Temptress dug into them.

  “What about all this gold?” Hettie protests as Royce rows over to them. She’s already draped several strands of pearls around her neck and is holding up some gold earrings.

  I’m about to respond, but Royce beats me to it.

  “No time,” Royce says. “Kora’s right. We don’t want to be here when they get back.”

  Royce really isn’t like Aris. He doesn’t care about the gold. A wealth of treasure sits unguarded at his feet, and he’s not interested. Not even to fix his ship.

  Rhat pulls out a burlap sack from the back of his trousers. “But, Captain,” he says, “I brought this just in case. I thought at the very least we could grab a few things to tide the men over since we won’t actually be giving them Kora’s gold.” He looks at Royce expectantly.

  Royce rolls his eyes. “You have until we row over to you.”

  Rhat whoops and hollers. He starts shoving everything he can into his bag.

  Hettie grabs an emerald-laced silver tiara and a strand of sapphires as they wait for us to row the short distance to them. I doubt she has any plans to share with the crew.

  By the time we reach them, Rhat’s bag is full and both he and Hettie have heaps of gold clutched to their chests. They toss it into the boat, far from me, and climb in.

  “You know,” Hettie says as Royce and Rhat fight the current back to the Swanflight, “those Temptresses really weren’t as bad as everyone said.” She holds up a gold ring with a square ruby set atop the band. “And I rather like their sense of style.”

  Whether it’s due to pure exhaustion or
a small bit of happiness that no matter what changes, Hettie will always be Hettie, I can’t help but laugh as we head back to the ship.

  CHAPTER 24

  When we get back to the boat, every muscle in my body aches. Climbing the ladder is pure torture, though my shoulders have stopped bleeding. When I risk a glance under my shirt, I see five small holes on each shoulder—marks I know will scar.

  The crew crowds around the deck, pushing to see how Rhat fared. The moment his head appears at the top of the ladder, the other sailors let out a rising cry. The gold he’s carrying gets an even bigger welcome. Rhat stands with his arms above his head, basking in his hero’s welcome.

  The men all rush to congratulate him. He starts digging around in his bag, tossing out coins and small items to the men. Brus catches a golden vase. When he turns around, there’s a genuine smile on his face. I wouldn’t say it makes him look any more pleasant, but at least he doesn’t look poised to slit my throat for once.

  After everyone’s received a piece or two, Rhat holds up a hand, quieting the men. He pushes through them, making his way to me. He gives Hettie a smile as he passes her, and her cheeks go bright crimson.

  “I may be the first man to survive an encounter with the Temptresses of Triton,” he says, angling to face the sailors, “but I wouldn’t be here if Princess Kora and Lady Hettie hadn’t saved me. This gold is a gift from them.” He grabs one of my hands and one of Hettie’s and holds them in the air. “Let’s hear it for the true heroes!”

  The men let out a good holler in our honor.

  Brus doesn’t join in, but he doesn’t protest either. Instead, I find him looking at me. I’m not sure what he sees, but our eyes meet for a moment before he meanders off to compare his treasure with the rest of the crew’s. And I realize that might be as close as he gets to an apology.

  Amidst the hoopla, Rhat leans and whispers into my ear, “Thank you.”

  “Thank Captain Corelli,” I say. “Her theory was right.”

  Rhat laughs and gives my hand a squeeze before dropping it and pulling Hettie into a makeshift dance as they join the others celebrating.

  Hettie slaps a silver tiara laced with emeralds on my hair as she goes by, and motions for me to join them, but I shake my head.

 

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