He stepped in front of her retreating frame. “Then why do I find you are the only lady I actually wish to dance?”
She raised a brow at him. “That is a very good question considering our last ball.”
All signs of a smile fled his face. “Look, I never thought you beneath me, nor even that you were trying to pursue me.”
“Then why did you refuse to dance?”
He fidgeted with his glove. “It is complicated.”
“Do you possess some fear of dirt?” she asked, glancing at the gloves. “I assure you, I clean often.”
He threw his hands behind his back. “I fear nothing more from you, Lady Hazel, than that you will never forgive me. Truly, I endure great remorse that I caused you pain.”
“You didn’t cause me pain… only insulted me.”
“And I am sorry for that, too. Please, let’s have this dance, else I shall sit out every one on account of you and every lady here will despise you.”
The corner of her mouth turned up. “Are you such a commodity, then?”
He shrugged. “I am king.”
She chewed at her lower lip, considering. “I will dance with you,” she said at last, “if you will remove your gloves.”
Though his every feature remained composed, the sudden white of his face betrayed him.
“I… cannot,” he said.
Absently, she worked at the golden mark on her hand. What was the matter with this man that he would practically beg for her forgiveness, then reject her the next chance he got?
He snatched her hand into his.
Her eyes flashed. “What are you—”
“This…” He pointed to the golden blemish. “How long have you had it?”
She worked to regain her appendage but found it held fast. “I cannot just say. But I assure you, it is no proof of my uncleanliness. It simply will not remove.”
“Would you say it appeared the evening of the coronation?”
“Why, yes… I discovered it the following day.”
Keeping possession of her hand, he whispered, “Come with me,” then proceeded to pull her through the room and to the nearest exit. It was all she could do to take up her skirts to keep from tripping.
Once in the hall, she wrenched her hand away. “Where are you taking me?”
“The armory.” He continued onward.
She blinked after him, weighing her options. In the end, her curiosity won out and she raced after him. “Why are we going there?” she asked, breathlessly trying to keep up with his pace.
He opened a large door and sauntered across the room of armor until he came upon an ornate suit, the one he’d worn to defend the coronation. Standing before it, he turned to her and crossed his arms. He was breathing hard, as if angry.
“What is it?” she pressed.
“You see what makes this suit special?”
She nodded. “It is gold, for the ‘golden king,’ I suppose.”
“Ask me how it was made,” he gasped out.
“Er, I suppose a very fine armor maker...”
He shook his head.
She crossed her own arms. “Then how?”
“I did it... by accident.”
“Oh, well… it is fine work.”
With a huff, he shook his head and searched the room until he finally tore a small piece of fabric from his own tunic. He then ripped off a glove with his teeth and took hold of the cloth with his bare hand. “Come see,” he said.
Slowly, she stepped forward, squinting her eyes—not trusting them. What she witnessed was impossible. The fabric was transforming into gold, stemming from where his fingers held it. When the job was done, he took hold of her hand with his gloved one and dropped the piece into her palm. She thumbed it around and at last raised a brow at him before biting into it. Sure enough, it was solid.
“That’s what would happen to you if I touched you long enough without my gloves.”
She shook her head incredulously, eyes wide. “That’s… extraordinary.”
He laughed bitterly. “You wouldn’t think it so amazing if that gold speck on your hand had spread any further.”
She re-examined it. Her actual skin had turned to gold. She wondered how deep it went and whether it would always remain or if it would eventually… chip away? “I see…” she said, looking up at him and, for the first time, feeling she understood him. “You cannot control it?”
He shook his head. “Caught a butterfly as a child. It dropped to the ground, lifeless and hard as precious metal.”
“So, you’ve not touched anyone with your hands since?”
“Tried not to, a brush here and there, but it doesn’t seem to take effect that quickly.”
“But when I took your hand at the coronation ball, that wasn’t all that long...”
“It activates more quickly when I’m nervous.”
“You were nervous you’d turn me to gold?”
He eyed her. “…Yes.”
“You say you’ve had this gift since you were a boy? Were you born with it?”
He nodded. “So my mother said.”
“What she must have thought! And how difficult bringing up a child you couldn’t touch much longer than a moment.”
He grinned a little at that. “Well, she could touch any part of me but my hands. That’s where the power stems from. I didn’t even know I had it until I tried to catch the butterfly.”
“You weren’t aware of it any sooner than that?”
“Well, she always had me in the gold-lined gloves. Unusually, my power is stunted by gold itself.”
She thumbed at her golden speck. “Have you ever… turned anyone to—”
“Certainly not. We were always very careful.”
“You and your mother?”
He nodded.
“But isn’t turning things to gold rather handy?”
“Not when people find out.”
She nodded. “Suddenly, you’re their personal treasure trove.”
He appeared surprised by her understanding. “Yes… ruined my relationship with my father. As a boy, my mother kept it secret. When I discovered it, she made me promise not to tell anyone... But he was my father.”
“His greed grew?”
“As you said, I was his little fortune-maker. After a while, it was all he could see when he looked at me.”
“But your mother?”
“Loveliest woman I’ve ever known. Made her a golden rose once. She tossed it out and made me pick her one with a gloved hand. It hurt her to have my father see me as he did. She wanted no part in it.”
“So, is this why you’re called the golden king?”
He shook his head. “The people don’t know. No one does now my parents have passed. I hate that nickname, by the way. Came because of my armor. Thoughtlessly put it on with my bare hands once and was forced to wear it out to battle. As the battle was so victorious, I was deemed ‘the golden king.’”
“So, you have never told anyone aside from your parents?”
He nodded.
“Then…why have you told me?”
He kicked about a pebble underfoot. “Hated the idea of insulting you again… not to mention it completely spooked me what I did to your hand. I am most dreadfully sorry about that.”
“Well… it’s no harm, Fredrick. Sort of special, actually.”
He offered a sad smile. “It’s nice of you to see it that way.”
“Rather than the fact you could have turned me into a glistening statue, to be remembered forever as Lady Fortune and no more?” She smirked up at him.
He bit his lip, then relented to a chuckle. “Yes… that would have been rather sorrowful.”
“Honestly, Fredrick,” she began, taking a step toward him. “It’s actually really quite splendid what you can do. Not for the riches, just… for the sake of such an impossible ability. Where do you suppose it came from?”
“The deepest flames of the Nethers, I suspect. It has done me no favors. I cannot
even act in my full capacity as king because of it.”
“How can that be?”
“Have you ever heard of the Cave of Nielsas, from where the lively rubies come?”
“Not the cavern, but I used to have my own store of such rubies.”
“Truly? I don’t suppose you bonded with them?”
“I did. They saved my life during the dragon attack actually.”
He eyed her awhile. “The cavern was formed by our first king, who was said to possess the power to produce those rubies.”
“That sounds familiar.”
He nodded. “But he’s the only king, let alone person, in the whole of the kingdom who performed anything like it. At any rate, it is where the heart of our kingdom lies.”
“The heart of Bashtii?”
“Indeed. The cavern possesses ruby hand-pieces that every ruler is meant to form a bond with by touching them with the naked palm and speaking to the god within. He then provides protection and favor for the land. But every time I try to touch it…” He stopped abruptly, considering her. “Why don’t I show you?”
“You mean now?”
“Well, no. I suppose tomorrow will do.”
“Very well. I would like to see this cavern. It sounds a bit like our mirror room.”
“So I’ve heard. I think you would like it there and… perhaps you can help me.”
“How could I?”
“You bonded with your rubies. Scarcely anyone is able to procure kinship with them anymore.”
“Really? That’s sort of—”
“Special,” he finished with a smirk. “At any rate, you may be able to help me form a connection with them.”
She raised her brows. “I suppose so.”
“Well, I… suppose we should get back.” He offered her his arm as he asked, “May we have our dance now?”
“Oh, very well, but it had better be an awfully good one after all this.”
* * *
Fredrick lit the sconces, sending the walls of pure ruby ablaze and shimmering. Goosebumps soared down Hazel’s arms as she moved from the dark tunnel into the cavern. She watched as the dazzling light shining off the gems sent crimson rainbows over herself and Fredrick. But more significant was the viscosity of the atmosphere, so full of something she could not grasp it made her emotional.
“I had no idea…” she murmured, her voice echoing throughout.
“Is it similar to The Mirror?”
She nearly laughed but stifled a sob instead. “Not quite.”
“Over here. These crevices are where I am to lay my hands.”
“And why is it a problem? Do you fear turning it all to gold?”
He shook his head, then removed his gloves and rolled up his sleeves. He reached for the crevices, then paused. “I… would stand over there if I were you.” He pointed to the far wall.
“All right.”
He looked to her with more soberness than she’d ever seen him wear. “What you are about to see cannot go beyond these walls.”
She nodded in anticipation.
At last, he adjusted his feet and slowly moved his palms toward the placements, his hands shaking with nerves Hazel could not yet grasp. The moment his flesh touched gemstone, he was hurled backward, his head smacking against the wall.
“Fredrick!” she squealed, racing to his side. She knelt over him and patted his cheeks as if it held some hope of waking him. Brushing back the hair from his forehead, she lifted his head to feel for blood but found it miraculously dry, possessing just a small bump she hoped would not grow larger.
“Fredrick…” she whispered. Was this what he had meant to show her? Why would he put himself through such an ordeal? He must be desperate for help, but how could she possibly aid him in this issue?
Angrily, she stood and turned to the crevices.
“This is a good man!” she shouted. “He cannot help his golden touch!”
The gleam in the gems rippled, but she shook her head. It had to be a trick of the light.
She turned to check on Fredrick but was caught by the sound of singing, similar to that of her ruby bedposts. She took another step toward the crevices and the sound grew louder. Another step and its beauty enraptured her, visibly swirling around her. When she blinked, the sight disappeared.
It startled her to discover she had taken the last few steps to the wall. The music drenched her in itself. It was a call, a summons. The rubies desired her touch. It made her heart race with excitement and then fear as she watched her arms reach out. Forcibly, she tore them back and the music ceased.
Breathing hard, she peered over her shoulder at Fredrick. He still did not awaken. She should be concerned for him but turned back to the wall instead. Her eyes were watering. Her heart was aching. She moved her hands near the placements again, not touching them… but longing to. Everything in her missed that wondrous music and wished to answer its plea.
Releasing her breath, she shook her head and stomped her foot. She could not touch the wall. It was meant for the rulers of Bashtii. They must bond with the rubies, not some unloved girl from a kingdom across the sea. It was in no way her place and may produce dire consequences.
“Oh!” she gasped upon suddenly finding herself in a habitation that possessed such beauty as she had never imagined possible. It was only then she realized what she’d done.
Physically, she staggered under the atmosphere. Goosebumps flooded her body as she shook. Sweat dripped down her face and neck, soaking through her garments. What had she done? She ought to find her way back to the cave somehow, but her eyes wouldn’t budge from the figure at the center of the room.
He appeared as a man, sat upon a sapphire throne atop a floor of clear glass. Beyond the enthroned figure were curtains of emerald-rainbow luminescence and from him burst blazing bolts that set the room to quaking as they struck. His eyes, hair and clothes were ablaze with a glorious substance that sent Hazel’s face to the floor, her body laid out helplessly. She was both thrilled to have found this place and shrieking to be away from it. This realm was not meant for her. She was not supposed to have touched the rubies. She was not worthy of facing such an… entity.
Utterly overcome with the surge of understanding that struck her, tears burned down her cheeks and onto the crystal floor. This… was the Great Entity. So grand, majestic and glorious did he sit. She had to escape him, to escape all he was in his wholeness before her. But she lay plastered to the floor.
A touch upon her shoulder drew her attention. She possessed just enough strength to turn over and view the humanoid creature with three sets of wings who offered her a burning coal. “Eat.”
She scanned the creature’s eyes and found astounding purity in them. Surely, those eyes could mean her only good. She took the coal, eyed it, then swallowed it whole. The act felt strangely familiar. But more importantly, she felt relieved. The glory of the Entity at the center of the room had not lessened, but she felt strangely able to stand upon her feet again, to further assess her surroundings and to wonder at it all.
Surrounding the throne were beastly creatures she could never have dreamed up. Some were flaming and possessed many wings, others possessed the faces of animals or were covered in eyes all over their flesh. Still others were sat upon smaller thrones that encircled the enthroned one. Unexpectedly, they stepped forward as one, stole the crowns from their heads and cast them at the feet of the Great Entity, proceeding to fall prostrate before him.
“You are worthy, our God,” they cried, “to receive glory and honor and power. For you created all things, and by your will, they were created and have their being.”
It so moved her that, if she had possessed a crown of her own, she would gladly have followed suit. She was gripped by the longing to offer something to he who sat in a kind of magnificence that no earthly king might ever possess. It was clear the Entity was a king, yes, but he was a king of quite another sort.
At long last, he locked eyes with her. She felt she would melt t
hrough the floor. Then, he looked to the creature who had offered her the coal.
“He summons you, Hazel of the Many Kingdoms,” the creature said.
Hazel of the Many Kingdoms? She could not fathom what this meant but it mattered not as her feet at first tiptoed with hesitation and then raced to the feet of the God at the center of the room. Pressing her way beyond the creatures of this ethereal world, she was at last before him.
“Hello again, sweet Hazel,” spoke the encompassing voice she’d heard in both the prison and her bedroom some evenings past.
“H-h-hello…” she croaked.
“Do you know who I am?”
She nodded. “The Great Entity of The Mirror.”
“I am the inventor of invention, the creator of creation. I am the God of all worlds and all things, for nothing exists apart from me.”
She crumbled to her knees. “I am so sorry for having referred to you in such minute capacity, Wondrous Entity,” she wailed.
A hand raised her chin until she was drawn to her feet. She was stunned to discover it was his. “And you… are one of my prized creations.”
“Me?” she gasped, tears cascading down her face.
“You, Hazel, possess a rare quality. Under pressure, you transform coal into diamonds. Your scars become your strength.”
She shook her head, working to grasp that the Entity of all things saw such attributes in her. “I should not have touched the ruby wall,” she said guiltily. Her unworthiness burned at the center of her person at the same time that his words overwhelmed her with acceptance.
“I asked you to,” he said.
Her mouth dropped open. That certainly explained why the call had been so undeniable. Who could resist him? “Whatever for?”
“Because I chose you.”
“You chose me to bond with the rubies in the cavern?”
He chuckled, a sound that was like tolling bells. “Do you recall when we met in what you call The Mirror?”
She was about to shake her head until one of the many-winged creatures touched her. The memory of the encounter dawned in her mind. She looked to the Entity with new eyes. He was so different from the one she’d met then, the one who’d called himself H.S. At the same time, it was clear they were comparable.
Singer's Sword Page 18