The Rising Gold Read online

  “May Kala see through your eyes, vessel of the Almighty One.” Arodin runs his fingers down my left eye too. There’s a pause, then his fingers touch my left cheek and—oh no—run over my lips to my other cheek.

  “May Kala speak through your mouth, vessel of the Blessed One.”

  I keep my lips as closed as I can without grimacing. The wet streaks on my face buzz more intensely. I don’t remember Deimos saying anything about this. This is—I’m not sure I like this.

  Another pause, then Arodin’s hands press against my chest and back, over my heart. Both hands are drenched in the stuff and it drips down my chest and back in thick, humming lines.

  “May Kala fill you with their essence and guide you through every challenge, every high, every low.”

  Arodin lets go of my chest—a pause—then his thumbs press against my cheekbones, under my eyes, as his fingers wrap around my head. “Open your eyes,” he whispers.

  When I do, Arodin smiles and nods. “May you guide us all, Eros, Sira da Safara.”

  Then he steps back and bows.

  And so does the rest of the room.

  And just like that, it’s over.

  I’m Sira.

  And I won Deimos’s bet, after all.

  2

  Kora

  “Truly, your face looks ready to split in two, you’re smiling so wide.” Uljen smirks at me, but he’s smiling, too.

  “I’m so relieved,” I answer. “And Kala, sha, happy too. Eros deserves this. He’s going to be a great Sira, I’m sure of it.”

  Uljen nods and faces the courtyard fountain, circulating gold-tinted water into the dark basin. There are fewer people standing back here—most are congregated nearer the entrance to the courtyard, waiting for Eros to arrive. His hands are clasped behind his back and he holds himself like a soldier: shoulders back, head high even as he looks into the water below. His confidence is magnetic—I wish I had a fraction of it.

  I step next to him and look at my reflection, jolting a little at the pink, scarred skin of my arm mirrored back at me. Though I’ve recently stopped covering my scarred arm, seeing it still sends a hot spike through me—a breath where I want nothing more to hide it again, to forget my bloody, terrifying coronation.

  But I take a deep breath of the hot, dry air and bury those feelings deep. I have nothing to hide.

  “You don’t seem so convinced,” I say to Uljen. “About Eros.”

  Uljen shrugs. “Ken Sira is a stranger to me. You know him better than I do, so if you think he’ll do well in his new position, then I trust you.”

  “Hmm.” I crouch in front of the fountain and dip my fingers into the warm water. “I sense there’s more you want to say.”

  “You’re rather perceptive this set.”

  I glance up at him with a smirk.

  “I don’t like it,” he says. But then he laughs a little and runs a hand over his neatly tied back hair. “You’re right. I just worry how someone without any political experience whatsoever will handle being the most powerful ruler on the planet … but it’s not right of me to question that considering my lack of experience for my own position.”

  “It is a little hypocritical, sha.” I stand. “But it’s a fair enough question. If Eros were trying to rule alone, I’d worry, but he’s not. He’ll certainly establish Avra-kaï Deimos d’A’Sharo as his official advisor if he hasn’t already, and I’m sure Deimos will create a strong, experienced Council to help guide him. Eros may not have the experience yet, but he’ll be surrounded by people who do.”

  Uljen nods. “That’s good to hear.”

  “This is a good thing,” I say. “You’ll see.”

  “I sincerely hope you’re right.” Uljen pauses and glances across the courtyard, full of royals and upper-class citizens alike, speaking quietly over cups of azuka. “You said Eros knows he’s meeting you here?”

  I hesitate. “Well, Deimos knows, so I assume Eros knows. But even if he didn’t know, this is where he’d be headed after receiving the mark of Sirae, anyway.”

  “Short a few royals, I see.”

  I grimace. I’d noticed that too—the Avra da Sekka’l and Invino weren’t at the coronation, which is incredibly disrespectful and not exactly a promising sign. I’d mostly expected that behavior from Sekka’l—or even Ona, given that’s where Lejv is from—but Invino’s absence is worrisome. Invino holds the religious capital of Safara—and much of the rest of the religious bodies around the world follow their example. But oddly Arodin was there to officiate the coronation, so it seems the Temple itself supports Eros even while our most religious territory doesn’t, which …

  Well. I’m not sure what to make of it, to be true, but it can’t possibly be a good thing.

  “I did notice that, sha.”

  “Do you think Eros cares?”

  “Probably not. But Deimos and his Council members certainly will. They understand the potential implication and impact that Eros doesn’t right now.” I purse my lips. “But that’s a discussion for another set. Today we should focus on celebrating. Eros has earned it.”

  “Speaking of which.” Uljen nods as Eros, Deimos, and Mal enter the courtyard, all dressed in Ona’s finest. Even Deimos, who always wore A’Sharo’s colors before, wears black and gold.

  When they enter, Mal sticks close to Eros, likely using him to navigate through the crowd with his limited vision. Deimos’s hand is on the small of Eros’s back just for a moment before he drops it and they lean toward each other. Deimos says something and Eros nods as he rubs his left hand where—oh.

  Interesting.

  Arodin chose to put Eros’s mark of Sirae on his hand. It follows the light, sharp lines and curves of his faint Kala’s mark, from his wrist to the first knuckles of each of his fingers. The mark of Sirae is often placed somewhere readily visible—like an arm, chest, or neck—but this is impossible to miss no matter what Eros is wearing, which I suppose was probably the point.

  There’s no disputing Eros is Sira. Not anymore.

  From across the courtyard, Eros looks at me as people approach him. He nods politely at the bows and greetings as I move forward through the crowd. A pale stick of a man rams into my shoulder. I stumble half a step back and scowl at him. He bows, mumbles an apology, and melts back into the crowd.

  I don’t have time to be irritated over the interaction, however, because when I look up Eros is standing in front of me.

  The bruises from the fight—and the attack the night before the fight—are still visible on his chest, but faint on his face. It’s been only a couple sets since the match, though, so I suspect the faintness on his face has more to do with coverup than healing. Still, even with the visible bruises, even with the uncertainty in the way he drifts through the crowd, Eros looks right here.

  He may not feel it yet, but I’ve never been more sure that this is exactly where he was supposed to be. Respected, and in a position of power in Sepharon court.

  I bow to my Sira, and to my friend.

  “Kora, you don’t have to—” Eros starts, but I straighten and shake my head.

  “I do. I’m your friend, Eros, but I’m also an Avra and if I don’t show you the respect you deserve as one of your greatest supporters, then no one else will either.”

  Eros opens his mouth—to protest, probably—but Deimos nudges him. “She’s right. Get used to it, Sira.” His eyes twinkle with that last word as he flashes a bright grin.

  Eros’s face reddens slightly, but he smiles and runs a hand through his hair. “This all just feels … surreal.”

  “I’m sure. You’ll become accustomed to it, but regardless, it’s good to see you, Eros. And you as well, Mal and Deimos.” Deimos nods and Mal waves. I smile, then remember Uljen standing awkwardly at my side. “Oh, excuse me, how rude—Eros, this is my advisor, Uljen. Uljen, Sira Eros.”

  Uljen bows for a second time. “It’s an honor to meet you, el Sira.”

  “It’s good to meet you, too. I heard about your appo
intment.” Eros’s gaze drifts to me. “I think it’s a good thing what you’re doing, Kora. I’m proud of you.”

  I smile. “Thank you.”

  “Will you be staying in Asheron long?” Deimos asks.

  “Unfortunately not; Uljen and I have a lot to take care of in Elja. But we’ll see you at Daven and Zek’s wedding, right? That’s just seven sets away.”

  Eros blinks and glances at Deimos, but Deimos smiles warmly. “We’ll definitely be there. I can’t wait.”

  Eros smiles. “I didn’t realize the wedding was so close.”

  “Sha, well I suppose you’ve had a lot of other things to worry about as of late.”

  Eros nods and Deimos turns to him and lightly touches his arm. “It’ll be a good way to solidify Daïvi’s support. Plus I’m sure you’ll want the mental break in seven sets.”

  “Will there be good food?” Mal asks. “I wanna come if there’s gonna be something decent. Like kelo, that stuff is really good.”

  Eros smirks. “I’m sure there will be, and you can come if you want.”

  “Cool.”

  “We should probably talk to other people, too.” Deimos glances around the courtyard. “We have a lot of people to greet and my brother is giving me that look—but don’t worry, you’ll like Nikos. He’s much more reasonable than Sulten, thanks to Kala.”

  “Great,” Eros mumbles, looking distinctly unpleased. “More people to talk to.”

  I snicker. “Or’jiva to the life of a royal.”

  The stick-thin man who bumped into me earlier steps behind Eros, glancing at him with distaste. I arch an eyebrow at him. A flash of silver—

  “Eros!” I gasp.

  Eros spins and catches the man’s wrist just as he strikes with a knife. For a breath the world is suspended, Eros and the man shaking with strain as Eros grips his wrist, keeping the knife suspended mid-strike.

  Then Eros slams the heel of his free hand into the man’s nose just as Deimos wraps his arm around the man’s throat and yanks him back, holding him tightly. Guards are on the three of them in a blink as someone—Uljen—steps in front of me.

  “Are you all right?” he asks urgently.

  “What? I wasn’t the one attacked! Is Eros—”

  “We’re fine.” Eros steps beside Uljen with Deimos, not even winded. The attacker somewhere behind them is screaming something about half-bloods as guards wrestle him away. More guards try to usher both Eros and Deimos out but Eros waves them off. “Excitement’s over,” he says loudly to the staring crowd as the man’s screams fade. “Back to … whatever we’re doing.”

  “Whatever we’re doing,” Deimos repeats with a smirk. “Shae, very regal of you.”

  Eros laughs, breaking the tension. “Quiet.”

  “You don’t actually want that.”

  “Naï, I don’t.” Eros shakes his head and smiles at me. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “Of course, I’m just …” My heart still beats uncertainly in my chest. “Relieved you’re both unharmed.”

  Eros smirks. “They’ll have a try a lot harder than that to get rid of me.”

  And I wish it weren’t the case, but I can’t bring myself to smile.

  When we arrive in Elja, the suns have set and the four moons paint the scarlet sands with silvery light. I take a moment to let the night warmth paint my closed eyes and fill my chest.

  Uljen waits quietly at my side until I open my eyes and turn to him. “Ready?” He gestures to the palace entrance.

  “Naï,” I answer honestly. “But that hardly matters.”

  He smiles thinly and follows me inside. An orb guide races up to me the moment my feet hit the tile. I try not to look displeased—not that the guide would know the difference—as it whirls in the air in front of me. “Message from Torven Emani d’Elja for Avra Kora Mikale Nel d’Elja,” it chirps.

  I pull the ties out of my hair and let it hang over my shoulders as I comb my fingers through it. Uljen stares at me and I raise both eyebrows at him. He clears his throat and averts his gaze, his face just barely purpled.

  Hm.

  “Go on,” I say to the guide as I move down the hall.

  The guide keeps a pace ahead of me as it projects Council member Torven’s face in the air. “Kora.” Torven smiles. “I hope your travels went smoothly and your time in Asheron has gone well. The Council need to speak with you before you complete the set—we have a couple important matters to discuss that can’t wait until the morning. Do let us know when you’ve returned so we can set up a quick discussion. Oh, and bring Uljen. He is your advisor, after all. We’ll see you shortly.”

  The projection disappears. I sigh and nod at the guide. “Let the Council members know I’ve arrived and will meet them in the library shortly.”

  The guide spins in the air then shoots off down the hall. I glance at Uljen. “Congratulations. You’re officially invited to Council functions.”

  “Thrilling.” He smirks.

  “Oh please, we both know you’re thrilled. It means the Council has officially accepted you, and you know it.”

  Uljen’s smirk stretches into a smile. “Guilty.”

  “Mhm.” I shake my head and turn toward the library. “Well, at least I won’t have to suffer alone.”

  Uljen laughs. “That bad?”

  “In all likelihood—sha.”

  “Well, in that case I’m honored to suffer at your side, Kora.”

  “You should be. It’s quite an honor.”

  “It is,” Uljen says seriously. He hesitates, then his fingers brush my scarred shoulder, sending a jolt directly to my heart. I stifle a gasp as I stop walking and face him. “I apologize,” he says quickly, pulling his hand away. “I didn’t mean to startle you—I just, I want to say something before we face the Council.”

  I gently press my hand over the buzzing spot on my skin where he touched me.

  No one is supposed to touch me without asking.

  Does he know that? Doesn’t he know that?

  I’m not sure if it bothers me because he didn’t ask or if it bothers me because the last person aside from servants to touch me was Eros, too many sets ago, before I became Avra again. When our touches were kisses and our kisses were good-byes.

  But still, I didn’t—dislike it. My skin is still humming and a part of me almost wants him to do it again. But of course, that’s not permitted. At least, not out in the open like this.

  “You’re not supposed to touch me without asking,” I say. “Now that I’m Avra. I’m not angry, but I want you to be aware. If the guards had seen they may have … reacted badly.”

  Uljen blinks. “Oh, of course, I apologize. I knew that, I-I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Apology accepted. You were saying?”

  Uljen pushes some long strands of hair out of his eyes. “Right. I wanted you to know though I wasn’t initially sure working with you would actually be fruitful, I appreciate the way you’ve taken my perspective into account, and I truly believe you were meant for this role. I’m honored to be at your side.”

  I have to admit, the honesty is unexpected. There’s so much falsity in politics—from overblown flattery to half-truths concealed behind smiles. Lying is dishonorable and most avoid it to an extent, but that doesn’t mean honesty. It just means everyone knows how to twist words until they barely resemble their original meaning anymore.

  As they say, the most dangerous lies are buried in truth.

  “Thank you,” I say. “I … that’s not what I was expecting.”

  Uljen laughs slightly. “Naï? What were you expecting?”

  I lift my unscarred shoulder. “Truly, I couldn’t say.”

  “Do you know what to expect with this meeting?”

  I grimace and ignore the twisting of my stomach. “Nothing pleasant. It never is.”

  Uljen and I are the first to enter the library’s meeting room, but it doesn’t take long for Roek, Torven, Izra, and Barra—my four Council members—to enter. They immediately
kneel on the cushions across the table from Uljen and me.

  “It’s good to see you, Kora,” Torven says kindly. “And you must be Uljen. Kala smiles on our meeting, eran.”

  Uljen nods. “Thank you. I’m honored to be here.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Roek says flatly. I imagine it must take him quite a bit of self-control to resist the eyeroll undoubtedly itching behind his bored gaze.

  Uljen purses his lips. I ignore Roek’s obvious attempt to belittle us and Barra’s smirk. Barra reminds me of Jarek—too much muscle than any one person should have, even in his graying age, but with half of Jarek’s reasonable nature. Which is saying something.

  “At any rate.” I turn to Torven. “You summoned us, and I presume it wasn’t just to meet Uljen.”

  “It wasn’t.” Torven nods. “We’re sure you’re aware the people are awaiting news on Dima’s trial, and we wanted to emphasize the importance of beginning his trial as soon as possible.”

  My heart sinks to my toes.

  Dima’s trial.

  I hadn’t forgotten, of course—how could I even begin to forget that my brother will finally atone for his crimes? How could I forget for even a breath that the atonement may cost him his life?

  I’d never before wished I was the Avra d’Invino, where execution as punishment was outlawed ten cycles ago. But right now, with the prospect of watching my brother kneel before an executioner’s blade an all-too-real possibility—oh, how I wish it.

  “I’m aware,” I say. My voice comes out tight. I take a steadying breath and press my palms against the floating table. “I know it’s important, and Dima must face his crimes. I swore before I’d get it done, and I won’t break that oath.”

  Even as the words slip from my lips, they hook into my heart and pull and rip. The truth is, I’m not sure how to feel about Dima’s trial, not really. There isn’t any question in my mind that he should be punished in some way—for trying to kill me, for nearly killing Serek, for giving Roma the excuse to slaughter redbloods, for executing citizens who dared protest him and imprisoning those who dared protest the execution. Dima’s crimes are a pit digging into Safara’s core—they’re a mountain threatening to topple over and bury us both beneath it. And it should feel good knowing my brother will atone for what he’s done but—