Page 3 of Ashes of Gold
The destruction out here in the wilderness ends abruptly at a barrier as transparent as glass, which forms a dome over us and the mountain. Bri, in her haste to get me here quickly, said he’d broken through the barrier. Thankfully she was wrong. But he’s about to. And it’s the only thing keeping them from us.
It glistens, hanging above us. Thin cracks spiderweb on its surface and my heart ticks faster, my fingers twitching. The Chancellor scans the area and I hide myself behind a smooth-barked tree that’s as wide as I am. Thousands of Patrol surround him. There’s so many of them. So few of us. I swallow and gaze at the trees at my back, but my people are well cloaked, tucked into nooks of branches and wide leaves, in pockets of shadow, waiting, watching. The lines written into their faces are more determination than fear.
The Chancellor’s nostrils flare and he shouts. Because of the barrier, I can’t hear it. But his men raise their arms in unison. I clench, my muscles tightening in angst as I watch them aim magic at the barrier. The cracks on its glossy surface spread. Their arms lower. He yells and they fire again. It’s been going on like this for days. But each “aim and fire” twists the corkscrew in my chest. That dome breaks, then what? I clench my fist.
I fight.
Outnumbered and all. I picture Moms’s face. There’s no other way. The General’s demise must have reached the Chancellor’s ears while I was in East Row. He is always poised, pensive, stoic. Three days ago, when they started this siege, they were collected, organized. But now, his reddened complexion, his corded throat, say the orders he’s shouting are rooted in exhaustion and frustration, not control. Which I intend to exploit.
I wish I could have seen his face when he learned that hundreds of my people still exist. That some actually got away when he showed up to unify the tribes under him. And that they’ve been hiding inside Yiyo for generations, their magic fractured, a wisp of what it used to be. But even still, resiliently hopeful, strong, and ready.
A twig snaps behind me and I turn to find Jhamal pressing in beside me. He’s no more than a breath away, a wall at my back. The siege glows orange in his ebony eyes.
“They won’t break through,” he says.
They will.I’m sure of it. But I swallow the words. I don’t want his hope to falter. Hope is its own kind of magic. But Jhamal studies my eyes and finds the truth. The lines deepen on his face and I squeeze his hand in reassurance.
He gestures for everyone to come together and hundreds in shining gold armor emerge from the shadows. They surround us, eyes flicking between the two of us.
“It appears the barrier will break today,” Jhamal says, broadening his shoulders, forlorn shadowing his expression.
“It will,” I say. “But we can exploit the Chancellor at his most vulnerable point.”
“The island is our home,” says a Ghizoni clad in armor with bear-claw insignia perched on his shoulders. “We know these paths better than anyone. We should take cover in the thickest leaves and let them come to us. Ambush them.” He tightens his grip on his curved blade.
“So we line up here,” a girl with a braided topknot says, digging the tip of her shield into the ground, drawing a picture of the plan.
I glance for another view of the Chancellor. The barrier’s thinning with every attack, magic sizzling its dulled surface. Rage is burned onto the Chancellor’s skin.I’m the true threat. The opposition to his power.What if…
“I’m the carrot. Dangle me.”
Their expressions twist in confusion.
I stand. “Listen, we don’t have time to strategize. For three days we’ve been hunkered down in this forest with no clear consensus of a plan, watching his movements, studying him. I’ve got to get out there. Before it’s too late.”
“We’ve learned a lot about his movements these past two days,” the Ghizoni says.
Crack.I suck in a breath, glancing at the barrier. The spiderweb of cracks I’d just seen has doubled in size. “I’m not trying to minimize that and I’m sorry if it came out that way. I’m just saying, the Chancellor wantsme.”I hold out my golden arms. “These. And they outnumber us greatly. I’ma fight him one-on-one. That’s our chance. Our only chance.”
Heads turn in silent conversation with one another.
“Jelani,” Jhamal starts. “Don’t do this. What is the full plan? Lay it out.”
All eyes on me.
I step back. “To get out there. To fight.” They’re wasting time. I leave the huddle and creep closer to the task at hand.
My Ghizoni people are like collateral damage to the Chancellor. He’s razing the land where our Ancestors grew their food, the chakusas where my father’s father raised his family and buried our dead, where aunties and their daughters picked kaeli berries for their turning out ceremonies. Anger moves through me in a rush of heat. I don’t want to sit and talk about a plan for another minute. That barrier is going to fall. And I need to be in position to end him.
“And what would you have us do while you’re out there?” someone shouts at my back. I don’t know. I just know they can’t die for this. They’ve suffered enough at the hand of the Chancellor. The Ancestors gave me this magic. My parents died so I’d have it. So I could do this. So I could fight.
Crack.
I summon heat to my fingertips, keeping to the edge of the tree line so I can see him, but he can’t see me. A flicker of hope thuds in my chest mangled with fear.I can do this. I have to do this.
My people call for me, but I jet off. The Chancellor’s narrowed eyes search for me at the edge of the trees. Patrol snaps to attention. Magic flies through the air, slamming into the glass dome overhead. It shutters.
I can’t stop them from shattering the barrier, but I can be ready when they do. The second before the barriers opens up wide enough for him to step through, I’m going to reveal my position and fire at him before he can fire at me. I’m counting on catching him off guard. I blow out a breath. It’s gon’ work.
