Page 50 of The Gilded Ones

Conquer.

I lift up my sword. “Attempt me,” I say.

Gazal does so with a scream. When she lunges, however, I whirl to the side and slam the pommel of my sword into her skull. She only barely manages to grab my sleeve before she slumps down, unconscious. It’ll be at least an hour before she wakes up, judging from the size of the knot in her head.

White Hands walks over, clapping. “Splendid, splendid! Such quick thinking, Deka.” I slump, my entire body shaking now. “Simply masterful. I knew I made the right choice.”

“Choice?” This question comes from Belcalis. She’s spent the entire battle in quiet contemplation, as is her habit. “Why her? Why us, of all the girls in the Warthu Bera, Karmoko?” she asks.

White Hands shrugs. “You have rage – deep wells of it,” she replies. Then she points at a still-unconscious Gazal. “That one has pain – an entire lake’s worth, as you just saw.” It’s Britta’s turn now, and White Hands’s finger points towards her. “That one is strong, loyal, and will do what must be done.” As Britta blinks in surprise, White Hands turns to me. “And that one,” she says. “That one is unnatural.”

There it is again, that hated word. Unnatural. But I don’t feel the shame and nausea I used to. Now I know my ability has value, my main reaction is curiosity. White Hands knows where my ability came from. I’d already guessed this back in Irfut, but now I know it for a fact. That’s why she’s using that word to describe me. It’s not a condemnation but a truth.

“What do you mean, unnatural?” I ask. “What exactly am I? Am I even alaki?” This last question rushes out of me – a fear I’ve kept so deeply hidden, I’ve never even acknowledged it until now.

An amused smile curls White Hands’s lips. “Are you even alaki?” She laughs. “What a silly question to ask, Deka. Of course you are. You’re the most valuable alaki in all of the Warthu Bera.” I frown at her, confused by this declaration, and she takes a step closer, peers down at me. “Of all the girls here, only you have the ability to command deathshrieks.”

Even though I already knew this, the confirmation still comes as a shock. As do other realizations. If White Hands knows about my ability, then she was probably aware of what I was as far back as Irfut, might have been searching for me then. Which means she knew about me – knew what I was. Does this mean there are other girls like me? I’d dismissed the possibility, but now, I’m not so sure. All I know is that White Hands has the answers I seek.

“Are you the benefactor?” I blurt out.

All day I’ve been thinking about it, the mysterious benefactor Karmoko Thandiwe said helped Mother escape. I thought it was one of the karmokos at the Warthu Bera during that time, or perhaps even a jatu or an official, but what if it was White Hands? She’s a noble – she has money, power, the ability to transport people wherever she likes.

“Are you the one who helped my mother escape the Warthu Bera?”

White Hands just blinks. “Your mother was in the Warthu Bera? Fascinating…”

She says it in that noncommittal way of hers, so I can’t tell whether she’s lying or not. All I know is that she knows more than she’s telling. “What do you know about me? About what I am?” I plead.

She shrugs. “I know that using your power exhausts you. That you become vulnerable after using it. I know that you are valuable to us. To this fight.”

Blood drums in my ears. Valuable to us? The way she says those words, looks so meaningfully at me – I know exactly what she’s thinking. She intends to use my ability during the campaign. She intends to expose it for everyone to see. My muscles clench into knots, my breath comes in spurts. A primal wail begins building somewhere deep inside me, but White Hands clicks her claws, forcing my mind back to the present.

“I know you have questions, Deka,” she says, “and I will answer them all before the campaign is over. But for now, know that I won’t put you in harm’s way.”

Just like that, the wail dissipates, and I can breathe again. If there’s one thing I know about White Hands, it’s that she’s a woman of her word, even though her intentions are always murky.

She turns to Britta. “You once asked me why you were chosen. It’s for this – to protect Deka during her vulnerable periods, to keep her from being hurt during that time.”

She points at Britta’s war hammer. “With that war hammer, Britta, you will be Deka’s protector.”

Britta looks down at the hammer, her brows knitted in a frown. “That’s why you took me,” she says slowly. “That’s why you brought us together…”

White Hands does not bother to deny it. “As the strongest representatives of the Warthu Bera, you four will be sent on the most difficult raids. The ones where the deathshrieks are more numerous or cunning, where the terrain is more unforgiving – the ones where Deka’s voice is required.”

She glances across our faces, her eyes finally resting on Britta. “Not only are you strong, Britta, you truly care for Deka, which is why she needs you. A protector to keep her safe. A friend to keep her sane in the horror of the coming months. Are you up to the task?”

I turn to Britta, my questions about White Hands pushed aside by an even more important emotion: fear. What if she’s frightened of me? What if she hates me for putting her in such a dangerous situation? It’s an irrational thought, I know, but the mere spectre of it is so painful, I can barely breathe.

But then Britta hefts the hammer and smiles. “Deka and I are bloodsisters. We belong together.”

White Hands smiles. “I am glad to hear it.” Now she turns to Belcalis. “And you, Belcalis of Hualpa, what are your thoughts?”

Belcalis snorts. “I don’t know what all this nonsense about Deka’s value is, but I just want to survive my term so I can leave this place. If Deka can help us defeat the deathshrieks faster, I’ll protect her as well,” she says, walking over to Britta and me.

Relief shudders through me, so sudden it almost makes my knees buckle. Belcalis doesn’t hate me either. She’s still my friend.

White Hands smiles. “I thought you might. After all, you, more than anyone else, understand the pain that Deka endured. It is the same that you endured. You, more than anyone else, understands what needs to be done.”

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