Page 52 of The Gilded Ones

She seems distant, so very distant. But I know she’s here. Just as I’m here. Am I truly still asleep?

“You’re shining…” I whisper, wonder flowing over me.

“That’s good.”

“What’s happening?” I ask, my voice sounding hollow to my own ears.

White Hands walks around me. “You’ve been taught about the combat state?” she asks.

I nod slowly, everything so weightless and calming now.

“What you’ve experienced is only the surface of it. This, what you’re feeling and seeing now, is its purest form, a state of heightened senses when you’re halfway between sleep and waking, halfway between this world and the next. Look at your hands,” she instructs.

I look down, shocked to see they’re glowing just like White Hands’s body, only there are streaks on them that glow even more brightly than everything else. My veins, branching across my body, illuminating it in the night. I can see them even against the gilding.

“When you enter the deep combat state, you can see what others can’t, feel what others can’t – become faster and stronger than is normally possible for an alaki. This is the state you will use to develop your voice. Catch.”

A shadow whizzes towards me, and my hands automatically reach up, grasping the object. I gape at it. It’s a sword, a very sharp one. I caught it by the blade, but I’m not bleeding – not even the tiniest wound mars my skin. I stare at it, amazement growing. The cursed gold has pooled under the skin there, protecting it. I can see it working, moving even under my gilding.

White Hands smiles. “Wonderful. You’re already controlling your blood. When you do the same with your voice, you’ll be in a much better position, I promise. Well, then, let’s get started, shall we? We have a lot to learn. Let’s start with entering the combat state on your own.”

I wake up the next morning even earlier than I usually do.

Rattle is already standing towards the front of his cage when I arrive. His eyes glimmer in the darkness, those midnight-black pupils tracking me. It feels almost as if he knew I was coming, but then, he already has someone keeping him company. White Hands is seated on a small bench in front of him, that gnarled demon half mask on her face. I blink, startled by the sight. It’s rare to see karmokos wearing the masks when men aren’t around. But Rattle is male, I suppose, although I’ve never looked at his nethers closely enough to verify.

“Morning greetings, Karmoko,” I say with a nervous bow, but White Hands impatiently waves my greeting away.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

I inhale deeply, looking at Rattle. “I think so.”

She nods. “Submerge into the combat state.”

Just like that?

I try not to show my unease as I nod, visualizing the dark ocean in my head, just as she directed me to do last night. At first, there is nothing, only the thousand erratic thoughts barging through my head: what if I can’t do this? What if something happens and—

“Quiet your thoughts,” White Hands commands. “Find a place to focus.”

I do as she says, glancing down at my hands, at the gold that gilds them. It’s just as thick as it was the first day I dipped my hands into that vase. If I stare long enough, I can almost see my veins underneath it, feel them throbbing just under the golden sheen of the gilding. I remember the way the blood in them surged up last night, protecting my hands when I caught the sword. The blood as gold as my hands. As gold as that door…

My thoughts still, my body already beginning to feel weightless.

“That’s it,” White Hands whispers, her voice coming as if from far away. “Focus on the door,” she says.

It’s there now, just in front of me. I move towards it, swimming through the darkness. Swimming into the light. There’s so much of it now, everything glowing white before me – everything living, that is. That includes Rattle. His entire body seems to shimmer now, a white light glimmering in the darkness. Only his eyes are still black. He looks at me, a strange expression on his face. Fear? Curiosity? I can’t tell.

I walk closer to him, my footsteps seeming to float on air. Once I’m just out of reach, I look up at his eyes. “Rattle,” I say. “Kneel.”

My voice sounds layered even to my own ears.

Moments pass, nothing happens, but then a familiar, rattling sound. His quills, creaking on his back. He slowly but surely sinks to his knees, a vacant look in his eyes. The same look that was in the other deathshrieks’ eyes – the one that killed Katya and the one back in Irfut. Shock jolts as I realize: I did it, I commanded him!

“Why, Deka.” White Hands’s voice is suddenly right next to my ear. “I think you’ve issued your first intentional command.”

My grin wavers, exhaustion surging inside me. Then everything goes black.

“Deathshrieks have gathered in a cave near the outskirts of Hemaira’s southern border,” Karmoko Thandiwe announces, glancing across the room.

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