Thread of Gold

Ch. 14: bittersweet as orange peels

Penny awoke in a golden meadow.

Tall wheat tickled her thighs. Gilded trees wept drops of yellow dew. A palatial temple stood proudly at the center of it all, a monolith of golden pillars, sweeping steps and a fire burning. The Meadow of the Golden Dwelling, Penny realized; it was where Lucia, the Goddess of Light, slumbered. It was also the only interesting story her tutor Briar had ever told her.

"Penelope."

Penny spun and then swore as she lost her balance. Her hand flew to her throat. A beautiful woman stood by the temple. White-blonde hair tumbled down her back, so bright that it was almost painful to look at, and a crown of flames wreathed her head. She moved, and the grass rippled. Parting for her.

Penny's mouth went dry. "Who are you?"

"You know the answer to that."

Penny swallowed. "Lucia."

It was impossible and yet, who else could she be? The goddess smiled, and the surrounding air rippled like water. "Well met, little princess."

"Why have you summoned me?"

"Have I?" Lucia tilted her head, and the motion was oddly feline. "Does my golden blood not run through your veins right now?"

Penny blinked. The dream somnium, the tavern, Grayson — she had nearly forgotten. Everything felt faraway. Fuzzy.

She thought about the stories she heard of mortals that travelled to the Meadow of the Golden Dwelling. Briar had told her a legend of a traveller that heard beautiful pipe music and lay down among the wheat to listen; by the time the music stopped, the traveller was so starved and sleep-deprived that he died in the grasses, dreaming of that music.

A shiver spider-walked down her spine. The rose-scent was cloying, and the soft grass felt like manacles against her ankles. She had to get out of here. Now.

"I want to go back," Penny said.

Lucia's expression was impassive. "Most mortals would consider it a great honour to meet a goddess."

"Please." Penny licked her lips. "Send me back."

"Already?" Lucia asked. "But you haven't yet heard what I'm going to say."

Penny didn't care. The serpentine trees around the meadow shivered, shedding pale leaves like a snake shedding skin. "I know better than to bargain with the gods. You have nothing to tempt me with; I have everything that I want."

"Really?"

Penny was silent.

Lucia's mouth curved. "What about your brother's life?"

Penny's heart stopped. Ryne's illness. Could she — could the goddess cure it? The earth gave a groan, shuddering under her feet. Several birds shot into the air, tittering, and Lucia's figure shimmered.

"Wait!" Penny lurched forward. "Stop!"

Lucia flickered. "Find me again, little princess."

A fissure shot up a tall pillar, cleaving the temple in two. Penny cried out, shooting forward, but it was too late: the meadow dissolved, crumbling into golden dust.

Isaac yanked off his boots.

He started on his weapons next, stripping them off one-by-one. Knives. War Fans. Sword. His hands shook with exhaustion, and he tossed them into his wardrobe. Screw it. He would deal with it tomorrow.

For now, he just wanted to sleep.

Not that he would sleep, Isaac thought, yanking his shirt off. He'd be too busy worrying about Ryne. They had spent the last two hours jogging around the castle, and then Ryne feverishly painted a wall in a spare bedroom. The painting hadn't been half bad, actually. Sort of a goat-meets-melting-sky creation.