I had one chance, one person who could’ve helped me, but I fumbled that when I turned Rip down. So I need a plan. I need to figure out what I’m going to do. No more hiding from the world while I stand on Midas’s pedestal.
I grip the handle of the door in my bare hand, my magic swallowing it until it gleams. I yank hard, as if I can get the lock to come free, but of course it doesn’t.
“Let me out!” I scream again, but Midas’s guards ignore me.
My ribbons snap up like snakes rising in a pose to strike. With fury taking over, I send them lashing at the door as I continue to pound my fists against it.
Some of the strips wrap around the handle, some start slicing into the hinges, while the rest hack at the door like an axe to kindling, because I can’t give up, can’t give in.
My ribbons are tired though, overwrought. They aren’t acclimated to being used so much. But I push them, ignoring my screaming muscles and the mental effort it takes to control them.
They broke the door to my cage, and they can break down the door to this room too. Theyhaveto.
Panic makes a sob tear from my throat as I scream at the door for not budging, scream at me for not being stronger.
I hear the voices of the guards as my efforts grow louder and louder, but I stupidly didn’t put a stopper on my gold-touch. With my rage too consuming, I’ve gilded the whole damn door, and the exclamations of surprise tell me that it’s gleaming on the guards’ side too.
I slap my palm against it, fuming.
My ribbons could probably hack through wood, but not through solid gold.
“Shit,” I curse, furious at myself, at Midas for locking me in here in the first place.
“Stay inside and back away from the door, miss,” one of the guards orders.
My head snaps up. “Fuck you!” I shout back.
In a moment of clarity, I send a ribbon squeezing beneath the small slit at the bottom of the door. I crouch down to give it plenty of length, and I hear a guard shout in surprise.
I close my eyes in concentration while my ribbon reaches for the handle on the other side, searching for a flip lock. But my hopes are dashed when all I find is a keyhole too small for my ribbon to squeeze into.
Someone tries to grab hold of it, so I yank my ribbon back beneath the door and onto my side again for fear of them trying to pin it in place.
Chest heaving, I glare at the door as if it’s my nemesis.
My ribbons quiver like overworked muscles, and I yell out another curse of frustration as I whirl around and search for something, anything, to help me get the hellout.
I stalk into the cage, determined to look through it to see if my dead decoy had anything in there that might help. I have no idea what that might be, but I can’t just do nothing. I have to try.
Because I meant what I said. I won’t live like this anymore.
I start searching the cage with manic desperation, while gold continues to drop from my bare palm like a steadily bleeding vein.
Just as I’m tossing aside the mattress to see if the woman hid anything beneath it, I feel it—the change in the sky. I don’t need a window to know that night has just fallen, because my prickling skin is proof.
The sun flees, and my gold-touch magic flees with it.
“Dammit!” I shout, kicking at a tray of food at my feet. My power is gone, sapped, the last of the gold curdling against my palm as the incessant drip goes suddenly dry. I curl my hand, not wanting to watch the metallic sheen soak into my skin.
At least with my gold-touch, I’m a walking weapon. But now, I’m just an irate woman with strength-sapped ribbons and no way out.
I really, really hate the goddesses.
My legs threaten to give out, either from the weight of my fury or because of my depleting strength as my power gets stripped out of me, dormant for the night.
My ribbons manage to catch me, but they’re struggling too. I stumble forward, clutching the bars of the cage. I’m a mess of tangled hair and shaking ribbons, but my fury for Midas’s betrayal keeps me standing.
Just as I’m about to force myself to bang on the door again, something else changes in the air. Something heavier, darker, more ominous than night.
