I vow to buy my mother a new home as soon as possible.
Willa pulls Lilly into a comforting hug, as she knows just how nervous Lilly truly is, and I step away to give them a moment alone. I walk to the window of the tech shop and place my palm against the chilled control interface. The tinted glass ripples, peeling away the dark panes to reveal a reflective surface.
I scoop my long black locks into a tight bun, away from my eyes, the same forest green that matches my mother’s. Then subtly, I check that my face is clear, running my fingers from temple to jaw. Streaks of mercury rarely show on my face. But sometimes, if I get upset, they do appear as faint, barely noticeable outlines. And other times—like on that night—the night my father held my mother’s arm over the stove burner, they surface like angry, fire-hot coils of wire threading my skin.
On that night, my mother’s eyes grew wide, and not just due to the pain of her searing flesh. She shook her head, trying to stop me from drawing my father’s attention. He dropped her to the floor as his beady eyes raked over me furiously. Then he shook me, blasting my face with curses and his foul, alcohol-saturated breath.
I looked at my mother curled into a broken, defeated heap, and the mercury in my blood heated, shooting through my veins like quicksilver. Without thought, I clutched my father’s head and pressed my palms to his temples, the tips of my fingers digging into his scalp. My vision blurred, and his features shook erratically in fast, jerky motions. Then he crumpled to the floor.
He thrashed as his mind was lost to madness. I backed away from the scene and stumbled to the bathroom where the mirror revealed silver—glowing silver—swirling slowly around the corners of my eyes, just above my cheekbones.
I close my eyes now, clearing my head of the memory, and force calm, collected thoughts to center me. It’s never happened before that night. And it has never happened since. I breathe in and out. In and out.
Every bit of my wits will be needed to keep my composure this morning. Today, the Nactue Guard retires—the women Lilly, Willa, and I have looked up to ever since we were enlisted. And I’m about to be promoted in place of one of them. I’m about to become a member of Empress Iana’s Nactue Guard—her personal guard—a highly coveted faction.
I’ve kept my mercury-tainted blood a secret for fifteen years, with the exception of those closest to me. Now at nineteen, I plan to advance with the rest of the protectors today—normal, unblemished. I won’t be pitied. I’ve earned my spot among them as an equal.
And I plan to keep it.
Alyah, give me strength.
Turning toward my friends, I say, “All right, girls. To the palace.”
Their faces wash over with the same apprehension I’m feeling. Lilly holds Willa’s hand as we leave the tech shop. Then we weave our way through the marketplace in compatible silence to discover our placements.
A tiny service-bot rolls down the sandy walkway, its wires dangling, trailing through the dirt. Anti-gravity Cury-crafts—powered by steam and a mercury-based plasma—hover past us, their engines whistling a high-pitched whir. In the city limits, most crafts only seat two or three, and are brightly colored with a sleek, industrialized bamboo body. But the empress’s army has l
arger, nearly-indestructible crafts, designed to transport at least twenty protectors.
The soaring glass buildings grow thicker as we head deeper into downtown. They loom over the dirt-packed roadways, and screens along their middle panels display last night’s broadcast. Councilor Herna, Empress Iana’s trusted advisor, talks above the crowd, her words strengthening my gait with pride. The protector advancement ceremony is an important part of her message, but not what has everyone rushing past us in the streets to get to the palace.
“. . . It’s come to our attention that Otherworlders have attacked Perinya,” Councilor Herna says. “And as suit, we’ll promote the new Nactue Guard in place and sanction the Cavan Army to our boarders. If our neighboring allies need assistance, we will lend it. But no word other than of the minor attack has been reported at this time.”
I scowl, squinting past the sunlight as I watch her features harden on the bright display. Until now, the Otherworlders haven’t been seen in over a hundred years. They were rumored to be extinct. It’s what every protector is taught during training. Lilly and I thought the stories we heard growing up about the mutated bottom-dwellers were myths, something they told children to keep them from roaming too far from their home. But now every country on the Nalbis Peninsula is in an uproar since their unexpected attack.
I wonder if the empress will issue another call for protectors during her address. After the war eleven years ago between Cavan and Taggar—an outskirt territory to our north—the recruiting age dropped from fourteen to twelve. My father enlisted me in protector training as soon as I become of age, as parents received a salary from the Cavan Council. I spent my birthday doing pushups to build upper body strength instead of playing dolls. The money was his only reason, but enlisting me was the best thing my father ever did for me.
My hand grips the hilt of my sword as Lilly and Willa lead us past another shop and onto the dust-covered walkway. The thick crowd presses in, and we shove our way through. Shouts and the clang of machinery fill the air, and a cleaning-bot sputters along the ground. As we near the end of the market, a shiny gear catches my eye. I pause, then walk toward the merchant’s stand.
The gear spins, its deep cogs rotating as a smaller gear pushes it around. The gears protrude from a baby doll’s chest, and my hand inadvertently goes to my own as one of the doll’s blue eyes winks at me.
“It’s missing the cover flap,” the merchant says, grabbing up the doll. “But I have outfits to hide the mechanics.” He rummages underneath his table and yanks out a tiny yellow dress. “It’d make a fine gift for a little one.”
Lilly places her hand on my shoulder. “No,” I say, snapping out of my daze. “Thank you.” I grip her hand for a moment before moving away from her touch. Spinning on the heel of my boot, I start again toward the palace with the doll’s open chest, exposing all of her wiring, sitting on the front of my mind.
I’m not the only one in Cavan, or in the Three Realms, or probably the world for that matter, to have cybernetic instruments beneath her skin. Even as I remind myself of this, a man with a prosthetic arm passes by, his robotic fingers gripping a mug of coffee.
If it were just my cybernetic parts, it wouldn’t be so bad . . . but there is something wrong with me. Again, my mother’s words of being blessed by the goddess Alyah echo through my mind. Only, how can doing what I did to my father be a blessing?
A Curry-craft whirs by, and dust kicks up around me. I slap my uniform of the dirt and groan. It’s the poorer class, like me, who can’t afford to cover their cybernetic parts with skin grafts. I think of the doll’s missing chest cover. My new salary in the Nactue Guard will be enough for my mother’s medication and to pay Emily to make sure she’s taken care of, and I’ll still have a little left over each month to save up for grafting.
Not that that’s the only reason why I trained for this position. I could’ve dropped out of training after my father was placed into the psychiatric ward. My mother even suggested it. But seven years of training—learning discipline and how to protect myself—has taught me one thing: you have to face down your fears. And I’m damn good at what I do. When I have a sword in my hand and something to attack, my whole being is centered on my purpose.
There’s no room for doubt.
Or regret.
The Nactue Guard sacrifices their personal life completely. They’re dedicated to our empress and our queendom, and that requires a pledge—a vow of servitude. I don’t mind. I could never see myself married and having children. The possibility of bringing a child into this world to endure someone like my father only seals my decision. Men are the furthest thing from my thoughts, and being a Nactue will make keeping them off my mind easy.