Page 62 of Gold Sector

Pay attention,I tell myself.

“We lived in the volcano for centuries,” he’s saying. “The Infection changed that, the disease wiping out almost all the island inhabitants.”

He’s silent for a moment, like he’s quietly mourning the dead.

I idly wonder if he knew any of the humans taken down by the zombielike plague.

But he clears his throat and moves on before I can ask.

He tells me about the destruction, the stench of death lingering in the streets. Then he talks about the rebuildingprocess, how the Drakonians moved out of the volcano and onto the surface to claim the island as their own.

“And now…” He waves a hand toward the black sand and backdrop of steep cliffs. “This is our home.”

Oros continues down the beach, his dark cloak flowing behind him as his golden armor glints in the sun.

I’m similarly dressed color-wise in a long dress that flows to the pebble-like sand beneath my flats.

Everyone eyes me with interest as we pass them, their gazes instantly drawn to my gold adornments—the cuff around my wrist and the necklace he gave me yesterday. Oros doesn’t comment on it, just nods hello and flexes his palm against my lower back to keep us moving forward.

He explains the architecture as we walk, telling me how everything is built on the cliffs and hills of the island. “It’s steep,” he tells me. “But it makes for some beautiful views.”

A lot of the foundations were originally created by the humans who once lived here, but the Drakonians expanded on their platforms and bolstered everything with various rocks.

Gold—both yellow and white—is a prominent fixture all around us as we leave the beach for a nearby cobblestone street.

“This is no ordinary gold,” he informs me, gesturing to the row of homes before us. “The gold here is enchanted with unique charms that offer protection and prosperity. Which is particularly important on this section of the island.”

I’m about to ask why when a woman steps out a few paces ahead, her brown eyes widening at seeing us on the street. My nose twitches, her scent… unexpected. “She’s human,” I whisper.

“Everyone in this area of the island is,” he murmurs as he nods at the brunette. “They’re descendants of themortals who survived over a hundred years ago. There weren’t many, but enough to create a small human colony.”

He goes on to say how they sometimes save humans on raids and bring them back here.

“It’s not common,” he says. “But it has happened before.”

Then he starts explaining the raids, how they’re actually rescue missions involving Omegas.

“We often trade precious metals for Omegas, which is how we’ve earned our reputation as being in the slave trade. But once the Omegas arrive, they learn the truth.”

Oros proceeds to show me that truth as he ashes us to a central street lined with stores and restaurants.

My eyes widen at the sight, the scene before me like something out of a fantasy.

“Obsidian Sector has nothing like this,” I whisper.Neither do the nomad lands. But that much is probably obvious to him, so I don’t mention that last part out loud.

“Want to get a bite to eat?” he asks me. “Maybe a sandwich for a late lunch?”

We’ve been walking for a long time, making a meal sound like a good idea.

So I nod.

And he takes me to a little café with outdoor seating.

His earlier commentary regarding the island views becomes clearer as I stare down the hill toward the ocean framing the island barrier.

It really is beautiful here, with all the white architecture, blue roofs, and cobblestone streets.

When I say as much out loud, Oros returns to his architecture discussion, saying how it’s a tribute to the humans who once lived here. “We maintained a similar appeal, just bolstered it with our enchantments.”