CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:

THE HAND OF MIDAS

Marinette felt like an actual ladybug – so minuscule and insignificant compared to the head of the giant griffin she and her sister now stood upon.

The marble beneath her feet trembled from the onslaught of water spouting from the griffin's mouth. And that was only one of them. The other five others were the same, filling the chamber unnervingly fast.

Marinette knew that if she and Bridgette didn't get the Hand of Midas and escape before the turtle fully submerged... well, let's just say she didn't want to be trapped on the bottom of the ocean a second time.

Her thoughts immediately flew to Adrien. Come and find me, she had told him. She was starting to regret those words, knowing how many times her prince had run head-smack into danger to protect her. Marinette could only pray that Adrien would be smart and escape off the isle with the others.

Bridgette came up beside her little sister. The blue in her eyes caught the light of the floating, golden hand spinning slowly ahead of them, and she smiled with immense joy.

Marinette saw it too.

Standing upright in the palm of the giant hand was a small statue of grey stone. It portrayed the form of a bearded man with a simple crown and long robes; more of a scholar than a king, in Marinette's perspective. In one hand, the king held an ornate sceptre. In his other hand was a small torch.

But it wasn't a torch at all, Marinette realized.

It had a handle, yes, but instead of flames, it produced a hand; one made entirely of pure, shimmering gold with coppery, iridescent streaks running along its surface. Its palm was facing out, its fingers pressed together as they reached for the sky.

It was just like the symbol on the dagger. On Bridgette's medallion. On the tapestry of King Midas.

The Hand of Midas.

Marinette couldn't help but feel sheepish and proud at the same time. I guess the joke's on me, she thought.

She looked at her sister, and her heart nearly sank at the sight of those silvery-blue eyes tearing up.

Bridgette tried to take a deep breath, and it hitched midway like she was trying to stifle a sob. Seventeen years, and the Queen of Thieves had finally completed her ancestors' quest; her life-long dream.

Marinette laid a comforting hand on Bridgette's shoulder. "You were right," she said. "For a change."

Bridgette chuckled and wiped her eyes. "Pity I didn't find this place years ago" she noted with a hint of regret.

Marinette shrugged. "Well, we're here now... though we won't be for very much longer." She glanced down at the rising water below with an anxious frown.

Bridgette pulled herself together and nodded. "Right." She walked up to the edge of the griffin's beak.

The giant hand was about ten feet away; not small enough for a person to leap across.

Unless that person had a handy yo-yo with them.

Marinette grinned.

"Hmm..." Bridgette contemplated and backed up a bit. "I'm not as young as I used to be," she said aloud, "but I'm sure I can –"

Marinette just pulled her arm back, and then flung her yo-yo at the floating hand without warning.

The thing latched perfectly onto the large thumb.

Marinette briefly saw her sister snapping around as she yanked hard on the string... and went flying like a rock fired from a slingshot.

"Marinette!" Bridgette cried.

The young blunette soared over the breach, waving her arms and bringing her legs forward. She barely heard the rushing water over her own heartbeat.

Then, she landed right in the open palm of the giant hand...

... only to go sliding towards the other side!

"DAH!" Marinette shrieked, dragging her gloved hands along the golden surface to slow her down.

It worked, but that didn't stop her legs and torso from going over the edge.

Marinette held on with all her might, trying desperately to bring her dangling feet back up. The water seemed to groan underneath her, waiting for its newest victim to plunge into its hard depths.

Marinette chuckled uneasily, remembering what Alya used to tell her about getting her landing right after a long jump. Next time, I'll just swing across, she thought.

Gritting her teeth, Marinette summoned all the upper-body strength she had, and heaved herself over.

When she was lying safe and sound in the hand's cupped palm, she slowed her breathing to control the raging thudding in her chest. Marinette recalled her yo-yo back to her. Then, she grabbed onto the stone statue and used it to ease herself back up to her feet.

Looking over, Marinette saw a pale-faced Bridgette slamming a hand against her chest as she exhaled.

The younger sister grinned and waved over. "See? It pays to have a junior partner!" she called.

The Queen of Thieves huffed an irritated sigh, but she was definitely smiling.

Marinette turned back to the statue. The man was undoubtedly kingly, like the man from the tapestry Bridgette had shown Marinette back at Mount Sesame.

But it was the Hand he held that really got her attention.

Marinette lifted her fingers towards it... then paused. She recalled the sunken ship back at the mountain; a grand vessel frozen forever in its golden glory. Marinette suddenly wished she had a pair of tongs.

"Be careful!" Bridgette called, her voice thick with concern. "Don't touch the golden hand! Grab it by the hilt!"

"I know, I know – give me a minute!" Marinette shot back before analyzing the problem.

The whole hand was made of gold, but the handle and the hilt it sat on looked like some kind of metal that turned blue in the sunlight. Considering its close proximity to the Hand, Marinette wondered why the handle hadn't turned to gold yet. The metal must be immune to the curse, she concluded, though she wondered what kind of metal could withstand such powerful magic.

But now was not the time to get a brain-ache.

Marinette wriggled her fingers and licked her lips. Please let this work.

She reached for the round hilt that held the Hand of Midas in the statue's fist… and grabbed it with the balls of her fingers.

Nothing happened.

Offside, Bridgette was frozen with apprehension.

But Marinette had needle-steady fingers. Without so much as a twitch, she lifted the Hand of Midas oh-so-carefully out of its hold.

The handle scrapped along the stone as it slid out. Only when it was completely out did Marinette grasp it firmly.

Bridgette sighed again from her perch on the stone griffin, and a big smile rose on her face.

Marinette held up the Hand of Midas. It was so reflective; she could see everything in the chamber upon its surface. The girl staring back at Marinette appeared more beautiful than ever, with radiant skin and eyes that changed from green to blue at the right angle.

Then, Marinette caught Bridgette's form in the Hand. She smiled and unfurled her yo-yo again.

This time, she tied the ball-end to the handle of the artefact. She dangled the thing beside her before turning to her sister.

"Heads up!" she called.

She didn't wait for Bridgette to reply before throwing her yo-yo – and the Hand of Midas with it – over the chasm.

The Queen of Thieves shifted herself in her spot like a panther waiting to pounce as the treasure came soaring towards her. Her eyes sharpened, her fingers flexed...

Then, she stepped out of the way.

The Hand went flying past her, and Bridgette swiped the bare string out of the air like a natural thief.

"Got it!" Bridgette cheered, raising the Hand hanging off her end of the string.

She then grasped the metal handle and proceeded to untie the string.

Once it fell away, Marinette grinned and yanked her yo-yo back.

Her older sister looked so young all of a sudden, her eyes mirroring the golden gleam before her. Then, Bridgette let out a squeal of delight; an actual, childish squeal.

It made Marinette laugh.

"The Hand of Midas!" Bridgette declared, holding the artefact in front of her. Then, her face slipped back into that mischievous, scheming expression. "Let's see if the myths tell true."

With that, the Queen of Thieves knelt to the ground and pressed the tip of the Hand against the stone griffin's head.

There was a loud KHITZ sound, and strings of electric-yellow energy erupted from the Hand.

Then… a puddle of shimmering gold appeared upon the stone.

Marinette inhaled with awe.

The puddle spread wider and wider, forming a broad wave. It slid underneath Bridgette, but she remained affected by the spell. She spun around as she watched the gold melt along every inch of the griffin statue.

But it didn't stop there.

The surrounding walls also turned to gold, filling in every dip and curve of the godly mural upon it. The other stone griffins followed one by one, their protective stances becoming more magnificent then before. The magic moved like paint being poured onto a canvas, leaving nothing but sparkling beauty in its wake.

Even the water looked like it had turned to gold! The newfound colour and lighting in the chamber shifted the pouring waterfalls from blue and white to caramel and copper.

It was the most beautiful thing Marinette had ever seen.

Bridgette rose up with a prideful grin that clearly said, I told you so.

For once, Marinette was glad to be wrong about her sister.

A loud groan made the sisters pause.

They turned to see streams of water burst through a few of the open slits in the upper wall.

Marinette's stomach dropped, and she glanced back over the ledge of the giant hand.

The water had now reached the griffin's beaks, which meant all the tunnels below were now completely submerged.

Thinking quickly, Marinette glanced up towards the skylight in the high ceiling. It was still open, and no water rushed through it. But for how long would it stay that way?

Both sisters weren't going to wait and find out.

"Time to go, Marinette!" Bridgette called worryingly.

The young blunette nodded and spun her yo-yo...

... until something small and hard collided with her back and sent her falling forward.

Marinette cried out as she slammed against the golden hand, her shoulder blades hurting something fierce. Her yo-yo flopped over the edge, but the young blunette still had it by its string.

Snapping her head around, Marinette gaped at the familiar face looming over her:

A grinning, silver skull.

"No one is going anywhere," Hawkmoth said with a smug purr in his voice, and he lifted the tip of his sword to Marinette's chin.

Adrien climbed as fast as his cat-like reflexes would allow him.

He stopped only to call Marinette's name, but no reply ever reached him. Either she was somewhere inside the citadel, or the rushing water drowned out the prince's voice.

It only made him move faster, leaping from tower to tower with the help of his staff. Below him, the sea gushed and churned and sprouted through the marble maze, sucking in everything as it rose higher.

Not far ahead, Adrien spotted a cylindrical, white dome with beautiful pillars on top. It was the largest building on the isle, and it seemed to be sinking the slowest.

Something in Adrien's gut pointed him in the direction of the dome. He figured it was worth a shot. At this rate, anything was worth a shot.

A torrent of water burst from the level below him.

Adrien vaulted over the breach on his staff, swerving through the air as he made his way across.

He never once took his glowing, green eyes off the dome.

Hang in there, Milady – I'm coming to find you.

Bridgette's blood pounded with a ruthlessness she had never felt before. It scared her, but she didn't care.

Her focus right now was on the frozen, heartless eyes of the man who now stood on the floating, golden hand with her sister... and the sword that remained pointed at her neck.

Marinette's yo-yo recoiled back into its hold as she slowly rose up.

"Don't even think about it," Hawkmoth hissed. "No toy or Code or fleeting stroke of luck can protect you this time, Ladybug," He took a tiny step forward, forcing his opponent back. "This time, it is you the sea will claim!"

Marinette hissed at him through her teeth as she stepped back. The heels of her feet brushed along the edge of the platform.

"Get away from her, Hawkmoth!" Bridgette shouted, her voice deadly-sharp. "Your battle is with me!"

As the giant hand spun, Hawkmoth's silver face came into view, and he grinned over at his former apprentice.

"Your compassion truly has made you weak, Bridgette!" he declared. "You know there's only one way to save your sister now! Give me the Hand of Midas... or she dies!"

The Queen of Thieves clenched the hilt of the Hand of Midas so strongly, the metal burned solely from her body heat.

"Don't listen to him, sis!" Marinette called over her shoulder, her body tensing as she sized up Hawkmoth. "I can take him alone!"

Bridgette's face fell.

Was Marinette being serious, or was she simply urging her sister to leave her and escape with the Hand while she still could? She knows Hawkmoth is lying! Bridgette thought morbidly. She knows he'll kill her no matter what I do!

What have I done? What can I do?!

Suddenly, she heard Marinette's voice in her head, back from when she had chosen to stay for the ones she loved:

The right thing!

She heard her own voice: You will never go near my sister again. Not as long as I draw breath.

Then she heard Marinette again, back in the cove: You're so desperate to prove yourself worthy that you forget what really matters to you.

Bridgette lifted the Hand of Midas to her eye-level.

The woman staring back at her now was so different from the woman she had been before; the woman Hawkmoth had tried to turn her into.

Bridgette had risked Marinette's life to rid herself of Hawkmoth once before. She would not do so again.

Her silvery-blue eyes became as hard and unyielding as the sea. "You're not alone," she murmured, looking up at Marinette. "Not anymore."

Hawkmoth grinned darkly and drew his sword back. At the same time, Marinette sank into a crouch.

Until...

"All right, Hawkmoth – you win!"

The shadows on the swordsman's face softened with surprise.

Marinette snapped around to stare incredulously at her sister.

But the Queen of Thieves had made herself crystal clear. "You want the Hand of Midas?!" she bellowed, drawing her arm back. "Take it!"

She flung the Hand forward, and it went spinning up into a graceful arc.

Hawkmoth eyes widened.

Marinette tried to issue a late warning, but the swordsman shoved her aside as he ran past her and reached for the Hand.

Golden light blinked as the artefact descended.

Marinette scrambled to her knees.

Bridgette held her breath.

And Hawkmoth caught the Hand, his gloved fingers latching around the golden part.

Marinette gasped.

Bridgette never so much as flinched.

Hawkmoth's face literally lit up with joy, the iridescent streaks grazing along his silver mask.

He raised the Hand above him and let out a low, maniacal cackle that broke through air, gold, and water.

"The Hand of Midas is mine!" Hawkmoth shouted triumphantly.

He could already see the endless amount of fortune he had longed been denied; the glory this newfound power would bring him! All in the palm of his hand!

With a final laugh, Hawkmoth turned to look at Bridgette behind him as he orbited around. His eyes and baring grin darkened once more.

"Now I just have one more treasure to obtain," he stated, lifting his sword again. "My ultimate revenge... and it shall begin with the life of your sister!"

Bridgette just folded her arms at him, her expression almost as cold and daunting as her former master's.

Then, her narrow eyes lowered.

Hawkmoth scrunched his eyebrows at the Queen's reaction of indifference. No jabs? No threat? No begging? No quivering with fear?

Something wasn't right.

When he turned back to Marinette, her reaction was more of the wide-eyed horror he was hoping for.

But she wasn't staring at him. She too was looking downward.

It only made Hawkmoth more irritated. "What are you staring at?!" he demanded sharply.

Marinette didn't reply.

But there was a soft, golden glow illuminating her ghostly-pale face.

Only then did Hawkmoth realize that his hand – the one in which he was holding the Hand of Midas – had gone cold.

With a jolt of confusion, the King of Thieves looked down... and gasped.

His fingers were shiny and metallic, and a smear of sparkling gold was spreading over the rest of his hand like a glove. When Hawkmoth moved his arm, the gold moved with it.

"What...?" he breathed as a wave of roiling terror rose up in his gut. "No! What is this?!"

He dropped the Hand of Midas like a red-hot poker, and it clattered at his feet.

But that didn't stop the magic. The gold came up to his elbow. Then his chest.

"Stop!" Hawkmoth cried, trying to smother it with his other hand. But the magic only spread to that hand now. He couldn't put it out! "STOP! NO! NOOOOO!"

Marinette only stared at him in terror as she crawled away from him as far as she could.

On the other side of the chasm, Bridgette was staring at Hawkmoth. There was a hard gleam in her eyes. Was it vengeance? Pity? Hatred? All three?

He never found out.

The gold covered his eyes... and the King of Thieves let out a final scream into the golden darkness.

Marinette flinched and looked away from the shrieking, golden man before her, whose arms were now raised to the sky as though reaching to the heavens for salvation.

Then, it stopped, and Hawkmoth's last bellow faded away.

When Marinette dared to look again, the swordsman was a frozen statue, twisted in fear and anger. His silver mask was now a casing of shimmering gold.

Then, the statue wobbled and tipped over.

Marinette raced to the edge just in time to see Hawkmoth plunge into the water with a loud SPLASH!

She watched wordlessly as his dark, stiff form sank lower into the amber depths, and then he was gone.

MB: Okay, let's be honest – we all know that Hawkmoth isn't dumb enough to grab the Hand of Midas by the golden part. But in this case, we'll make an exception.