City of Gold

by Daniel Blackaby

  He strained to hear. He could make out quiet voices but couldn’t determine whom they were or what they were saying. Suddenly the cart began to rumble and he heard a cranking noise. They’re lowering me into the furnace!

  Cody thrashed with all his strength. “Help! Help! Help!”

  He began to sweat as he was lowered deeper and deeper into the blazing heat.

  PART FOUR

  ILLUSIONS

  AND REALITY

  71

  Phase Three

  HE WATCHED THE NUMBERS CLIMB like the steady ticking of a bomb: 23…24…25…. He removed his hat and ran his boney fingers through his thick, sweat-dampened hair.

  He anxiously shifted his weight back and forth between his right and left legs. He was not one overly acquainted with the sensation of nervousness. Such sentiments belonged to weaker men. Yet, as the numbers continued to rise, the jitters seized control of him—35…36…37….

  It must be a significant development, he thought, dropping his gaze to his freshly polished dress shoes. In all his years, the number of times he had been summoned for a face-to-face meeting could be counted using just his fingers. He was never eager to add to that tally.

  As the digits hit 66 it was announced with a ding. The elevator doors slid open and he took a final deep breath before he marched out into the room. He hoped to reveal more confidence than he felt.

  The back of the chair faced him, a haze of smoke rising up from the other side. He removed his hat in respect. “My master, you summoned me…?”

  Another puff of smoke preceded the reply, “Indeed, my faithful Dunstan, in hopes that your lips carry good tidings.” The man’s voice had not an ounce of warmth. Dunstan felt his hands twitch. Phone communication was frightening, but in person, the voice, naked and untainted, was downright haunting.

  “I have personally assured that the boy’s journey was successful. The Book Keepers have been united at last. I obediently await further orders, my master.”

  “And, our man on the inside?” the master asked.

  “He remains under our control. We remain in possession of the leverage. I assure you he will play his part when the time comes.”

  The master’s hand appeared from behind the chair. The skin was like rough leather and a prominent scar ran from the top of the hand to his elbow. He dropped the cigarette butt and grasped a shiny object leaning against the desk.

  There was gleam as he lifted a magnificent sword. “The time for CROSS to rise from the ashes has come at last. Begin Phase Three.”

  Dunstan felt a chill run down his spine. “Sir, Phase Three? Now?” He bit his tongue before another reckless sound could exit.

  “You question me?”

  Dunstan felt his heart racing out of control. “Of course not, master! There is no other like you. I live only to do thy bidding, my master.” Dunstan rubbed the wrinkles on his forehead. “It’s just…after all this time; all this preparation….”

  The master brought the sword down, its blade piercing the floor. “Patience is the greatest virtue of the greatest predators; but the time has come. Go, faithful Dunstan, and do what you must do. Today the spark we ignite will become a raging inferno.”

  72

  Resistance

  AM I ALIVE?

  The consuming darkness around him was suddenly dispelled by light streaming in from above. Two hands broke through the glare and grasped his collar, hoisting him into the air. Cody gasped for air as the world blurred back into focus around him. The air was damp and heavy.

  Cody looked down to the empty silver crate and then to the hooded man who had pulled him out. “Where am I? I thought I was lowered into the furnace.”

  The hooded man nodded, “And so you were.” Without any further explanation the man urged him forward. They were in a darkened tunnel; the rocky ceiling of a cave only ten feet above their heads. “Where are we?” Cody asked again, but his escort offered no reply.

  As they turned around the bend the tunnel opened up into a wider compartment. Cody gasped in surprise—there were hundreds of people.

  They wore tattered clothing and their skin was shaded gray with grime and filth. Their emaciated bodies appeared as mere walking bones draped with a thin blanket of skin. Scattered about the caverns, small huts and shelters had been weakly constructed with tattered tarps and stacked rocks.

  The shanty hovels and deprived people became scarcer as Cody was led to the outskirts of the parish. They came to a small nook in the side of the rocks. Cody stopped to examine the solid rock mount in front of him, running his fingers across it. It was a dead-end.

  He sensed the hooded man blocking his only path out. Cody gulped. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “It’s possible,” he stepped forward, backing Cody tighter against the wall, “but as you must now realize, nothing in this city is ever how it appears.” The man removed his hood.

  “Xerx…?”

  The young monk grinned. Before he could say anything, Cody leapt and threw his arms around him.

  Xerx forced his way out of the embrace. “Easy buddy! Don’t get all touchy-feely on me.” Cody stared at him, astonished. “They told me you were dead! Dace and the others, I thought…I mean…. I don’t understand….”

  Xerx grabbed Cody’s shoulder. “Slow down, there will be plenty of time to explain everything.” He glanced left and right before leaning closer. “After your reckless rescue attempt and capture, we knew we could never infiltrate El Dorado undetected. After you gained access all of the city’s defenses were immediately tripled. We needed a way into the city. The idea was all Randilin’s.”

  “Randilin!? But he betrayed you. He sold you out to the Golden King!” Cody exclaimed.

  Xerx laughed. “One of the advantages of being a legendary scoundrel, liar, and traitor is that nobody questions you when you act despicably. Randilin not only enabled Dace, Tat, and Chazic to be safely escorted into the heart of El Dorado, he also earned the Golden King’s favor and wormed his way into the King’s inner council. Brilliant when you think about it.”

  Cody felt a sense of relief, relaxing against the rocks. Randilin, you continue to surprise me! “What about you? Where are we?”

  Xerx scanned the area again carefully. “I was originally planning on being caught along with the others, but something presented itself that changed our plans,” he motioned with his hand. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Suddenly Cody lost his balance as the cliffside shook. He jumped back as the rocks began falling toward him. He paused. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The rocks weren’t falling—they were walking. A man stepped forward, his entire body camouflaged to blend perfectly into the rock.

  “Allow me to introduce the legendary Gorgo Tallsin, inventor of Rock Clothing…and leader of The Resistance.”

  73

  Illusions Dispelled

  THE MAN WAS AS AGED as the ancient rocks that camouflaged him. His face was coated gray with dust that had sunk into each of the hard wrinkles. His armor, from his rounded helmet to his chest plate, was stone-like in appearance and all but his face seemed to morph into a large boulder every time he stopped moving.

  “We have been waiting for you a long, long time.” Despite the shakiness of his voice, it was rich and authoritative; the kind that makes a body instinctively offer a soldier’s salute and stiffen to better posture. “I trust you received my message?”

  A light bulb lit in Cody mind. He fingered the paper in his pocket. “G.T.—Gorgo Tallsin. It was you!”

  Voices sounded from behind. Xerx quickly threw up his hood and without warning planted a solid blow against Cody’s cheek. “If I have to tell you one more time then you know what’s waiting for you: the factory!”

  Cody’s wind had been knocked out; he could no longer speak. Writhing on the ground he saw that Tallsin had once again disappeared and blended into the cliffs.

  Behind Xerx four golden golems marched into sight. They paused briefly to acknowledge Xerx,
and then marched on. When they had gone Xerx lent Cody a hand. “Sorry about that. I got carried away.” Cody noticed a lack of remorse in Xerx’s voice.

  “As you can see,” Tallsin said, once again visible, “circumstance prevented me from contacting you more directly. The Resistance endures only in secrecy.”

  “The Resistance?” Cody asked in surprise.

  Tallsin gave a single, ill-humored laugh. “El Dorado—the perfect utopia; where everyone has everything they could ever need or imagine—except for freedom. On the surface they seem joyful and peaceful...but nothing could be further from the truth. The entire city, every part of it, is a giant illusion conjured by the Golden King. The citizens live every day in fear; a nightmare they have been forced to endure so long, it’s become their only reality.”

  “Why doesn’t anyone say anything?”

  The ancient tailor chuckled humorlessly. “Oh, in the early days some did. But after those unfortunate souls suffered fates that I dare not repeat, people became resigned to their fate. The Golden King leaves nothing to chance. He is obsessive and haunted by paranoia. At all times he keeps tabs on his people. The streets are monitored every minute by the Dark-Wielders.”

  “I was told the Wielders went around using the High Language to help people, to give them what they needed.”

  Tallsin shook his head. “An insidious lie! The Wielders patrol the streets without mercy, popping into homes unannounced, keeping an ever-watching eye on the city. Even the city’s architecture was altered to leave the houses open walled, all the easier to keep tabs. In El Dorado there is no privacy, there is no peace of mind—there is only fear. You never know when a Wielder is watching you. And, if ever you should fail to play your role in the elaborate hoax, there are no second chances. People disappear from the city all the time, no word or hint about their whereabouts. But no one dares ask or acknowledge the disappearances lest they be the one to vanish next.”

  “What happens to them? The ones who vanish,” Cody asked, unsure if he truly wanted to hear the answer.

  “The ones who openly defy the King are eliminated. Offered as living sacrifices to his unholy monster.”

  “Hoin and Koin…,” Cody whispered, remembering Tiana’s story.

  Tallsin’s face hardened. “Both valuable members of The Resistance. They gave their lives willingly so that we could have this meeting.”

  “What about the others? What happens to them? Are they brought here? Down to the furnace?”

  “Not all who disappear are threats…many are simply outdated. The Golden King obsesses over perfection. He will not tolerate anything, or anyone, that fails to meet his delusional ideals. Anything deemed less-than-perfect is discarded down here to the underworld, or what some call Under-Under-Earth. Down here in this godforsaken pit, the imperfect either die off or deteriorate until they can serve some gruesome purpose. You witnessed the horrors within the Orb Monument. The King has recently found a new use for us. Harvesting our very souls to fuel his new soldiers.”

  “But how did you end up down here. You’re legendary. Were you a prisoner-of-war?”

  The old man’s eyes became sorrowful. In that instant he looked every bit the ancient age he was. “History is unjust. It picks favorites. Randilin and his infamous dark deeds overshadow the reality that there were many who switched sides during the Great War. Regrettably, like so many others, I believed the lie that El Dorado was invincible. When the dust settled I wanted to be found on the winning side. During those first days it was everything I imagined and more. The Golden King offered me a position of prominence and I began constructing armor for the warriors.

  “When the good King Ishmael miraculously overthrew his brother I was too ashamed to return. I wasn’t ready to embrace a life of banishment like Randilin, so I stayed here. After The Great War, the Golden King began rebuilding his forces. He needed something new; he would not lose again in the same way. The day he discovered how to infuse golden platelet armor into his warriors’ skin, any use I may have once had was gone. I was among the first banished to this ghastly pit where I’ve had many long years to repent of my mistakes.”

  “You mentioned something about a resistance….”

  At the question, Tallsin’s somber demeanor was transformed into a militant determination.

  “For thousands of years The Resistance has grown right under the Golden King’s nose. We never assemble in large groups. Often times a single conversation has been stretched over several years, spoken sporadically and by people who are careful never to draw attention to themselves. Slowly, we have infiltrated the city. The Resistance exists in the palace, in the marketplace, in the servant quarters, in the barracks, even in the King’s own inner-circle. We have waited, patiently waited, millennium after millennium, buying our time, living in shadow, waiting for the opportune moment to strike,” he paused, his boney hand stroking his sharp chin as a grin formed on his face. “That time has come at last.”

  74

  Danger

  STARTLED BY EVERY SOUND, Cody kept his eyes downcast as he scurried through the city. Slow down, don’t draw attention to yourself! The city that once had seemed so shiny and magnificent now was pallid and haunting.

  Cody felt the sting of unseen eyes burrowing into him. He fought to clear his mind, as though the eyes could peer through his skin and read his thoughts. With his head down he bumped into two people walking the opposite direction. Regaining his balance, Cody looked up to apologize—and looked straight into the eyes of a Dark-Wielder.

  His body stiffened. Stay calm! Giving a hurried nod of apology, Cody slipped around the two hooded creatures and hastened down the street. He could hear the soft patter of steps behind him. He risked a glance over his shoulder—the Wielders were following him.

  Don’t overreact, it doesn’t mean anything. Cody turned down a narrow back alley and picked up his pace. After several moments he once again heard the rhythm of the Wielders’ steps mirroring his. Panic began to rise up in him.

  Reaching the end of the alley he covered his mouth and whispered, “Vapiroi!” A thick cloud of smoke instantly filled the area. Cody dashed out of the alleyway and pressed his back against a wall. Through the dense haze Cody saw the shape of the two Wielders, just a foot away from him.

  They scanned both directions and, without exchanging a word, they split up, each hurrying down separate paths. Cody doubled back down the way he had come. That was too close.

  Cody dashed down the palace hallway. Almost there. He threw open his chamber door—and collided into Tiana. “Umph!” Tiana grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into the room, slamming the door closed behind them.

  “Where on earth have you been!? I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she stammered. Her face was pale and her hair was crazy. Cody noticed the skin around her lips was raw and there was an unusual expression on her face.

  “Ti, are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

  Tiana shoved him off. “Where’s Jade?” she demanded.

  Cody held his hands out defensively. “I don’t know where Jade is. But I really need to talk to you. You will not believe what I’ve found. I…”

  “It doesn’t matter right now! What matters is that we find Jade.” The urgency in her voice was frightening.

  Cody took a step backwards. “Ti, what’s going on? What happened?”

  Tiana eyes blazed with intensity. “Jade’s life is in terrible danger!”

  75

  A Special Girl

  JADE LOOKED AT HIM WITH WONDER. The Golden King’s skin shimmered in the light, casting rainbows on the wall. He stood with the posture of a man with confident authority, not unlike her military father.

  “Welcome. Please have a seat.” Jade looked to Hansi, who urged her forward. She walked into the chamber and sat in the lone chair. The King turned to face her.

  “I apologize for the late summoning. I pray it wasn’t too inconvenient?” he asked, his voice gentle as a clear lake.

>   Jade shook her head. “Of course not,” she responded quickly.

  The King smiled. “I knew I could count on you; which is precisely why I’ve asked you to join me tonight. Because I need you.”

  “Me?” Jade asked in surprise, “Why didn’t you ask Cody? He’s the Book Keeper.”

  The King laughed. “Yes, but he’s not like you. You must understand by now…you are very special.” His golden hand stroked her ebony hair. “Like the daughter I never had….”

  The King paced around the chair placing his long fingers on her shoulders. “From the day you arrived I knew you weren’t like the others. That, like myself, you were a student of science, an open-minded pursuer of answers to the questions others, like your dear friend, Cody, are far too timid to ask.”

  Jade soaked the words in with unpreventable pride. “My father taught me to exercise my brain. To treat it as my most valued and powerful possession,” she blurted.

  “You father was a wise man, and you are a wise girl. Which is what makes it so tragic that you have been restricted…”

  Jade’s ears perked up. “Restricted? How?”

  The King glided back in front of her. “When you were in Atlantis why do you think you were ignored? Treated as a thoughtless child? Never included in important councils or trusted by the royal family?”

  Jade shrugged. “Because that dumb book chose Cody and not me.”

  “Wrong! Do you want to know the real reason?” he lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Fear.”

  The King stood. “They were afraid that your enlightened mind would see right through their truthless mask. Afraid their lies and false beliefs could not blind you like everyone else. You saw them for who they really were.”

  The Golden King pressed his finger against Jade’s forehead. “Which is why they used the forbidden High Language to tamper with your thoughts.”