City of Glass
Title Page
Chapter 1 –The Rusted Key
Chapter 2 –The Denizen’s Feast
Chapter 3 –The Twisted Ones
Chapter 4 –The Taste of Hate
Chapter 5 –Muse
Chapter 6 –The Price of Vengeance
Chapter 7 –Pyrrhic Victory
Chapter 8 –The Vow
About the Author
City of Glass
By Bard Constantine
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental
Copyright © 2012 Bard Constantine
All rights reserved.
Cover illustration copyright 2012 Larissa Kulik
To my nephew Tristan, because an uncle never forgets.
Chapter 1 –The Rusted Key
Talan loved to run.
He loved how the toughened soles of his bare feet slapped the ground, each step propelling him forward while the lean muscles in his legs churned until he was practically weightless. His tangle of dark hair streamed back, bouncing with every stride.
He grinned as he looked back at his pursuer.
“Stop, you thief!”
The man was already blowing hard, his moon-shaped face red from more than outrage. His massive gut weighed against him, making him too slow to catch Talan.
As if anyone could. Talan let the wind snatch his laughter as he ran even faster.
Duck, dodge, weave. He darted between startled townspeople, running low to the ground. The fat man would have given up; chasing Talan meant leaving his cart unattended. It would be a wonder if no one else had raided it by then.
Talan ran anyway, as the shouts of “Thief!” faded behind him. A guardsman looked at Talan as he zipped by, but thought better of pursuing. It was hot, and catching a ragged street boy not worth the effort.
After a few more yards Talan slowed down to a jog, still breathing evenly. His eyes darted, alert for any other boys or beggars that might covet his prize. When no one materialized, he leaped up on a stack of carts, straddled a brick fence, and leaped onto an overhanging rooftop. From there he was in his territory, imperceptible as he leaped from one roof to the next.
Normally he would have found a shady spot and reveled in his insular glory, but he was restless and let his feet take him where they would. As usual, they took him to the same place.
After hours of wandering, he looked up at the glittering walls of the City of Glass.
Albriktan shimmered at the boundaries of the town and the Wildwood. It did not belong there; did not belong anywhere in the world. Multi-hued plates reflected the light from the sun throughout the day, crystalline fingers stretched toward the sky from behind its gleaming walls.
In Talan’s mind it was a place of emerald and gold-chased dreams, towers frosted by sheets of frozen diamonds and dusted by the smiles of gods. It was a place where he would not have to steal or beg just to subdue the gnawing in his belly. Where homeless boys would be treated with smiles and kindness instead of curses and kicks.
But there was no entrance, no way to get inside and meet the Denizens, the mysterious beings that supplied the town with fresh water, gold, and many wondrous tools to make their tasks easier. All in exchange for some useless mineral from the mines.
The townspeople dwelt in comforts not dreamed of, yet Talan had not met anyone who had actually seen a Denizen. The majority of townspeople seemed content with their ignorance, and those who might know something would not speak of it. They walked about with fixed grins and glassy eyes, as if the city might shatter and blow away like dandelion dander if spoken of. All of that only made the idea of entry that much more tantalizing to Talan. But no matter how determinably he searched, he found nothing but futility day after day.
As he stared at the towering, shimmering walls, he unveiled the prize he had won earlier in the day. The apple was the color of soft blushes and large enough to hold in both hands. He savored the sweet, tart taste while he imagined all the glories that lay beyond the walls of Albriktan.
“What have we here, then? A little boy. A young, precocious, dreaming boy.”
Talan leapt at the unexpected voice, almost dropping his apple. Something small and swift yipped and scrambled up a nearby tree, as startled as he was. Talan scratched his head doubtfully as he gazed at the gray fox that peered cautiously at him from the branches.
“Now you imagine that animals can speak. Why do you dream of the impossible, boy?”
The man that spoke blended so well with the rock he reclined upon that Talan did not see him at first. He was grayer than the fox, draped in blended shades from his cloak to his boots. Even his hair and beard was gray.
“I’m sorry to bother you.” Talan warily edged backward. “I’m lost, that’s all. I’ll leave you to your business.”
“Relax, boy. I am not one of those who would harm you. If I wanted the guards, then they’d be here by now.” The Man in Gray sat up and gazed at Talan with steely eyes. “Young naïve, foolish boy. You have trespassed where you don’t belong day after day. I have seen other fools do the same. You seek a way into Albriktan.”
“I don’t….”
“Speak no lie, boy. The truth burns like fever in your eyes. You are not the first. Others have found the way inside. None of them have returned.”
Talan’s heartbeat quickened. “Then there is a way inside?”
The Man in Gray exchanged wry glances with the treed fox. “You listen to nothing, boy. You believe the Denizens will take kindly on an intruding stray?”
“I am good at not being seen.” Talan could not help the swell of pride in his voice. “I haven’t been caught by the magistrates here. I know all kinds of ways to get by their notice.”
“Clever boy, are you? Well, you might be.” The Man in Gray’s eyes gleamed silver as he tapped his bearded chin. “There might be a way for a clever boy to get inside, if he is capable enough.”
Talan practically bounced on his toes. “I’m capable. I’m faster and smarter than any other boy in the streets.”
“Is that so? Then listen carefully, boy. The stream that runs from Albriktan is the only way that someone clever and capable could get inside.”
“But… I’ve already tried.” Talan hung his head. “The tunnel is barely big enough for me to squeeze into. But it leads to a sluice gate. The gaps are too narrow for me to get through, and the bars too thick to cut. And on top of that it is locked.”
“Ah. Then I suppose it is impossible after all. Unless of course, one had the key.” The Man in Gray shook his tousled head regretfully.
The fox yipped again as it scratched furiously at something in the branches. The object fell from the tree with a metallic clatter.
The Man in Gray fixed a sharp gaze at Talan. “You should forget about Albriktan and go home, boy. The greatest of treasures can be found inside, true. But a price must be paid to liberate them. There is nothing beyond those walls but pain and grief for young, naïve, foolish boys. Best that you go back to being fast and capable. Rid yourself of deluded fantasies. If you pursue this matter further, you will have no one to blame but yourself.” He turned to the woods.
“Wait. Who… who are you?”
The Man in Gray smiled. “My name is Reynar. My friend here,” he gestured to the fox, “is Ash. I have been watching you, Talan, and know the sum of your worth. Choose well.”
Reynar turned and melded into the Wildwood without a backward glance. A moment later Talan heard him whistle softly. Ash barked and scrambled down the tree after his master.
For a long moment Talan teetered on the edge of indecision as the wind whispered softly throug
h the trees. He finished his apple and thought of Reynar’s words. He gazed at the shimmering walls, the multihued waves of light that danced across their surface.
Finally he crept over to examine what had fallen from the tree. He gasped.
It was a key. A large, heavily rusted key…
Chapter 2 –The Denizen’s Feast
The swim through the tunnel against the current was far more difficult than opening the gate. For a long panicked moment Talan thought he would not make it. His lungs burned, and specks flecked across his vision before he saw the welcoming glow of illumination that told him that the surface was imminent. He exploded from the stream with a roaring gasp, spewing water as he floundered to the bank and threw himself upon the spongy grass. He lay gasping and shivering before the realization dawned on him.
He had made it into Albriktan. He sat up and looked around, feeling his eyes widen in amazement.
It was beyond even his wildest imaginings. The paved walkways of hardened lace, the glittering sky-chased towers, even the scent of mint in the grass he lay upon was grander than any of his fantasies.
Lantern-shaped blossoms pulsed in shades of violet among the trefoil leaves of the slender, snow-colored trees that surrounded him. Even the stream was different on the inside of the walls; the azure waters rippled clear as liquid crystal. The wind carried the fragrance of cherry blossoms and honeysuckle as it whistled a carefree tune through the trees that swayed gently in response. Every building, every inch of the towering wall gleamed in the sunlight, yet the reflection was not glaring; the light gently glimmered until all was bathed in a soft, silvery blush.
Talan threw back his head and laughed. It existed. No longer just the runaway thoughts of a wild imagination, it was real. His earlier exhaustion vanished as he leaped to his feet and ran alongside the stream. The grass sprang back from his footsteps unmarred; the wind pushed him up the bank to get a better view of the City.
He noticed moving figures when he topped the bank, and quickly ducked behind one of the iridescent trees. Peering cautiously from his vantage point, he caught his first view of the Denizens.
All of them were tall –taller than the tallest man by at least head and shoulders. They were whip-slender as well, willowy beings with narrow faces and oversized, inky eyes that gleamed wetly. Their skin shone almost as brilliantly as the walls, nearly transparent. Yet even more astonishing was that while some walked across the grounds, others flitted above on gossamer wings; oversized dragonflies gleaming in the light’s brilliance. Talan could not help the smile of wonder that spread across his face.
One of them flew quite close, startling him. The onyx eyes turned his way, time slowed to a crawl. Talan tried to duck back, but it was too late.
The Denizen fluttered down near Talan’s hiding place in a rush of air and flashing wings. Talan immediately knelt, trembling as he prepared himself for the fury, the punishment for his trespass.
The Denizen approached in a soft, graceful manner. With his head downcast, Talan could only see the hem of its metallic-threaded robes as it stood silently before him.
He steeled himself and looked up.
The Denizen appeared to be female. Thick lashes framed her large obsidian eyes, and long golden tresses fell past her shoulders. Her nose was almost too small to be noticed, but her lips were curved in a smile that reflected in her eyes. She extended her hand to him; her elongated fingers open in invitation.
He warily took her hand. Her skin was soft as satin and tingled as though lightning flickered in her veins. Tiny dapples pulsed across its surface in hues of blue and violet. Her layered tunic gleamed metallically, yet appeared soft as down. She gently raised him erect and studied him curiously, tilting her head as though trying to solve the puzzle of his presence.
“I’m Talan,” he said, pointing to himself. “Talan.”
She jerked her head and continued staring without comprehension.
“I came from the other side.” He pointed. “Do you know where that is? What is this place? Does anyone ever cross over that you know? What do you do in here? How long have you been here?”
Her smile widened, but she still remained completely silent. He wondered if they spoke the way humans did, or had some other way to communicate.
She pointed to one of the towers, then back at him. Again, she repeated the gesture.
“You would take me there?” He imitated her motions. She nodded, then held out her arms.
“I’m not sure you’re strong enough to…”
The next moment he was flying.
She carried him easily under his arms and soared from the ground to above the treetops in an eye’s blink. Her wings whirred, humming steadily as she sailed toward the towers. His feet dangled over empty air. The rush left him breathless, his heart pounded against his chest, the ground blurred beneath them.
His laughter sailed on the wind.
When she gently set him down at the immense doorways of one of the towers, it was with no small regret that he watched her flit away, joining the swarms of other fliers above.
“We have a visitor.”
The sound of the voice was wooden flutes played on windy hills. Another Denizen towered over Talan. It appeared to be male, with a more angular face and slightly narrower eyes than the female. His skin was ivory slashed with cream stripes, his inky hair braided in a crest down his back.
The Denizen tilted its head. “You are from Beyond, yes? From the dying lands?”
“Yes. I’m from the other side. My name is Talan.”
“Talan. Yes.” The Denizen spoke rapidly and gestured with graceful hands. “Forgive if my speech is clumsy. We have little use for your way of words here. But I forget myself. You are an honored guest. Come. Please.”
Talan took the extended hand, and the Denizen led him down a hall so vast that it could have swallowed the entire town outside and still had room to spare. Inside was table after table laden with wondrous arrays of delicacies in gold and silver-chased ware.
Denizens flocked at the tables in continuous numbers as they streamed in and out of the banquet hall. Sounds of merriment rang freely as they spoke in voices just beyond the range of his hearing and laughed like the wind. They smiled and waved to Talan as he passed with his host.
A troupe of Denizens played distinctive, elegantly curved instruments on a dais at one end of the hall, producing melodies so beautiful that tears welled in Talan’s eyes at the sound.
“You will eat with us, yes?” The Denizen gestured grandly.
Talan sat at one of the tables, where he was offered honeyed cakes and unfamiliar sliced wedges of fresh fruit. The sweet nectar melted in his mouth, and his anxiety melted away soon after. He became engrossed in endless cakes, sweetbreads, honeyed date rolls, candied fruit and all the delectable delicacies he could stuff his face with while sipping teas and blended juices sweet enough to make his head dizzy.
“Dance with us,” the Denizens called to him in musical voices. “Dance with us, Talan from Beyond.”
He joined them, spinning and laughing with the graceful, smiling beings across tiles of spun gold. They sang songs in his language, songs of merriment that made him laugh until his belly ached. They taught him the steps to their dances, whirling about with the grace of gazelles. More dancers joined until they glided both across the floor and the air, hovering in time with the melody. The music played long after the sun retired, until the dancers at last grew weary.
Talan’s head drooped with fatigue, but he did not want to stop, afraid that he only dreamed the day as he had so many times before.
The Denizen who spoke to him earlier placed gentle hands upon his shoulders. “You have enjoyed this day, yes? Yet even a guest of honor must sleep like the rest of us. Come, I will show you your room.”
They strode down a cavernous hallway that could swallow the tallest trees of the Wildwood. Globes of light drifted on their own accord, scattering shadows as they advanced. By the time the Denizen halted, Talan was nea
rly exhausted from the long trek. Ornately lacquered doors opened to a bedchamber of rich wooden floors and walls, where a large golden bed waited. Talan drowsily crawled under the plush coverlets and laid his head upon the softly stuffed pillows.
“You are comfortable, yes?” the Denizen said.
“Very much, thank you,” Talan replied sleepily. “What will we do tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is a work day. If you wish to aid us, we would be especially grateful.”
“I’d be happy to. What kind of work is it?”
“Nothing difficult. Until tomorrow then, Talan from Beyond.”
Talan tried to reply but he had already slipped away, carried upon feathers of down to the darkness of heavy slumber. There he happily dreamt of spinning music, meadows and dancing fauns that played wooden pipes as he whirled among the falling leaves and laughed and laughed and laughed…
Chapter 3 –The Twisted Ones
Talan wakened to a hissing, scraping sound that dragged across the floor to his bed, scattering his dreams to the unsettling dimness of the barely illuminated room. He blinked open his eyes and sat up.
What he saw froze the scream that tried to rip from his throat.
A twisted monstrosity towered over the bed, its skeletal face so baleful that Talan could not tear his eyes away. The creature consisted only of tightly stretched leathery sinew drawn over a disproportionate body of knobby, jutting limbs. The hissing came from the snakes that writhed in place of tresses; the scraping was the sound the creature’s limbs made as it moved.
“Fool boy.” The monster’s voice was dry and crumbly as old dust. “Childish, trusting, young innocent boy. A fool you were to enter this place. Twice the fool to agree to the Pact.”
Talan shrieked and shrank against his pillows. His horror mounted further as he realized that the bed was pitted and scarred, a rusted frame supporting a sagging, rotted mattress full of pale, wriggling things. The sheets he lay under were ragged and moth-eaten. He closed his eyes and imagined the room as it was before, but deep inside he knew.
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