City of Gold (23 page)

Randilin shrugged. “I have no
people
. The only ruddy person I live for is my own disgraceful self. It’s a simple choice: In Atlantis I’m a despised criminal destined for a lifetime in prison or a dance with the gallows. In El Dorado I can be much more.”

The King stared at him steadily. “I recall a similar scene taking place in this very court a thousand years ago. I would have thought you’d have changed. After you watched them die; after what happened to Arianna.”

Randilin’s fists clenched. “Don’t you
dare
say that name.”

The King smiled and motioned to the head table. “As you wish.” Two golden golems obediently brought another chair. The King continued, “You will have freedom and shelter in El Dorado.”

Grabbing Foz’s arm, Randilin wiped his lips on the Prince’s sleeve. “Then you better ruddy listen up. I’m only going to say this once.”

He scurried through the thick shadows, his eyes scanning the daunting battlements. He halted at the base of the wall and ducked down low. He held his breath and his hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
Was I seen?

As the silence lingered, Dace relaxed his grip on his blade and beckoned to the others. One-by-one the procedure was repeated until the entire Company was crouched against the wall.

“We need to be swift. We get in, grab Cody and Jade, and get out,” Dace issued. “Randilin promised he would ensure we would be undetected on the other side.”

He turned and faced The Company. “I’ll go first. Wait for my signal. If anything goes wrong—flee without looking back.” Dace looked up the immense wall stretching up to the cave’s ceiling and grinned. On his mark, Chazic started to whisper: “
Dastanda
.”

Dirt began to spew out from the base of the wall like a volcanic eruption.
One hundred feet tall, ten feet deep.

Dace emerged from the tunnel and immediately scanned the surroundings. The city was quiet. He peered up to the walls and found there were no guards in sight.
Randilin’s a man of his word. We timed the changing of the guards perfectly.
Dace pushed himself silently from the burrow. Lowering his face to the opening, he whistled softly.

There was a soft thud as Tat appeared beside him, followed by the others. “So far, so good. They’ll surely have Cody and Jade locked in the palace,” Dace whispered. “Let’s go!” Dace pushed himself to his feet and dashed into the silent clearing, followed by the others.

Instantly, seemingly out of nowhere, golden warriors came streaming into the clearing. Dace reached for his sword. He heard the clattering boots as more golems circled from behind. From the ramparts and rooftops dozens of golems appeared with readied bows. They were completely surrounded.

The blockade of soldiers parted and Prince Foz strutted forward with a gloating smirk. “Welcome, my old friends!” he said. “I ask you to kindly set down your weapons.”

Dace tightened his grip on his sword hilt and examined the situation. The archers on the walls readied their arrows. Finally, with an angry snort, Dace tossed his sword to the ground. “Stand down men,” he ordered. The others reluctantly obeyed, discarding their weapons into the pile—except for Chazic who clung defiantly to his powerful scimitars.

“Chazic,
stand down
. That’s an order. We can’t win this fight.” The Enforcer’s eyes were pinned to Foz. “Chazic, it’s not worth it.” As Chazic braced himself to pounce, Foz held up his hand to signal the archers. The stalemate dragged on for several tense moments, both awaiting the other to make their move.

With a grunt Chazic threw his scimitars to the ground.

“Wise move,” Foz said as he motioned to the soldiers. Several rushed forward to gather the discarded weapons and bind the prisoners. Dace kept a cool gaze on the Prince as his arms were bound behind him.

“How did you know?” Dace demanded.

Foz grinned. “Because you need to be far more careful in how you choose your friends.” The Prince stepped aside to reveal Randilin. The dwarf stood off from the group, his hands unbound.

Dace’s face was blank with disbelief. “You betrayed us? How? Why?”

Randilin dropped his eyes. “You said it yourself after Redtown; I can’t be trusted. I’m a bad man. You should have taken your own advice.”

55

An Under-Earth Fortune Cookie

CODY’S HEAD WAS SPINNING like a wild carousel. He squeezed his temples, trying to calm himself.
What’s going on here?
The banquet had been a whirlwind.
Why am I acting so childish toward Jade? Why were the Story-Weavers escorted away?
He shook his head like a wet dog. And what in the world is Randilin doing?

He had been informed that Dace and the others had been detained without any violence. Yet, still, he felt a sense of guilt. He, after all, had been the one who had insisted to the others that Randilin join The Company. They had trusted him. Now, as a result, they were behind bars. But he couldn’t do anything to help his friends until the morning so he pushed the worries from his mind.

His stomach rumbled. During the wild proceedings of the banquet, he had only picked at his food. And what he hadn’t eaten had been promptly snatched and devoured by Randilin.
I wonder if there’s a High Language word for cheesecake?
He imagined it longingly. If there was such a word for it, he could imagine that it would have been one of his most important lessons.
Stalkton’s been holding out on me.

He plopped himself on his bed and dumped out his backpack. He picked up the Book and nestled it against his chest. Once again the energy was intense, like water bursting through a dam; it was almost too much to handle. He slipped it under his pillow rather than his regular nightly routine of keeping it under his shirt.

Next he raised the ruby pocket-watch. His eyes traced the direction of the short red hand toward the open chamber window. Already his thoughts of Atlantis felt like distant memories from another life.

He lifted the pocket-watch curiously as the long purple hand began slowly rotating before going still. Of the four clock-hands, the purple one alone remained a mystery.

Then, to his great delight, he discovered the final object from his emptied backpack: the silver glazed tart he had been given in the marketplace. His still-hungry stomach shouted in celebration.

He didn’t have the slightest clue what the
tart
actually was, but at that moment, raw pig gizzards marinated in cough syrup would have tasted like chocolate ice cream. He crammed the whole thing into his mouth and chomped down on it.

The tart had an unusually bitter flavor. He gagged and grabbed his throat. It almost tasted like parchment. Actually, it tasted exactly like parchment. Cody regurgitated the half-chewed sludge into his hand. Sticking out slightly from the middle was the corner of a piece of paper.

Cody retrieved it and wiped the saliva from it. It was the size of the paper one would find in a fortune cookie. On one side were two letters:
G. T
. He flipped the paper and found a simple inscription:

EVERYTHING IS A LIE.

56

Missing

HE RUBBED THE BACK of his hand across his sweaty forehead. Even though the night was generally peaceful, the slightest sound made his heart jump. He had pushed his luck—and he knew it. He tried to relax his tense shoulders.
Act natural. Don’t look so suspicious!

With another look both ways he entered into his house. “
Sweetheart?”
he whispered carefully. He glanced to the kitchen table. Beside his untouched and now cold dinner was a cleared plate.
She’s gone to bed already.
He was relieved. It appeared more natural that way.

A rustle from outside startled him. He grabbed the kitchen table for balance, causing a loud clamor as his stale dinner plate fell to the floor.
Blast! It’s too late, just leave it.

He hurried toward the bedroom. He quickly removed his coat and looked to the bed. The lump of his wife under the covers brought him relief and comfort. “
Sweetheart, your Brodon is home
….” He stepped to the bed and tenderly lifted up the covers.

Two crystal tomblike eyes peered up at him. He screamed—then all was silent.

Cody was awake the moment the bright light of the orb shone through his window. He looked out over the waking city as he grabbed his tunic from the dresser. He realized how much he missed Upper-Earth sunrises. The abrupt arrival of mornings was incredibly unpleasant.

He picked up the paper warning from the previous night and shoved it into his pocket. He had questions that needed answering. As he stepped from his room he turned to walk down the hallway but stopped. He looked over his shoulder toward the chamber on the far end of the corridor: Jade’s room.

He hesitated for only a moment before continuing on his way, alone.

By the time he reached the marketplace there were already several people roaming through the vendors’ booths. Cody retraced his steps from the previous day with Jade. Skirting around a shopper he reached the location of the merchant’s pastry stall.

It was gone.

In the precise spot where the booth had surely been the previous day now stood a lone tree. The solitary tree seemed out of place to the point of being comical. Cody rubbed his forehead
. I could have sworn it was right here.
He glanced down the long row of tents but the stall and its merchant were nowhere to be seen.

Cody turned to the vendor beside the vacant lot. It was the same tall elderly lady as before.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Cody began, “I’m wondering where I might find the man who was set up here yesterday afternoon.”

The lady stared at Cody curiously. “Son, there hasn’t been a man in that lot in a hundred years.”

Cody fingered the crumbled paper in his pocket. “But there was! I’m sure of it! What was his name?” He rubbed his eyes searching his memory. “Brodon! That’s it! He made silver-colored tarts. You must remember—you were standing right there!” Cody exclaimed, his voice raising.