The Golden City by John Twelve Hawks Read Free Book Online Page A

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    She could recall scattered moments with her father and mother, Linden, Mother Blessing and the other Harlequins, but Gabriel was the only voice she could still hear, the only face she could still see. So far, her love had protected these memories, but it was becoming more difficult to bring them back. Was Gabriel fading away like a photograph exposed to sunlight, the colors less vivid, the shapes less distinct? If she lost him a second time, then she would become just like the others on the island—dead within, but still alive.
    —
    Maya heard a scraping noise in the hallway and opened her eyes. She only had a few seconds to draw her sword before the door opened an inch or so and hit the desk. She grabbed her shoulder bag, slung the strap over her left shoulder, and stood listening. The intruder knocked on the door.
    “Are you there?” asked a soft voice. “It’s Pickering. Mr. Pickering. I’m Gabriel’s friend.”
    “There aren’t any friends on this island.”
    “But it’s true,” Pickering said. “I swear that it’s true. I helped Gabriel when he first came here and then the wolves captured us. Open the door. Please. I’ve been looking for you.”
    She vaguely recalled a man in rags. He had been chained to a pipe in the abandoned school used as headquarters by the wolves. As Maya wandered alone through the city, she had encountered a few of the human cockroaches that hid themselves within walls or beneath floors. They always seemed frightened and talked rapidly, as if the constant flow of words would prove they were still alive. The cockroaches were the intellectuals of Hell—filled with grand schemes and lengthy explanations.
    Maya returned the sword to its leather scabbard, walked over to the door and pulled the desk a few inches toward her. Pickering must have heard the desk legs squeaking across the tile floor because he immediately turned the knob. This time the door opened wide enough for him to stick his head inside the room. “It’s Mr. Pickering, at your service. I had a tailor’s shop before the trouble started. The finest ladies’ clothing.” He took a deep breath. “And whom I have the honor of meeting?”
    “Maya.”
    “Maya …” He savored the word. “Such a beautiful name.”
    Pickering had a ferret’s ability to squeeze through any gap as large as his head. Before Maya could react, he passed through the crack in the doorway and was suddenly inside the room. He was a skinny, trembling man with a long hair and a beard. A shred of green silk wrapped around his neck looked like a hangman’s noose, but Maya realized that it was an even more unlikely object—a necktie.
    “So how did you find me?”
    “I know all the hiding places on this island. I came here once and saw a footprint on the stairs.”
    “Did you tell anyone?”
    “I was tempted. Anyone would have been tempted.” Pickering showed his yellow teeth. “The new Commissioner of Patrols has offered one hundred food units to whoever kills you.”
    “If he really wants me dead, he should double the reward.”
    “Most of the wolves are scared of you. Some say you’re a ghost or a demon. You can’t be killed because you’re already dead.”
    Maya sat back down on the chair. “Maybe that’s true.”
    “You’re alive. I’m quite sure of that. Gabriel wasn’t a ghost, and you came here to rescue him. But now you’re trapped here like the rest of us.”
    “And that’s why you tracked me down? To tell me that I’m trapped?”
    “I’m here to save you. And save myself, of course. But first we have to go to the library. I’ve searched the entire building and I finally found the map room. The door to the room is still locked. I don’t think it’s been looted.”
    “The people here don’t care about maps. They want food—and weapons.”
    “Yes. Quite true. That’s all they want. But I believe that a map of the island is in the library. There have always been rumors about a tunnel beneath the river. A