City of Cruelty and Copper (Temperance Era) Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Deceitfulness?”
    “Bravery.” He winked and pushed the canvas aside with a loud whoosh. I followed him down the carved steps into the hallway and around the center of Central. I glanced at the round marble pillars and at the endless cavern above. This hallway was shaped like a horseshoe, and at intervals were pillars that showed off the center of Central. It was like a courtyard, different levels of circular stones intertwined with individual stepping stones. They taught us about the rituals the first founding families performed there, but years ago they stopped using it.
    Isaac entered the tunnel that wound upwards to the surface, white rays of sunlight blinding us before we emerged, ending up on the back roads of the South Side. I led the way towards the Arena, my short staccato steps hurrying alongside Isaac’s long strides. He tilted his head to the summer sun and took in a deep breath of sea misty air. The South side was closest to the ocean, a tumultuous wild thing rimmed by stone walls. Nobody was permitted to jump over the ledge. They had signs posted everywhere: PROBABILITY FOR DEATH: 100% DO NOT JUMP. Temperance was like that, balanced, mathematical, scientific. But then Temperance was also naïve, foolish and unrealistic. To believe that one day we would know the secrets to immortality was a joke.
    The backside of the Arena came into view. It was something that had been left for us by the Atlanteans or whomever occupied the southern continent of Earth before we did. Temperance didn’t believe in teaching us things they weren’t sure were facts, so everything was up for debate. It was one of the things I liked about my upbringing. I was taught to believe what I wanted to believe. I never had to regurgitate facts. I only had to remember the regime of our family’s traditions. We rounded the large stone Arena - oval in shape with layers of stone benches for the public to conglomerate on. The founding families made improvements as the years went on; installed the black boxes, the grates, and various other Fable killing contraptions.
    I glanced at Isaac as we neared the main gates. “I won’t be long.”
    The commoners were already crowding the front, waiting for their moment to grab their seats. I slipped past them and sought the eyes of a guard. He nodded and pushed the gate open a foot to let me through. It snapped shut behind me. I pulled my flashlight out and clicked it on as I quickened my pace. My boots didn’t clack on the sandy floors as I wended my way through the tunnels towards our black box. The door was open. I stepped inside and immediately my senses were assaulted by the strong smell of cinnamon and burnt aluminum. I glanced at the shiny black table in the center of the room. Two black leather couches rested on either side of the black table. My father was sitting on one of them, the aluminum and cinnamon coming from the burning stick in his mouth. It was some new fad they were trying. He was dressed in regal military uniform, all brass buttons and tassels and stripes. He wore a crew-style hat and polyester slacks.
    “Do you want one?” he asked, taking it out of his mouth while the burnt ends of aluminum fell into a growing pile on the gray carpet.
    “No.”
    “Good, they’re not very good for you.” Rab leaned forward and smushed it into a dish on the table. He stood and paced the room, looking through the iron bars into the Arena. “You came early.”
    “I had a favor to ask.”
    “You don’t want to be here.”
    “No—well it’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, but I wanted to sit up in the stands with a friend.” I was the worst liar ever. I closed my eyes and pressed my tongue between my teeth, clamping down slightly. Rab didn’t turn around. He clasped his hands behind his back but otherwise showed no emotion.
    “Is the friend a boy?”
    “Yes.”
    Rab sighed. “Everyone will be here soon. You’ll miss seeing them.”
    He meant the rest of my family.