Read my crap:
Cartographer’s Vault
When Gideon opened his eyes, he knew one of his secrets was
missing. He threw the sheets off his frail body and scanned his quiet study:
hanging globe, silent wind chimes, and mounds of towering rocks. Everything was
still. Gideon seethed through his sparse teeth and leapt from the bed. He scrambled
through the stones, tossing emeralds and rubies, muttering from one to the
next.
A knock came at his door, and the
corded bell rang. Outside his windows, rain poured from dark clouds, obscuring
the sun. “Open up, Gideon. It’s Matthew. We need to talk.”
The string attached to the bell was
pulled with greater conviction at each tug. He rushed to the door and pinned
the string to the wall. It continued to struggle against the doorframe,
twanging its impatience. Gideon opened the door. “Your racket doesn’t help me
get to the door any faster.”
Matthew—middling height, black hair
streaked auburn from ocean water, and a large nose—grinned in his wet clothes.
“I bet it did. Now are you going to let your apprentice in, or shall we
continue making bets you’ll lose?”
Gideon frowned but moved aside and nodded
Matthew inside. Matthew moved nimbly among the stones and laughed at the
tumbled pile of gems.
“So you know, too?” he said.
“How could
I not know? They’re my creations! What went wrong?”
“Well, none
of it went well.” Matthew’s grin disappeared. “It started with—”
Gideon
waved his hands and shook his head.
Matthew
frowned and tilted his head, “What, you don’t want to hear it?”
“Who
knows?”
“Who knows?
It doesn’t matter Gideon! The secret’s lost. People know you’ve stored their
maps in coded books. They know you haven’t memorized it all this time. And, they know
their security was lost with your trick of the trade.” Matthew’s sides heaved,
and when he finished speaking, it looked as if he regretted every word. He
crossed his arms. “Listen, Gideon, there’s still time—”
“No.”
Gideon shook his head. “I don’t believe, you. It can’t be possible. How could
they have known?” He glared at Matthew, and he couldn’t stop the incredulity
from spreading over his face. “You told them, didn’t you?”
Matthew
raised his arms in disbelief. “Gideon, there’s no reason I’d ever cheat you—”
“Liar! You
did it for money! Or… or women, booze….” Gideon crumbled onto a leather chair,
its supple folds cold and hostile. He sobbed and let his head loll side to
side.
“Will you
believe anything I say? Will you listen to how I think we can fix this?”
Matthew was at Gideon’s side, imploring from his knees. “I think I know who
sold us out, but we have to get all your coded books first.”
Gideon stood
and wobbled to his cabinet of alcohol. He yanked a loose cork free and tossed
it away while he drank several gulps. A moment’s breath was quickly followed
with more drinking. When he pulled free, Gideon sighed and looked at Matthew
with teary eyes. “I’m ruined.”
“No,
Gideon, you’re not. You’re among the best cartographers in the world, and
everyone knows it. The Guides are trying to bring you down. If you make an
announcement, at least for a short time, they’ll be busy trying to figure out
what it means. That will buy us enough time for my plan.”
“Your
plan.”
“Yes, my
plan. We have to make them form decisions based on what we do, not the other
way around. It starts with the books. We have to alter them.” Matthew picked up
a large amethyst fragment and ran his fingers along its surface, his eyes haphazardly
skipping over the purposeful crags and the shifting depths of color. He tossed
the stone casually into the pile and hefted a book. "Is this one of them?"
Gideon sighed,
rubbed his eyes, and fought the urge to vomit. Gideon stepped toward Matthew. His
throat was gravelly. “Okay, Matthew, let’s hear it.”
Matthew
smiled. “Good, you won’t regret it, Gideon. We have to be quick. Only we know
how to read the books, but now some Guides have figured out how to read them.
They’re coming here to get the rest. Instead of destroying them, we need to—”
A man
screamed outside.
Matthew
squeezed his eyes shut. “No… no, this is too fast. They couldn’t have followed
me.”
Another
scream came from a different person. Gideon felt dizzy and he smirked, “Well,
my pupil, it looks like they did.” He held up a broken rock.
“I hope
your plan is all it’s cracked up to be.” He laughed.
“Gideon,
you need to hide all the books.” Matthew’s voice was strained as he hurried
amongst shelves, picking books up in armfuls, and bringing them to the
worktable. He wiped plates and scrolls and quills and inkpots to the floor. Screaming
people were passing outside the door, the hysterical pulses of their screams
growing louder. One of Gideon’s windows shattered.
“Gideon,
help me, please. If we do this, there’s nothing left for them to do. Where can
we put them?”
The world
seemed a haze to Gideon. His legs gave way beneath him, and he slumped against
a wall. A warm sensation spread over his stomach. “That was some good booze.”
He laughed.
Matthew
looked at him, horrified, “Gideon, you’re shot, can you move? Gideon? Gideon!”
Gideon
heard the door break down. Ugly, obscured men—monsters in dark armor and
spiking weapons—with invisibles eyes and snarling teeth filled the room,
smashing stones and collecting books. A woman and man in flowing gold robes
stepped between the soldiers. Guides. They were pointing at Gideon. A blurry
weapon flicked behind Matthew’s head, and he was killed. The Guides stood over
Gideon.
“Your
apprentice told us everything. We can decode your books.”
Gideon smiled through bloody lips. “That’s good, they’re interesting books, but he didn't know a thing about decoding the stones. Sounds like you don't either.”
Gideon smiled through bloody lips. “That’s good, they’re interesting books, but he didn't know a thing about decoding the stones. Sounds like you don't either.”
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