Downpour(II-1): El Dorado

Book II

The City of Gold

1. El Dorado

The woman looked up from her phone to interrupt. “Sorry Nick, this is really embarrassing, but I forgot I’m supposed to meet some friends tonight.” She was sliding out of the chair as if she had been planning an escape for a long while.

     Nick’s heart sunk. “Well alright then. Giant river snake nearly taking my head off wasn’t interesting enough for you eh?” An edge had come into his voice. He took a drink, wondering just what sort of near death experience would be enough for such a person.

     “No, really, it’s a great story, but I just have to go.” Her voice was false, and did nothing to assuage the hurt Nick was feeling.  

     “Oh at least tell the man the truth. No sense in lying to him about it. She’s bored with your story, simple as that, and she’s much better looking than you,” said Henry, finishing his drink in a single gulp. He was only giving Nick a hard time, but when the woman did nothing to correct him, he seemed to soften a little bit. From across the table he gave Nick an apologetic smile realizing that he might have been part of the cause. While they often goaded Nick, they never intended to do any real harm.

     “That’s alright. Have a good evening.” Nick said, noticing that the woman was already half way to the door. He watched as she walked out into the rainy night, blonde hair swishing behind her. Damnit.

     “Bad luck there, Nick. I’m sorry to see it,” said Marcus.

     Nick would have been angry, if he had not felt like he had dodged a bullet. “Well if Amazon forest monsters and plane crashes aren’t enough to entertain her, then likely she would have got bored of me soon anyway. I don’t think I’ve got much up my sleeve aside from that.”

     Albert sat up in his chair and patted him on the back. “Well how about another round?”

     “Nah, I think I’ll just head home,” said Nick, rather glumly.

     “Oh don’t be a sad sack,” yelled Jimmy from behind the bar. “I haven’t seen someone strike out that bad in years. You can have at least another round on me.”

     “Yeah, and there’s not a chance that you’re leaving without finishing that cock-and-bull story of yours. Might be a load of tripe, but I want to know how it ends.” Said Marcus, resuming his tone of skepticism.

     Nick could not help but smile. Surrounded by drunken monster hunters in a dive bar, he felt truly at home. He looked around to each of them in turn. “Alright fine. I’ll finish the story for you, but we’re going to need a few more drinks to go around.”

     “Thas’ the Nick I know,” grumbled Albert. “Alright, let’s hear about El Dorado. I know your friend might be gone, but I still don’t believe a word of it. That place is a myth, talked about only by drunks and beggars, trying to convince the unwary that they’re more well off than they are.”

     “If I hadn’t seen it myself, I’d agree with you. Even standing there in the jungle, I didn’t believe it. I was sure the snake had somehow killed me, and this was my mind playing tricks, but it was the real deal.”

     Jimmy came around and set three mugs on the table full of sizzling liquid once more.

Where do you get these drinks?” Nick asked, already feeling sorry for his liver just by looking at it.  

     “Aw, have a few more and you won’t be complaining,” said Jimmy moving back to the bar.

     Even as Nick walked toward the golden temple, he could not believe what he was seeing. The whole thing seemed to radiate light into the surrounding jungle, and the snake that had been attacking him was nowhere to be seen. There’s no way this is real. I must be dead, he thought, pinching himself and wincing as he realized that he was still very badly injured.

He hobbled towards the temple, feeling the exertion he had made to escape the snake. Once more, Nick found that the tome he had been carrying was flung perfectly out of harm’s way, and had landed just a few feet in front of the temple. He stooped to pick it up and then with a surprising lack of trepidation, walked in to the temple.

     The golden light enveloped him on all sides, and from the other side of the tunnel leading in, he could hear voices. Warmth spread through his limbs as though he were being rejuvenated by every second he spent in the light. He walked for a short while, unable to see nothing but the brightness before him, and the gold path beneath his feet.

After a minute or so, the light began to clear, and steps sloped downward. The voices grew louder, and Nick could hear a raucous party. As he stepped out of the light, his mouth dropped open. Before him lay a city of gold, constructed in the ancient Aztec style. Square pyramids rose in the distance, and he looked out upon a crowded street of tall golden shops. He winced as the light from it all nearly blinded him again.

     Hundreds of people were running around what appeared to be a crowded market. Above him he noticed that the sky had changed, and was now cloudless, with a moon larger than any he had ever seen. Dominating the city, was one particularly large pyramid with a massive diamond on top, glinting in the moonlight. Occasionally it would shoot beams of gold light down into the city, creating massive illuminations as it did so.

     Nick barely had time to take it all in when he was almost knocked to the ground. “You are alive,” a voice shouted. Nick was thumped on the back vigorously. He spit out some river water that he had not known he was carrying, and staggered. The figure of Lopsang came into focus, and he nearly fainted as he had become sure he was dead.

     Lopsang caught him, and looked concerned. “What the hell happened to you?”

     Nick’s eyes widened as he recognized his friend. “Drink first, story later.”

     Lopsang laughed, realizing that Nick was at least going to live long enough for a drink. “Sure thing, follow me this way, I know just the place.” Lopsang put an arm over Nick’s shoulder and guided him into the market.

     They weaved in between buildings, following long alleys made entirely of gold, and bustling with people that looked like they could have been from different centuries. To their right, a shop door opened, spilling acrid purple smoke with it, and a man in a pith helmet and khakis stepped out. On his shoulder, he wore a large hunting rifle, and pinned to his shirt were medals from World War I.

     Nick stared for a moment, but was then again distracted by what appeared to be a group of conquistadors, speaking in rapid Spanish and moving at a fast clip through the alleyway. They still seem angry after all these years, thought Nick, and laughed a little at the absurdity of it. “Quite the costume party,” said Nick.

     “It takes a bit of getting used to,” said Lopsang, who was looking a little confused trying to find his way through the large city.

In the distance music played, lively, and happy. Nick was unsure how anyone was supposed to find their way in the city. With everything painted gold, it felt as though nothing was distinct. It reminded him oddly of being lost in the jungle, and passing the same tree four times. Only now, the tree was solid gold, which significantly improved his spirits about the situation

“How is this place even possible?” Nick had read some stories about El Dorado, but of all the things to be real, he had never expected it. Settlers had talked about a mysterious city in the South American jungle, made entirely of gold, where the waters of life flowed forever, and the people were immortal. To Nick, and most others, it seemed far too good to be true.

     “I think we’d better get you that drink first. There’s a friend there that’ll do a better job explaining it than me,” said Lopsang, looking around again for the path they were supposed to take. They kept walking, and Nick continued to stare at the odd assortment of people. Just before he was going to reach out and try to ask a woman dressed almost entirely in feathers about just what the hell was going on, they turned into a darkened building, and entered a bar.

     Nick’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light, but what he saw felt even stranger than outside. In the corner of a bar, a band sat atop a raised stone dais, surrounded by floral creepers and a cool pond around them. Three of them were playing on carved flutes of various kinds, while a fourth was on a drum set that had been made from jungle hides. Each wore long robes, colored light green and gold. Feathers stuck out long behind them from headbands that they wore. Each, was ornamented with gold pieces.

Below the stage, on a lowered floor, there were crowded tables, lit dimly by gold shafts of light coming from square holes in the ceiling. Once again, Nick could not understand the sheer array of dress that people were wearing. A group of men dressed in colonial clothing were trying to talk to a very familiar looking American pilot. Before Nick could get a good look however, Lopsang led them to the bar.

It was a long gold slab with square seats coming out of the floor which appeared uncomfortable. “They really like their gold don’t they?” said Nick.

“Well, the legend of El Dorado didn’t come from nowhere.  Lopsang motioned to a stiff looking man in a 1920s business suit to bring them drinks. “But they make a good drink. It’s a close second to mountain wine.”

     Nick grinned, remembering drinking wine with Lopsang and James in a lodge high up in the mountains. Why couldn’t it just have ended there.

     “We’ll get him back,” said Lopsang, reading Nick’s expression.

     “I hope so,” said Nick, feeling thankful that he wouldn’t have to feel this way for long if the bar made a decent drink.

     Their drinks came, and Nick followed Lopsang to a table on an open patio. The bar was built lower than street level, and looked out on a river that was cut deep between the buildings. Its dazzling blue made Nick feel calm. A boat floated lazily down it, carrying a group of young men who appeared to be smoking from a hookah, and blowing smoke rings. Carvings of ancient warriors ran down the sides of the building across from them and into the water, where they were met by large gold serpents. Nick shuddered.

     “Are we dead?” asked Nick, knowing that he probably wasn’t, but feeling the need to confirm it. It was the only logical explanation for the odd surroundings, and the all-too-fortuitous appearance of the golden temple. However, in Nick’s experience, the logical answer was almost never the correct one “Tell it to me straight Lopsang, I didn’t make it after all, did I?”

     Lopsang took a drink and looked at him solemnly. “Look Nick, there’s no easy way to say this.” He trailed off, seeming sad.

     “Taken out by a giant snake. Well I guess it’s not the worst way to go.”

     Lopsang’s eyes widened, and then he cracked a smile. “I’m messing with you. You’re perfectly alive. You’ve just happened to find the mysterious moving city of El Dorado.”

     “Moving city?”

     “It’s all very confusing. If you’ll allow me, I’ve got a friend who can explain it much better.”

     “Sure, where is he?”

     “Well, that’s the thing. You’re not going to like it.” Lopsang’s eyes shifted uncomfortably. “But I’ll tell you Nick, he’s really not all that bad, and he knows more about this place than anyone.”

     Nick racked his brain, fumbling through the long list of people he wouldn’t want to run into. It was hard to think of anything negative when surrounded by a city made entirely of gold. “Come on Lopsang, they can’t be that bad.” The truth of the matter was that most people Nick didn’t want to see were dead, and as he had apparently not died; he was not worried about running into them.

     “Alright, hold on a minute.” Lopsang stood up and walked to a dark portion of the bar that appeared to be a recessed cave. He stopped at a table full of people huddled in discussion and motioned over to Nick. One of the shadows moved to look at him, and Nick could have sworn he heard argument, but Lopsang was soon striding over with another person in tow.

     Nick craned his neck to try and see who it was, and then felt his heart sink. The man that walked out of the shadows was wearing a tacky explorers outfit, and walking with a large wooden stick. He looked as though he had stepped straight out of a National Geographic documentary. In fact, Nick was quite sure he had.

     “Paul Mansen,” said Nick with trepidation. “It’s been a long time.”