Treasures of the Forgotten City (Ultimate Ending Book 1)

by Danny McAleese

  "The architects here were masters," Waif says. "It's a shame so much of their knowledge was lost with the city itself."

  You're still not sure what happened to the city. Was Atraharsis razed? Sacked? Or did its engineers somehow find a way to bury it, to hide its secrets from the rest of the world?

  You hop up into the pool itself, which is filled with a fine sand. A preliminary search reveals a colorful mosaic on the bottom, made up of thousands of tiles. You motion Waif over. "Help me with this."

  Together you work to uncover the picturesque artwork that graces the bottom of the once-beautiful pool. When you've scattered most of the sand to the far corners, the image of a woman is revealed. She's garbed in a starkly-colored dress of alternating red and black, and menaced by a snarling dog. The woman is running in the opposite direction.

  "Nothing else in here," Waif sighs. He swipes an arm across his forehead and it comes back slick and glistening. "Should we keep moving?"

  Keep moving. HEAD ON DOWN TO PAGE 145

  98

  "Might as well check out everything," you tell Waif. "Just... be careful."

  Waif steps forward and prods the sacks with his foot... which turns out to be the worst possible choice. The pile crumbles to dust at his touch, and hundreds of spiders begin pouring forth.

  "Aaaaaa!!!!" he screams. It's hard to see anything with Waif swinging the torch back and forth. "Get them off of me!"

  You rush forward to help him beat the spiders from his leg. But they're on his arms now, too. Waif strikes at them with the torch, singing all the hair from his forearms and burning himself in the process. The spiders themselves go up in waves of flame, like tiny pieces of dried paper.

  "Stop moving! Stop struggling!" you tell him. But he can't. Waif falls backward into the pile where even more of the arachnids swarm over him. He drops the torch...

  You need to do something quick!

  Do you use the torch to get the rest of the spiders off your friend? If so, TURN TO PAGE 83

  Or do you grab the torch and use it on the spiders' nest? If that's your move GO TO PAGE 130

  99

  You look up at the crown. It's the only symbol that's not an animal. It's also the only symbol that's regal.

  The Hall of Kings...

  "It's gotta be the crown," you tell Waif. "Come on, let's go!"

  Waif follows dutifully. The only hint of skepticism on his part is a small backward glance as you make your way through the shadowy exit.

  Almost immediately things change. The floor is polished. The walls take on a more finished feel. Everything seems nicer, more beautifully designed. Then the hall opens into another chamber, this time a throne room!

  "This is it!" you cry. "The Hall of Kings!"

  You stop, the smile fading from your face. Something is wrong. There's something soft, almost spongy beneath your feet. Waif swings his torch low, and that's when you realize you're standing in a mushroom patch.

  "What the--"

  Your feet are stuck. These aren't like any mushrooms you've ever seen. The strange grey fungus is everywhere, all dry and powdery. It covers the walls, the floor, the ancient throne itself. You're able to pull your feet free, but every movement sends up clouds of powder. It gets in your eyes, your nose, your mouth...

  "Spores..." Waif chokes. "Stop moving. They're... the spores..."

  All of a sudden you're very, very tired. Your legs weigh a thousand pounds each. Your arms hang like tree trunks at your sides. You open your mouth to say something but all you can manage is a bone-cracking yawn. You look over at Waif and he's already laid down, right in the middle of the mushrooms.

  "Waif..." Your voice is slurred and far away. "We... cant... we have to..."

  Now your eyelids are heavy too. They droop closed, and a wonderful sense of peace steals over you. Maybe you just need to sit down and rest a minute. Or maybe, just maybe, this is

  THE END

  100

  "I don't know which blocks go where," you say forlornly. "And I'm afraid of trying the wrong ones. Knowing the engineers that built this city, who knows what would happen?"

  Waif has no choice but to agree. Together you turn to face the marble column.

  You really think you can climb that thing?"

  "Guess we'll find out," Waif says.

  He starts up it, and at first things seem okay. Waif's fingers find cracks you can't even see with your own eyes. His feet find tiny toeholds. Slowly but surely, he makes his way upward. But then, for seemingly no reason, he stops.

  "Hang on..." Waif says. His voice seems shaky.

  "What is it?"

  "Is the column moving?"

  You look down. Sure enough, the entire column is rotating. Waif is being pulled away from you, clockwise, with the grinding of stone on stone. Abruptly the cylinder lurches downward. Sinks another ten or fifteen feet.

  "Jump!" you tell him. "Get down! Now!"

  BOOM!

  Something deep inside the tower shifts. Or maybe it collapses. There's a hollow, rumbling sound followed by what sounds like it could be rushing water. And then...

  Everything falls away. Waif, the column, the emerald -- the whole world is a mass of whirling, falling stone as the entire Queen's Tower comes apart from the bottom up. You don't cry out. You don't even have time. All you have is one last perfect view of Atraharsis as you cartwheel downward through the morning sky.

  For you, as well as for Waif, this is regrettably

  THE END

  101

  You don't know who this person is, but assaulting them from behind just doesn't seem right.

  "Hey!" you call out. "You!"

  The figure doesn't react. He doesn't move. You wait another few seconds, then step out into the street from behind the safety of the broken column.

  "How did you get--"

  The sentence falls back down your throat. Waif, for some reason, is suddenly laughing. "Look!" he points.

  Off to the side, the statue of a man stands on a sand-strewn pedestal. He's holding a staff in one hand and a set of scrolls in the other. It's then you realize the figure leaning against the pillar isn't a man at all. It's nothing more than a shadow, made tall by the morning sun.

  "Should we get him?" Waif jeers. "Or should we let him go?"

  There's nothing you can do but chuckle yourself. The laughter actually feels good. It breaks the tension. Warmth begins spreading over you as the sun climbs into the sky.

  A brief search of the fire pit turns up nothing but rubble, refuse, and a few petrified, gnawed-upon bones.

  "We should get going," Waif says. "The day is escaping us."

  Two wide, identical avenues stretch away from the fire pit in new directions.

  If you take the road to the east, JUMP TO PAGE 103

  If you take the road to the west, GO TO PAGE 124

  102

  You continue beyond the Oasis into another even larger area. Here your surroundings become less streets and avenues and more of a mass of toppled structures, all of them in varying stages of decay. The wind howls through the broken stone of hollowed out homes. As it rises and falls, it creates a creepy wailing sound.

  "This looks like the Ruins," you say, "from Murdoch's map."

  Many of the buildings around you are massive, or at least were massive when they were first constructed. It's obvious they were once very beautiful. Worn cobbles beneath your feet poke through in many places here. Thinking about the people who walked on it -- more than four and a half thousand years ago -- leaves you with a sense of awe.

  "Donovan! Wait!"

  Waif's warning comes too late as you round the next corner. A pack of what appear to be wild dogs is patrolling the street. One raises its nose and sniffs the air. It sees you, and they all come running.

  "Waif! The dogs--"

  "Not dogs, jackals," Waif says. He's holding his torch out before him in a defensive posture. "They'll be on us in seconds! What should we do?"

  There still might be time
to run. If you want to find out, HEAD TO PAGE 57

  You could also try to make a stand. If that's your choice, GO TO PAGE 11

  Or maybe you could hide in one of the buildings. If you'd like to try, TURN TO PAGE 87

  103

  The avenue you travel is long and wide and filled with sand. Some piles are even taller than you are, and as you make your way among them you notice yourself walking on a definite tilt. It's almost as if the road beneath your feet slopes downward. With all the sand it's impossible to tell.

  All of a sudden Waif stops and points with an outstretched arm. "There is the temple on your map."

  He's right. The dome is cracked and most of the arched entrances have long since fallen over, but the resemblance is unmistakable: you're standing before the Temple of Luus'. And within its walls, if Murdoch's map is right... one of the fabled star jewels.

  "Who is Luus'?" Waif asks.

  "I was hoping you'd know."

  Your friend shrugs and shakes his head. "The people of Atraharsis had many gods. Many temples. They worshiped a variety of--"

  Waif stops because you've already left him in the street. Passing beneath one of the unbroken archways, you make your way into the temple's once-sacred inner halls. There's a lot less sand inside. The floors are smooth, and painted murals decorate the walls. Although faded with age, you can make out a few scenes depicting the people who once lived here. Most of the settings are outdoors. The people kneel prostrate before the temple, all heads turned to the sky.

  "Sun worshipers?" you ask.

  "Could be," Waif says. "Could be anything else, too."

  The halls get more decorated and beautiful as you continue through them. Then, as you get nearer the temple's inner chambers, a room up ahead seems bathed in a glowing blue light.

  "The star sapphire!" you exclaim. "Come on!"

  Did you really find it? Find out by TURNING TO PAGE 129

  104

  You wind back, take a running start, and then at the last minute, jump...

  Waif is there to catch you on the other side, absorbing your momentum. You spin around and look back. Not only did you cross the gap, you made it easily.

  "See?" Waif says. "Told you."

  You can't help but smile. It's good to have a partner you can trust. Even better, you're pretty sure Waif feels the same way.

  Nice job. When you're done patting yourself on the back, TURN TO PAGE 21

  105

  A dozen large avenues feed into what was unmistakably some kind of central bazaar. This was obviously a place of great trade. Everywhere you look you see ancient stones set among petrified timbers -- all that remains of the colorful booths that once made up a huge inner city of tents and stalls.

  "We've passed a lot of statues," you say. "But none of warriors or generals. I've seen no swords, no spears..."

  "That's because Atraharsis was a city of enlightenment and wisdom," Waif says. "The people here valued knowledge above everything else, even gold and gems."

  You wrinkle your nose in distaste. "Let's hope not. Or I came all this way for nothing."

  Searching the area thoroughly would take months, even years, so all you can do is a cursory job. Together you find little that isn't buried beneath tons of sand and rubble. You pick up an ancient bowl, intact and valuable. Also amongst your treasures you count a polished onyx statue of a woman petting a cat. When you look over at Waif however, he's bent over a jug he recently unsealed. Your friend is eagerly scooping fistfuls of pink and white rock salt into his pack.

  You can't help but laugh. "Waif, why?"

  "You can always use salt!" he tells you simply.

  "Yeah, but salt that's thousands of years old?" You still don't get it. "After all this time, wouldn't--"

  Without warning the ground breaks open before you. Only this isn't an earthquake, or a tremor. This is something entirely different.

  "Ants!"

  106

  107

  Dozens of angry-looking insects begin spilling from the torn ground. They're the biggest ants you've ever seen.

  "Red desert ants!" Waif shouts. "All these tremors must have disturbed their colony!"

  The ants advance toward you, their antennae quivering in the air. You can see their mandibles opening and closing. They look sharp and incredibly painful.

  Through sheer bad luck your back happens to be up against one of the larger structures in Atraharsis's central bazaar. There might be time to flee, or you can choose to fight the ants off using the flames of Waif's torch.

  The ants number in the hundreds now, and they're still pouring from the ground. Whatever you choose, you'd better do it fast!

  If you think you can stand your ground, try fighting the ants off by TURNING TO PAGE 140

  If you'd rather take your chances and run, you'll need to roll two dice (or just pick a random number from 2 to 12)

  If the total of your roll is a 3, 5, 7, or 9 SEE IF YOU MAKE IT ON PAGE 88

  If you roll anything other than those numbers, CHECK OUT WHAT HAPPENS ON PAGE 150

  108

  "Waif!" You move to push your friend out of the way, but not before the spider sinks its fangs into his neck.

  Waif screams. You reach for his torch, but he's flailing too hard. Eventually he drops it, the torch instantly going out in a large pile of sand. As Waif falls, clutching his neck, the spider turns to face you.

  You reach back into your rucksack and your fingers close over your camping hatchet. Unfortunately, this time it's stuck. As hard as you pull, it just won't come free. In the meantime, Waif is moaning as his body fights whatever toxin the spider just injected into him. You glance back and the creature is almost on you.

  At the last second you kick it. The crunch of its body is oddly satisfying, even through the fear. But joy turns to terror as you watch the spider's underbelly break ripely open. Hundreds of smaller spiders come pouring from their mother's body, swarming in your direction. And they're not happy.

  What's worse than a venomous spider bite? A hundred spider bites.

  Sorry to say it, but this is

  THE END

  109

  "Well we're already here," you tell Waif. "Might as well make our way straight inside."

  You advance forward and find yourself feeling very small. Nothing remains of the great gates to the city. The walls are broken, shattered piles of stone that yawn inward where mounds of sand and rubble make up all new avenues of Atraharsis. Off in the distance, strange cracking sounds come from an unknown origin. It could be the wind. It could be your imagination. The entire thing is very, very eerie.

  Waif pulls a long torch from his own pack and lights it. The flames feel good as they drive some of the morning chill from the air.

  "Where does your grandfather's journal say to go next?" Waif asks.

  "Grand-uncle," you correct him. "Besides, it wasn't originally his journal. It belonged to a man named Murdoch. He was here over a hundred years ago."

  The map is nondescript here, and this portion of the journal doesn't offer much guidance.

  "There's the main courtyard," you say. "Let's start there."

  Head over the Courtyard by FLIPPING BACK TO PAGE 78

  110

  The rats are swarming, they'll be on you in seconds. There's no way you're staying put! You whirl around and run full tilt down the pitch black hallway. Anything's better than being gnawed on by a hundred rats. In the tunnel at least, you'll have some protection. Maybe. You hope...

  WHAM!

  You wake staring up into a blinding white light. Is this the afterlife? You're not entire sure. For several moments you can't remember anything beyond your own name. And then...

  Oh yeah! The rats!

  You bolt upright, feverishly slapping at every part of your body. You're relieved to find no rats in sight. Gradually your eyesight returns and a man fades into your vision. It's Waif!

  "I told you not to move," he admonishes you.

  "What happened?"

>   "You ran full speed into a wall. Or at least I think it was a wall. It was too hard to tell down there. Too dark."

  Your hand goes to your head. There's a nasty, painful bump, but when you pull your palm away it comes back clean. No blood. That's good, at least.

  "But... How'd you get me out?"

  "The rats wouldn't come near my torch," Waif explains. "Plus, I have this." He pats a thick coil of rope. "Next time listen to me. Are you okay to walk?"

  You nod and Waif helps you up. After drinking half your canteen you promptly upend some of it over your head. Waif frowns at the waste of good water, but by all accounts it was a necessary thing. You feel seventy-five percent better. Maybe eighty.

  Better get moving. The star jewels aren't going to find themselves, right?

  HEAD BACK TO PAGE 13

  111

  At long last you stand before the Queen's Tower. It's been impressive all morning from a distance, but up close the structure takes on all new levels of beauty and wonder.

  Smooth white stone of an unknown origin winds its way high into the desert sky. The tower itself looks almost like the queen on a chessboard. Its curved hourglass shape flares out near the top, forming what resembles a green-jeweled crown.