A hush fell over the crowd as Charon docked the ferry against a marble pier. Waterfalls vanished soundlessly into the mist before reaching the waters below. Icy fingers crept down Eva’s spine. The stillness was unnatural. Not even birdsong disturbed the silence.
The well-dressed man stepped off the ferry, his voice ringing clear. “Come. Even now these… people… hang back.”
One by one, the people shuffled off the ferry toward a magnificent archway formed from a single iridescent pearl.
This was not the sort of place Apollyon would have brought Perry. Still, it was the only way. And perhaps it led deeper.
She passed through the arch and into streets of marble winding between stately mansions overlaid with gold ornamentation that put the estates of Carnal-Policy to shame. And yet, up close, the city no longer seemed magnificent. Only gaudy.
At the center of the square towered a statue similar to the one in the City of Destruction. But unlike Apollyon’s copper monument, this one was forged from solid gold.
Even at its exaggerated proportions, it was clearly the image of a massive man—both in stature and girth. He leaned forward with a hunch in his neck and shoulders, one hand extended.
Several of the passengers gasped, and one turned away in disgust. The well-dressed man looked on with unbridled admiration.
“Now there’s a man who’s not afraid to reach out and grasp what he wants!”
At the foot of the statue reclined women adorned with gold collars and silver chains. Two clung to each of its legs. A third lounged among cushions gathered around the base, slender and beautiful in dazzling garments.
“Oh dear-heart,” Eva exclaimed. Then her gaze followed the chains. They led to the statue yet were attached to nothing.
The woman shot Eva a look of contempt, the haughtiness in her face diminishing her beauty.
Eva did not know exactly where she was. But this was no Paradise. Relief mingled strangely with her disgust.
The well-dressed man’s face bore the same blank expression that had become so familiar to Eva.
“This is truly Paradise,” he murmured.
Eva shook her head, turned, and continued down the street, leaving the well-dressed man behind. From the ferry, she had glimpsed a lower basin beyond the city walls. That had to be the way to Perry.
At the end of the road stood a library with pillars rising stories high and alcoves filled with statues of Olympians. They had been painted in such exquisite detail that they almost seemed alive.
What was this place? If she could answer that question, perhaps she could understand the path forward.
People passed carrying great sacks over their shoulders, groaning beneath the weight as they moved in and out through a gate to her left. The sounds of argument and haggling drifted toward her. Eva peered through the gate.
It was no mere marketplace, but a vast bazaar filled with unspeakable wonders. Booths of marble, limestone, and alabaster displayed jewels of every kind, alongside sacks spilling over with gold, silver, and copper coins.
“My soul is worth far more than that!” one shouted.
“Do you know who I am?” demanded another.
Across the bazaar, the well-dressed man stood in animated conversation with a vendor. He drew a deed from his coat and laid it carefully before him.
“Yes, indeed, you have been diligent,” the vendor said, his voice carrying above the din. “This will fetch a very handsome price. You are guaranteed the finest position. And the finest view.”
No. This was not the way. Perry would not be here. She turned and headed up the street climbing a gentle rise. It too was paved in marble.
On her left stood a bathhouse, its entry flanked by statues supporting the balcony above.
Movement caught her eye. These were no statues. Men stood shirtless beneath the balcony, bearing the weight of the building on their backs. One man’s knees trembled. A thin trickle of blood ran down another’s chest.
“Are you trapped?” Eva asked.
“Of course not,” the man replied, sweat trickling down his face with the effort of speaking. He moaned softly.
“Just let it go,” Eva whispered.
The man’s expression hardened.
A grand stairway climbed toward the higher levels. Perhaps from there she could get a better view. It was impossible to find her bearings among the towering buildings. And there was no Bear above her. No Hunter at her back.
As she ascended, she passed terraces lined with benches and tables. A man counted and recounted a sack of gold coins. A woman held a diamond aloft, mesmerized by its beauty. Eva paid them no mind.
At the top of the stairs stood a temple like those Eva had seen in paintings of Athens. Across the entrance, bold letters of gold proclaimed: MAMMON.
Conspicuously, the corner pillar was missing, the surrounding nooks unfilled. Below, the city spread in all its splendor—endless edifices of marble and gold. From the balcony, Eva could see beyond the city walls into the lower basins. Trees with soft pink blossoms swayed in the breeze. Gardens and vineyards formed a patchwork across the land.
A reddish glow lit the distant horizon. Smoke billowed upward into the underground sky. Fire and smoke? That had to be the right direction. Eva traced the shape of the ceiling with her finger, committing it to memory. She would follow that.
At the top of the stairs, Eva encountered the well-dressed man again. Another man followed behind him, also elegantly dressed, though of obviously lesser station, carrying a heavy sack at his shoulder.
“You see, my lord? The very best a soul can buy.”
The well-dressed man strode toward the temple with purpose and stopped beside the missing pillar, while the other man set the burden at his feet. One by one, he removed objects of great value and placed them carefully within the empty nooks. A jewel-encrusted chalice. A golden figurine. Slowly he emptied his treasures.
A giant lumbered into view at the top of the stairs, similar to the one Eva had encountered near the Abyss. Eva’s hand drifted to her daggers. But there was no sign of hostility. Cradled in the giant’s arms was an enormous pillar base forged from solid gold. With a grunt and a heavy thud, he set it into place at the corner.
The well-dressed man reached into his sack, withdrew a silver chain, and pressed it into Eva’s hands. For a moment, something seemed to return to his eyes. Eva turned the chain uneasily between her fingers.
“Ah, Paradise,” he sighed. The blank stare returned.
The giant lifted the support beam holding the roof aloft, and the well-dressed man stepped onto the golden base.
“Wake up, man!” Eva snapped.
He did not respond. His eyes fixed across the city on an unhindered view of the idol of Mammon. She wanted to slap him. Anything to snap him out of it. But she knew it would do no good.
He raised his arms above him. Strain crossed his face as the giant released the weight. The well-dressed man stiffened and groaned.
Eva turned away and lowered her head. When she looked up again, she saw it for the first time. A man supporting another building. A woman in yet another. A spire upheld by a dozen people. A coliseum with tier upon tier of living souls.
Every building had one. Some had many. Men and women alike. Thousands of lost souls. No. Millions.
This was a city built from the damned. Eva dropped the necklace and fled in horror.
