Gold Most Curious

By H. L. Davis

An ocean of color floods Damien’s eyes as he steps out of the portal. A blinding array of purple, yellow, blue, and white blooms. He frowns.

Irises? Not what he expected. But little about this search has gone according to plan.

Jerking up his binoculars, Damien surveys the land beyond the field of flowers. There! At the top of a distant hill, something gleams in the sunlight.

Damien races toward it, giving his coat a quick pat to make sure his map is still hidden in the pocket. He laughs as he remembers the London billionaire heist two months ago. How he’d stubbornly refused to leave until he got that last safe open.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” his partners in crime had hissed.

“Cats also have nine lives.” Damien smirked when the safe door swung open. It contained gold, heirlooms, and a map—a map much older than any he had ever come across.

That Greek language expert was thrilled when Damien showed him the ancient document. “Rainbow’s End,” he’d said, was the title’s closest translation. Followed by the phrase: “Gold for the curious.”

“Sounds like my kind of map.” Damien tossed a stack of bills on the table and took the first flight to Greece.

Now Damien stops at the base of the hill, panting and looking behind him. The doorway through which he’d entered still glows in the trees, quietly waiting for him to return. He grins and darts up the hill.

At the top, he skids to a halt.

Before him stands a woman fashioned entirely of gold. Sculpted lines form a tunic around her, etch her face in beauty, and reveal a small, unadorned box clutched in her hands. A marble base supports her shining frame, bearing an inscription matching the map’s title. Damien throws down his pack and smiles, pleased at this twist. “A statue of gold at ‘Rainbow’s End.’ How wrong those Irish have it.” Pulling out his canteen, he takes a swig and examines the statue more closely. It takes only seconds for him to notice what he missed before: the box has a keyhole.

Chuckling, Damien opens his lock-picking kit. “This is too easy!” He takes a step toward the statue. Then stops.

Too easy.

He looks from the box to the statue’s face, to the marble inscription, and back again, shaking his head. “Don’t be an idiot, Damien,” he mutters. “You have plenty of lives left.” Wiping sweaty hands on his pants, he grabs his tools and sets to work.

It takes less than a minute. Click.

Someone is watching him. Damien leaps back, his tools clinking to the ground. The gold is gone. At least, except for the box. The woman, now living and breathing, stares at him with wide eyes.

Damien’s heart threatens to pound out of his chest. “What is this?”  He clenches his hands into fists to hide their trembling.

“You did it.” She sinks to her knees, the golden container still clutched in her hands. “You have set me free.”

Long seconds of silence link themselves together. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Damien climbs upon the marble base and cautiously takes a seat beside her. “Look, can you tell me what’s going on here? Is this some kind of elaborate joke?”

“Joke?” The woman smiles bitterly. “I suppose you could call it that. But not one you will find amusing.”

Damien motions toward the box. “That gold in your hands is no joke. If there’s more where that came from…”

“Your reward will come any moment now.”

Damien studies the face before him—the most exquisite he’s ever seen—searching for any sign of deceit. Finding none, he rubs his temples impatiently, trying to clear his head. “Who are you, anyway?”

“My name is Pandora.”

“Pandora?” Damien leaps to his feet. “The Pandora?”

“Yes, Damien. The Pandora. And this is the box.” She holds it out for him to see. “The one I opened, unleashing pain and misery upon the earth.”

A tingling shoots up and down Damien’s arms and legs as he gapes at the golden container.

“As punishment for my curiosity, the highest of the gods condemned me to a prison of gold. But Iris, goddess of rainbows, pled for me. She had pity, and she believed there was something in the box mankind still needed.”

Pandora stands and approaches him. Damien tries to take a step back, but his feet feel heavy as lead. What the…

“The only one willing to assist Iris was Dolos.” A mirthless laugh escapes her. “Oh, yes, that trickster was delighted to help her hide me here. To concoct a grand plan so that one as cunning as he—and as curious as I—would eventually find and free me, thereby earning his… eternal riches.”

Damien grimaces as a pain shoots up his back, as an inhale sets his lungs on fire. He opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes. Come on, Damien. Do something!

Pandora leans close. “Perhaps Iris was right, and there is something of hope left in this box.” She brushes his cold cheek with her fingertips. “I promise to find out and return for you.” A metallic ringing floods Damien’s ears, moments later fading to stillness. His golden frame frozen, Damien watches in unblinking disbelief as Pandora runs to the portal and vanishes from view. Hushed minutes pass, and his heart sinks.

“Gold for the curious.” More like fool’s gold! Damien, you really are an idiot.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

H. L. Davis is a Christian, wife, and homeschool mom who calls the South home. She first discovered the joys of writing at ten years of age, and it is a craft she is delighted to pursue once again. When she isn’t brainstorming ideas and weaving words into stories, she enjoys reading, graphic design, and quality time with her family and friends.

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