by James Gough
A table of large, angry caribou enchants stood up and moved Will’s direction, wielding oversized forks.
“Outside sounds good. Let’s go.” Will hurried behind Rizz. The caribou enchants kept coming. Rizz hit a button on the wall with his elbow and the heavy doors swung open. Will rushed out and was met by a warm, fresh breeze, washing him in the scent of pine trees and flowers.
It was paradise. Natural stone terraces lined the sides of an enormous horseshoe canyon. Each grass-covered balcony had a table and was connected to other balconies by narrow steps and bridges. Thirty private dining areas clung to the steep walls. Small springs flowed from the cliff face, launching into waterfalls that fell into crystal pools three hundred feet below. Will was stunned. Dark ponderosas and thick vegetation balanced above and below him on the walls, all of them reaching for the brilliant blue morning sky. If it weren’t for the pine trees and the mountain plains visible in the distance, he would have thought he was standing in a vast tropical grotto.
There was a snort behind Will and one of the caribou enchants slammed the door.
“Come on, kid.” Rizz strolled beneath a stone ledge and under a waterfall.
“It’s so warm.”
“It’s the hot springs. Feel.” Rizz reached out his cloven hand and let the water spray off the tips of his hooves.
Will did the same. It was the perfect temperature for a warm shower.
Rizz chose a secluded table on the highest cliff. There were no railings, nothing to separate them from the sheer drop to the valley below. On the other balconies, only a few tables were occupied. There was a family of goats eating with a young enchant in a wheelchair. A couple of llama enchant doctors were having coffee.
“Not too many people out here.” Will scooted his chair away from the edge.
“That’s why I like it. The height scares off the faint of heart and makes it more private. Plus, it’s hard to beat the view.” Rizz stuffed a fork full of herb-covered tofu into his cheek. He held up his hand and swallowed. “Hold on.” He produced the pack of mints and tapped it twice. “You can never be too private.” He leaned back and eyed Will’s tray. “Did you eat like this at home?”
Will grinned, picked up the muffin, and crammed it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and chewed. The buckwheat made it kind of gritty, but he didn’t care. Even grit was a new experience. All of it was amazing. Sour, sweet, bitter, salty—every taste expanded his palette. Some things like the mushrooms inside the donut didn’t appeal at all. Others, like the orange soda and the tater-tots, were beyond words.
Rizz watched Will decimate the contents of his tray. Soon nothing remained but crumbs and dishes. Will fixed his eyes on the éclair sitting on Rizz’s tray. “Go ahead. We wouldn’t want you to starve.”
Twenty seconds later the éclair was gone. Will leaned back in his seat with a look of complete satisfaction.
“I’m guessing you enjoyed it.”
To Will’s surprise, a small burp escaped his throat.
“Nice, but next time put a little more power behind it.” Rizz let loose a belch that echoed off the canyon walls.
“Wow.” Will gripped the table to steady himself.
“So you obviously like the food.” Rizz piled the remnants of the meal onto a tray. “Ready to see the rest of St. Grimm’s?”
Will’s good mood faded, and he dropped his chin.
Rizz stopped cleaning up. “Well, there’s an extreme lack of enthusiasm if I ever saw one. What? Not up for a tour?”
Will shrugged. “It’s not that, I just…”
“Just what?”
He picked at his glove. “It’s the gerbil stink. I don’t like it.”
“But I thought the smell didn’t bother you?”
“It’s not the smell, it’s the reactions.” Will gestured toward the cafeteria.
“Oh.”
Will poked at some crumbs with his fork. “I know it was for my protection when I was traveling and all, but now that I’m here, why do I keep having to hide? I just don’t like people thinking I stink.”
“Enchants, Will,” corrected Rizz.
“Huh?”
“Enchants, not people. There’s a difference. A big one. Your cover doesn’t just hide you, it also protects you from enchants.”
“But you’re an enchant, and Special Branch, and Dr. Noctua.”
“True. Although it’s not as easy for us to be around a Nep human as you might think.”
“What do you mean? Isn’t every enchant part human?”
“Yeah, but they are also part animal; and that means instincts.” Rizz sat back. “Every enchant battles his or her instincts every second of every day. When a lion enchant sees me or you, his gut tells him we’re prey—that he should lunge. But he fights it. His human side keeps him from attacking people. It’s not easy. Some of us have stronger animal traits than others; but as a society, we manage to keep it together enough to live side by side. Most of the time.”
Will thought he’d found a loophole. “But if the human part is what makes enchants not follow instincts, I should be fine without the gerbil cover, right?”
“Yeah, but you gotta realize that enchants can’t always rein in those instincts. Sometimes they’re too strong. Have there ever been times when you’ve wanted to hit somebody for being stupid, but you fought it ’cause you knew it was wrong?”
Will thought of Nurse Grundel and nodded.
“Now, try to imagine if your first instinct was to bite someone’s jugular or bash somebody in the skull—and those impulses almost block out any other thought? Couple that with speed or claws, talons or teeth, and you can see why it’s important to have natural defenses to protect yourself. For enchants, those defenses come along with the animal traits.” Rizz tapped his silver capped-horn. “Without some sort of natural security system, living in an enchant community for an extended length of time would be…ah…unhealthy.”
“But what about you and the protection team?” Will folded his arms. “Is this stupid stink keeping me safe from you guys, too?”
“Special Branch agents have to go through an intensive testing process to be able to be around Neps. It helps that me and Manning are herbivores. Flores is an insectivore, so unless you have six legs, no worries. And believe it or not, Das is the most controlled carnivore I’ve ever seen.”
Will rubbed his shoulder where he still had the bruises from when he first met Kaya. “She’s controlled?”
“For a carnie, she’s a rock. The only time she’s dangerous is if you make her mad. Her more base impulses are buried deep. But she was strong even before she joined Special Branch. What she did in the Everglades was incredible. Noctua was so impressed by her actions that he recruited her as team leader of Special Branch. But what really caught his attention was her restraint.”
“Restraint? She said she put that prisoner in the infirmary.”
“Yeah, but what she didn’t mention was that the reptilian jerk was three times her size and striking with venom. Any other agent would have ended him for what he tried to do and claimed self-defense. But she didn’t. The rest of ISPA thought her restraint was a sign of weakness. Enchant law is based on eye for an eye, fang for a fang. But Noctua and Special Branch didn’t see weakness. For an enchant, mercy in that situation is rare, especially for someone with her animal side.”
“Is it harder for cats or something?”
“She’s not part cat, kid. She’s part Bengal tiger. Having her as a protector is about the best you can do. She’s even better than me, and that’s saying something.” Rizz popped a piece of tofu in his mouth.
“But, if you guys are the best—” started Will.
“If?”
“Okay, since you’re the best, why do I have to reek?”
“Kid, you know there’s at least one hunter out there.”
Two ghostly white eyes flashed briefly in Will’s mind, and he nodded.
“I doubt if wolfy would get anywhere near St. Grimm’s, and it
’s not like we’re expecting any enchants to jump you or anything. We just don’t want to take any chances until you are prepared. You’ll learn how to hold your own one of these days. But until you’re ready, you’re gonna have to stink. Sorry.”
“But how do you know when I’m ready?”
“We’ll know when you know.”
“Great.” Will frowned.
“You know. Not all enchants are bugged by your gerbil musk. It didn’t seem to bother Mars that much.”
Will shot Rizz a crusty look.
“I bet there are plenty of other enchants around here that you don’t utterly repulse.”
“Ha, ha.”
“Hey, I’m serious.” Rizz leaned closer. “But before we try to find them, why don’t you get more familiar with your new surroundings. You know, in case you run into an enchant who wants to eat you. It would be good to have an escape route.” Rizz wiped his mouth with a hoof-like thumb.
“Very funny.” He hoped Rizz was kidding.
16
The Tour
“And to your left, you’ll see the first habitat chamber constructed inside the mountain. It was known as the Hall of Schwarzwald, which is German for blaaack forest,” bleated Judy, the sheep-woman tour guide. She pointed toward a cavern full of dense pine that looked like something out of a dark fairytale. “If you look at the roof of the chamber, you can see some of the original paint the settlers used to create the illusion of sky. Today, St. Grimm’s chambers are capped with translucent crystal that allows sunlight to penetrate the mountain.”
A battery of flashes lit the ceiling as spinal-horned tourists snapped shots of the faded blue patch of paint. Will and Rizz stayed back to avoid being blinded by the cameras. So far the visiting group of gazelle enchants had taken pictures of everything; the entrance, the tour guide, the lobby, each other.
The constant strobe of flashes made little stars dance in front of Will’s eyes, but at least the focus wasn’t on his gerbil smell.
“You’ll notice that the first inhabitants of the mountain lived in rather modest accommodations. The room to your left was the size of a typical family dwelling.” Judy showed a sappy smile and walked backward down the corridor. “We’re walking. We’re walking.”
Bulbs flashed as Will and Rizz crouched to peer into the hole. Mannequins of ten squirrel enchants in historic clothing were packed shoulder to shoulder in the tiny domed room.
“Cozy,” smirked Rizz.
Judy led the tour into a broad circular corridor that stretched in either direction like an underground racetrack. From one direction, a scalding wave of heat hit the group. From the other side, a biting cold wind slammed into them. The guide stepped next to a large stone block full of holes and surrounded by shackles. The extreme temperatures on both sides of his body made Will want to spin so that he didn’t freeze one half and fry the other. Many in the group began to spin and become agitated.
“You have now entered the inner circle, a half mile ring that surrounds the core of the mountain. The settlers chose this location because of the mountain’s Yellowstone-like thermal anomalies. As you can see, the temperatures can be dramatically different. The spot where we now stand is known as the ‘Dizzy Zone,’ since there is a natural tendency to spin in order to keep an equal temperature.”
Judy rested her fuzzy hand on the stone block. “Early settlers called this the Justice Rock. It was used as punishment, holding a prisoner in place and letting the heat and cold attack from both sides. It would cause heatstroke and frostbite at the same time.” She flashed a smile. “A pretty good deterrent for petty crimes, don’t you think?”
A nervous laugh tittered through the group. Cameras flashed. The spindle-horned tourists posed with their heads through the holes in the Justice Rock.
“Moving on. The heat and humidity in the tropical chambers were all created naturally using geysers and hot vents, while the frigid environments use the mountain’s natural insulation to contain the cold of glaciers harvested each winter from the mountain’s peak. That’s what gives the Silent Sanctuary the ability to duplicate any environment on earth.” The guide walked backward, leading the group toward the warmer side of the circle.
“Excuse me?” Will poked his hand in the air.
“Yes, a question?”
“What’s the Silent Sanctuary?”
The entire group skidded to a halt and spun on Will like he had just asked why the world was flat. The tour guide’s smile faltered for a split second.
“He’s from out of town,” Rizz apologized.
Judy blinked twice and pasted a smile back on her face. “Well, as we all learned in school, Silent Sanctuary is the original name of St. Grimm’s before it became a hospital. Does anyone know why it was called the Silent Sanctuary?”
A plump little girl with pink ribbons tied around her donkey ears raised her hand. “Because no sound ever escapes the mountain.” She flashed a know-it-all smile at Will.
“That is a true fact, but it is also a common misconception about its name. Silent Sanctuary actually came from the way it was constructed, by thousands of ant enchants working in total silence. Even though their insect DNA gave the ant enchants incredible strength and savant-like mastery of engineering, it also robbed them of their ability to speak. Without a single word or sound, it only took a year for the mute workers to hollow out the mountain, dig the subterranean caverns, and engineer the dams and waterways that make up St. Grimm’s. They improved on the greatest architecture of the Nep and animal worlds. The result was the perfect balance—architectural harmony.” Judy motioned to the intricate columns and arches that lined the walls of the inner circle.
“Ants built St. Grimm’s?” asked the little girl.
“Yes, ants,” replied the tour guide. “But you would know them by another name—the Builders.”
Everyone flinched and looked at the ceiling.
“Don’t worry. You won’t see any Builders here today. Their movements inside St. Grimm’s have been restricted for several years. They are not allowed to have any contact with enchants by decree of the Council of Wik. Trust me, you are perfectly safe.” The tour guide patted the donkey-girl’s hair.
Will raised his hand again. “So this whole mountain is like a giant anthill?”
This time the guide didn’t hide her annoyance. “No, it is most certainly not like an anthill. The Builders’ designs are ingenious. Interconnecting tunnels follow the grain of the mountain. They become lined with arched windows when the hallways get close to the surface. The workmanship is impeccable, and everything has its place.”
“Kind of like an anthill,” muttered Will.
The sheep enchant guide pretended not to have heard the comment and put on a smile that looked painful. “Moving on. We’re walking, we’re walking.”
The tour went on for another hour, taking the herd of tourists past fifteen more habitat chambers around the inner circle. There was a Serengeti chamber where a group of giraffe-women in sweat suits were jogging around a watering hole while a doctor monitored their heart rates. In the Mojave cavern, a bandaged jackrabbit enchant in shades and an IV bag was sunning himself on a rock. And in a Galapagos Island recreation spa, a family of iguana enchants were helping a nurse lower their son into a bubbling mud pot.
“As you can see, these chambers are still in use, but today they help heal patients in a more comfortable setting. Now if you’ll follow me to the Gathering Hall, we’ll see the largest dome ever carved from solid stone.” Judy stopped in front of a towering door made of weathered wood and held together by iron bands. It was like the door of an old Spanish mission, but much larger.
There was a faint sound of banging and sawing behind the door. Judy reached up and lifted the giant latch. As large as it was, the door moved at her touch. The noises behind it ceased.
“Welcome to the Gathering Hall.”
Cameras again went wild, capturing a colossal stone dome as it curved skyward. Immense columns held up rows of ba
lconies that lined the inside of the dome like Saturn’s rings. In the center of the expanse, a circular platform rose from the floor. Above it, hundreds of glowing globes hung from the ceiling, lighting the dome.
“Three hundred and seventy-six thousand,” announced Judy, her voice echoing off the walls. “That’s how many enchants the Gathering Hall can hold. Give or take a few thousand.”
Will had never imagined so many seats in his life. It was like an ocean of red velvet sweeping upward until it disappeared under one balcony after another. Opera boxes had been carved in the stone columns. There was scaffolding above the highest balcony where another section of seats was being constructed.
“You’ll have to excuse the mess.” Judy motioned to the partially finished seats. “We are getting ready for the Bicentennial Sanctuary Day celebration in two weeks. May 6th will commemorate the 200th anniversary of the first settlers arriving at the Silent Sanctuary. It should be quite the celebration. The entire mountain will be open to the public for two days. If you don’t have your Gathering Hall tickets already, I’m afraid it’s too late. As you can see, we’re expecting a record full-house. And now if you’ll kindly follow me, we’ll walk through the Hall to the museum.”
The group was guided down long sloping aisles and under balconies. They descended spiraling ramps, crossed a stone walkway, wound around the center platform, then hiked back up the other side of the Gathering Hall. Finally they made their way to a huge museum of historical displays tucked away behind a row of pillars.
Bizarre artifacts lined the glass cases. A Civil War uniform large enough for an elephant was displayed next to a set of silverware that could fit on Will’s thumb. There were old tools, weapons and furniture displayed everywhere.
Will moved to a giant model of St. Grimm’s mountain on a raised platform. “Cool.”
A cross section had been removed. Will could see how the tunnels and chambers intersected. It did look just like an anthill. He leaned closer. Tiny models of enchants were posed in various positions. A group of them were shown burrowing a new tunnel. They had six legs and black thoraxes like an ant, but their upper bodies were human-like, except for their heads, which were bald with little mandibles and antennae.