Sanctuary also had trained seamstresses and dressmakers, using a variety of tools and machinery designed and built by its equally talented mechanics, engineers and inventors, such as Archimedes. The tools and machines used here were built and maintained using all natural products, they were not like their human world counterparts: oily, noisy, metallic monstrosities. Writing materials such as paper were produced in a similar fashion to that used by the Ancient Egyptians to produce papyrus: dried water reeds (which grew in abundance in the underground rivers of Sanctuary) cut into thin strips, layered and hammered together. Inks were created from a combination of different plant dyes.
As they walked around the market, Gabriel observed with interest the numerous different shoppers. He saw regal looking winged people, which he guessed must have descended from some species of bird, there were also enormous hairy individuals that even towered over Tolero (he wondered whether any of these were part of the legendary Bigfoot family). There were satyrs, a centaur that was objecting rather loudly to being barred from a pub and a group of very pale individuals with long hair and spindly physiques. Gabriel pondered the possibility of the latter being vampires but thought it rude to ask.
All the while that Gabriel was observing the shoppers, they would in turn stop and stare at him as they passed. Some were even so bold as to approach, shake his hand enthusiastically, introduce themselves and declare it was a joy to have him back. Others, meanwhile, would watch him pass by with a look of undisguised distrust. Gabriel questioned the others as to these mixed feelings toward him, to which Sattan and Seth declared they hadn’t noticed in the slightest. Tolero began coughing as though he had something caught in his throat that he could not dislodge, whereas Tamera cleverly avoided the question by asking, ‘I’m sure you’re wondering what currency we use here?’
His curiosity indeed piqued, and vowing to inquire further about the mixed reactions towards him at a later time, Gabriel said, ‘It had crossed my mind, yes. I’m guessing you don’t use pounds and pence?’
‘No,’ Tamera replied flatly.
‘Dollars?’ Gabriel posed. ‘Euros?’
‘No and no. Although there are some individuals that treasure artefacts from the human world, their money holds little value here. The basic unit of currency used the world over, is the Star. One gold Star is made up of twelve Nuggets. One silver Nugget is comprised of twelve bronze Bytes and one of those is made up of twelve wooden Tassels. Of course some of the less wealthy members of society sometimes trade goods instead of money. But that all depends on the individual vendor.’
‘Why is it all broken down into twelves?’ Gabriel asked.
‘What other unit would you suggest?’ Tamera said.
‘Well, we more often than not use hundreds. One hundred pence makes a pound. One hundred cents makes a dollar and so on.’
‘Great Gaia!’ Tamera exclaimed. ‘Why do humans use such high numbers? Doesn’t it get incredibly complicated?’
‘Not really, it’s what everyone’s used to. Doesn’t it get more complicated dealing with multiples of twelve?’
‘Only if you have trouble counting to twelve.’ Tamera flicked her eyes towards Sattan who was counting up his remaining Tassels and Bytes in order to pay for a helping of roasted acorns (and looking rather bewildered at the same time).
‘What?’ Sattan asked as he caught Tamera looking at him.
‘Nothing,’ she replied, ‘just proving a point.’ She turned back to Gabriel. ‘Surely you know of the importance of the number twelve?’
‘Should I?’
‘The twelve signs of the Zodiac?’ Tamera asked patronizingly. ‘The twelve Gods of Olympus? The twelve animal signs of the Chinese Zodiac? The twelve apostles? Twelve is an incredibly meaningful number. So what better number to use as a basis for our currency?’
Gabriel couldn’t dispute that claim. He remembered when his father had been called up for jury service; he had been one of twelve jurors. The twelve days of Christmas. The twelve months of the year. Clocks worked in cycles of twelve hours. The number even had its own special word set aside: dozen. There definitely did seem to be something special about the number twelve, even in the human world. How peculiar, Gabriel thought, that I’ve never realised it before.
***
After leaving Artisan Plaza, they entered the Theatre of Life. The quintet entered the gigantic arena from the very top tier. Beneath them rows of seating arced round in an enormous horseshoe shape and sloped steeply downwards to a central stage hundreds of feet below. The Theatre of Life was used for numerous different purposes including balls, concerts, performances and public announcements. A hundred feet directly above the stage, jutted out the Elders’ Balcony. This led to the Chamber of the Elders where the Council would entertain foreign dignitaries and deliberate over important matters. It was from the balcony that they would address the crowd assembled far below.
They left the theatre and headed towards the Suburban Caverns. They spiralled down through a series of long narrow passageways, from which numerous brightly lit caves, crevasses and pathways filtered off. As they moved through what Gabriel felt was the deepest part of Sanctuary, they passed by an eerily dark passage which unlike the others, seemed to suck in all the light from the surrounding lanterns like a black hole. The tunnel was rather haphazardly boarded up, with gaps between the gnarled, rotting planks almost large enough for a person to squeeze through. Numerous hand-painted “Warning: Do Not Enter” signs were affixed to the boards and hammered into the ground in front of the dark cave. A stench of dank and decay drifted spookily out from it, polluting the air around them like an acrid smog.
‘What’s down there?’ Gabriel inquired.
His guides fell deadly silent.
‘What?’
‘You must never go down there, Gabriel,’ Tolero said. ‘That is the Forbidden Mine. That’s an evil place that is. I don’t know a great deal about it but it was abandoned centuries ago because of what was discovered down there.’
‘What was discovered down there?’ Gabriel asked. Although even as he spoke, he looked down into the blackness of the passageway and had the sense that he was staring into the depths of Hell itself.
‘Few know exactly,’ Tolero explained, ‘All I know is that whatever it is that resides deep down there is something more horrible and terrifying than any of us can comprehend. It is an evil older than Sanctuary itself. Now let’s move on sharpish. This place always gives me the willies!’
***
The group arrived at the Suburban Caverns, a veritable beehive of smaller dwellings sunken into the walls of the biggest cave yet. The caverns stretched from the very deepest reaches of Sanctuary and were only separated from the surface by several metres of rock at the thinnest parts of the ceiling. It was like the biggest collection of apartment blocks Gabriel had ever seen, only much, much grander, all natural and stretching further than his eyes could see. Innumerable platforms, both naturally forming and Colony-made interwove between different levels and across great open spaces. Massively thick columns soared upwards from the floor to meet the ceiling. Each of them was perforated like a honeycomb with yet more residential dwellings. The entire complex was impossibly bright considering its size and the fact that it was underground. Lanterns littered each and every wall and huge chandelier-like constructs hung nearly a mile above, burning so brightly that light poured out of them and enveloped everything below.
Gabriel was utterly astounded. The Colony were living underground in caves and yet to look at what had been accomplished was absolutely incredible. He had never realised that underground living could be so... luxurious!
A tiny streak of silver and gold flashed suddenly in front of them. Pixell had returned, only now he wasn’t alone. He had brought along another fairy that hovered alongside him.
‘Found you at last!’ he declared. ‘I thought I told you to stay put! We’ve been searching for you for ages! OK, never mind, here you are. Well then, what do you say now?’
>
‘About what?’ Gabriel said.
‘Well I think I’ve successfully proven my point,’ Pixell squeaked triumphantly. ‘This is my wife, Timpani. I think you can clearly see the difference between male and female fairies now. I think you’ll agree that I positively do not look at all like a girl!’
Gabriel glanced over the soft face, the glistening pale skin, the glasslike blue eyes, the delicate tiny body. Apart from the shock of bright red hair and golden wings, he thought Timpani looked almost exactly like her husband.
‘Well there are differences in appearance, I’ll admit...’
‘Such as?’ Pixell asked eagerly.
‘Erm... your wife has different coloured hair and wings to you for starters.’
‘And? And?’
‘Erm...’
‘I don’t believe this!’ Pixell fumed. ‘I DO NOT LOOK FEMININE!’
‘Pixell, give the poor kid a break,’ Timpani cut in, ‘as hard as it is for you to admit, to other species fairies do look very similar to one another. Even I get some of us mixed up from time to time. Now can we kindly go home? I left a pot on the stove and if I don’t get back to it soon, dinner will be ruined.’
‘But... but...’
Ignoring her husband’s complaints, Timpani continued, ‘An absolute pleasure to meet you, Gabriel. I was so sorry to hear what happened to your parents – Tarik and Chione, I mean. Lovely people, they really were. And then to go through another equally devastating tragedy with your adoptive parents. Our hearts are all with you. Now I’m afraid I really must dash, I hope to see you again soon though. Pixell, off we go!’
Dejected, Pixell obediently followed his wife, pausing only briefly to turn and wave before he flew out of sight.
‘I hope he’ll be alright,’ Gabriel said, ‘I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings or anything.’
‘Oh don’t worry about him,’ Seth reassured, ‘he’s just over sensitive, always getting irate at the slightest little thing. He’ll have forgotten all about it by tomorrow when he can’t find his favourite pair of socks or something equally mundane.’
‘Yeah, he does have a real bad temper at times, little person syndrome or something I guess. Anyways, how would you fancy seeing your living quarters then?’ said Tolero.
‘M-m-my quarters?’ Gabriel stammered.
‘Well of course! You didn’t expect to be staying the whole time in the hospital ward did you? Now, it’s not entirely your own quarters, you’ll be staying with Omari for now. You can’t inherit your parents’ apartment until you’re eighteen.’
‘I get my own apartment?’
‘Absolutely! It says so in their will. For a long time you were presumed dead and there were many that wanted to sell it off. But Omari wouldn’t let them. He insisted all these years that you were alive. Well... here we are.’
They had made their way through the Suburban Caverns, zigzagging and crisscrossing their way up and along a maze of suspended walkways. They were now deep in the residential heart of Sanctuary. Hundreds of metres worth of dwellings rose high above them and sunk equally as far below. Upon rising to the rank of Elder, one was given the option of moving to one of the more spacious, penthouse-style caves located closer to the surface. All of the Elder’s caves were equipped with their own library and study areas. They were also situated within close proximity to the Chamber of the Elders. Omari had chosen to remain in his own home, which held special meaning to him as many generations of his family had been raised there. As his home was located very centrally within the huge cave, he also believed that it was the best way to keep in touch with Sanctuary’s civilians. ‘The most effective way to govern people’ Omari was often heard saying, ‘is to live amongst them, not alienated high above them like an omnipotent deity.’
The five new friends arrived outside Omari’s home. Three ancient lanterns cast a warming orange glow over the circular timber door. Tolero gave three hefty knocks with his massive fist, the door opened inwards under the force of the blows.
‘Omari?’ Tolero called into the darkened cave. No answer.
‘He mustn’t have arrived back yet,’ Sattan said.
‘Then why is his door unlocked?’ asked Gabriel.
‘Why wouldn’t it be?’ said Tamera, ‘How would he get in or out if it was locked?’
‘Oh, Tamera,’ Seth sighed, ‘Tamera, Tamera, Tamera, you really should pay more attention in your Anthropology lessons. Humans have devices called keys to lock and unlock the doors to their homes. It keeps them safe inside and ensures nobody can steal their belongings.’
‘Snakes’ tails! That sounds awful! Gabriel, how could you bear to live within such an untrustworthy society?’
‘It’s not that bad!’ Gabriel said defensively, ‘Not everyone steals. The village I lived in was full of the most caring people you could ever hope to meet. My parents-’ Gabriel suddenly felt his eyes welling with tears and turned away.
‘Gabriel, I... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean... that is, our society isn’t that perfect either.’
‘I’m fine,’ Gabriel said wiping his eyes, ‘It’s just... It’s still raw, you know?’
‘I- we understand,’ Tamera said softly.
‘So there’s no crime here?’ Gabriel asked, deliberately changing the subject.
‘Well I wouldn’t say "no" crime,’ Tamera said, ‘it’s just that it’s very rare and punishments for wrongdoing are carried out swiftly by the Council. Now, would you like us to wait with you until Omari returns?’
‘No, I think I’ll be OK. I’ll check it out whilst I wait. Thanks for showing me around. See you again soon!’
His four companions left leaving Gabriel alone in his strange new home. He walked through the home of his grandfather, which, apart from the small beams of light casting window-shaped patterns on the floor, was mostly in darkness. He cursed himself for not asking the others how to turn on the lights. He gently lifted one of the many lanterns off the wall and examined it carefully. It reminded him of the pictures of old lanterns he had seen in school textbooks but he had no idea how to ignite it. He hung it back up and sat down on a small stool bathed in the light from the windows. Slowly, as his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, shadowy shapes of furniture began to take form.
After several minutes more his eyes had adjusted quite well to the gloom. He began to explore his new surroundings, stepping carefully so as not to crash into anything or break something valuable. The last thing he wanted to do was to start his relationship with his grandfather by apologising profusely for breaking an ancient relic or something.
Omari’s home was segmented into five smaller rooms. First there was what seemed to be the living room, which Gabriel had entered through the front door. The side walls were covered from floor to ceiling with sets of uneven and ramshackle old shelves, which were in turn filled by even older weathered books of all shapes and sizes. A desk by the window was littered with numerous sheets of paper containing furiously scribbled notes in illegible handwriting; some even contained strange pictures and symbols. At the far side of the room was a small kitchenette. A sink and stove were at its centre, surrounded by yet more rickety old shelves, this time containing all manner of pots and pans. A small pantry crammed full of food was tucked into the corner.
A doorway to the right of the kitchenette led into a small corridor. Off from this lay a bathroom, a bedroom and a long, narrow room that reminded Gabriel of the kind of oriental dojo he had seen in old martial arts movies: ancient scrolls hung on the walls (one the size of a door hung on the back wall, directly opposite from the entrance to the room). Two equally battered chests stood facing each other on opposite sides of the room. Small statuettes and ornaments were positioned equidistant from another around the edge of the room on the floor, which itself was covered with tightly woven straw mats. Am I expected to sleep on the floor? Gabriel wondered.
He was shaken from his train of thought by the sound of the front door creaking open and soft footsteps entering. ‘Gabriel?�
� Omari’s voice echoed throughout the small abode. ‘You could have put on the lights, you know.’
‘I wasn’t sure how to,’ Gabriel said as he met his grandfather in the living room.
‘Of course you don’t. Silly me.’ Omari stepped back outside, opened the casing of one of the wall mounted lanterns and lit a thin fuse-like stick, which he pulled from a concealed container behind the lantern. Inside the house, he walked around and lit each of the lanterns in turn, some mounted on the walls, some standing on tables. The cold, black cave was transformed instantly into a quaint and cosy home.
‘There we are, much better. I see you’ve gotten yourself acquainted with the place already. Now, I hope you don’t mind but I’ve designated the guest bedroom to you, feel free to rearrange it and add to it as you wish. I confess I’ve never used it since your father moved out. I always sleep in my studio. I do apologise for not making it back to see you sooner. I trust your tour guides showed you around adequately enough?’
‘Yes this place is incredible!’ Gabriel exclaimed.
‘Well we have had quite some time to make Sanctuary as accommodating as possible. A real haven, or sanctuary, if you will, from the outside world,’ Omari said as he perched on the stool by his desk. ‘Please, my boy, have a seat, make yourself comfortable, this is as much your home now as it is mine.’
Gabriel chose an old brown armchair in front of one of the many racks of books. He sunk right into the comfiest chair he’d ever sat in.
‘That’s something that’s been bothering me a bit since our talk.’
‘What has, dear boy?’
‘Well, this whole “we” thing. We all evolved at the same rate, right?’
‘Do you mean those in our society?’
‘I mean humans and the Colony. Didn’t we all evolve at the same rate?’
Child of the Gryphon Page 9