Sanctuary

by E. Edgar Price

  *****

  Benji had reason to be thankful his morning chores were in the company of Uncle Matt and Adam. Their banter made the morning go by quickly and they were encouraging rather than cautious when it came to discussing the sanctuary. Unlike him, Adam had grown up knowing about the fantastical stuff that Benji was dying to hear about. Uncle Matt hadn’t, but he certainly knew about it long before Benji did. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone agreed dragons were probably the most boring creatures on the planet. That was disappointing.

  Lunch came and went. Benji, Sarah, Tyler, and Jessie met Grandpa in the stables. Uncle Matt was supposed to come too, but he didn’t seem to be there yet.

  “I know none of you, except Jessie, are that familiar with riding horses.” Grandpa said. “For this reason, you’ll need to have lessons, otherwise much of the sanctuary grounds will be off limits. Not because you can’t get to most places on foot, but because it would take to long.”

  “So we’re not riding horses today?” Benji asked. He was actually looking forward to that part, not that he knew anything about horses.

  “Nope,” Grandpa shook his head. “We’ll be taking the easy way to the village.”

  That sounded boring. “Then why are we in the stables?” Benji wondered.

  “Because we need to pick up a few things from your Aunt’s workshop. You didn’t think this was solely a sightseeing tour, did you?” From the twinkle in Grandpa’s eyes, Benji surmised he knew that’s exactly what they thought.

  Grandpa led the four teenagers into the workshop. There were three backpacks and two satchels sitting on the work table. The backpacks looked bulky, but Benji discovered they were actually pretty light when Jessie handed him one before taking one herself. There was the tell-tale clink of glass when he slipped the straps over his shoulders. Potions maybe? Grandpa didn’t explain except to say they were supplies.

  The two satchels were filled with papers and files. Grandpa took one and gave the other to Sarah. “This is a business trip,” Grandpa explained. “I’ve been putting it off because of you kids, but now we’ve got a pile of paperwork to take care of.”

  “Paperwork?” So far, this was not shaping up to be the outing Benji hoped for. “What do you need paperwork for?”

  “Can’t run a sanctuary without paperwork,” Grandpa said with a grin. He then directed them all to the garden where Uncle Matt was waiting.

  “Are we going through the back of the maze?” Sarah asked. She hadn’t spoken much all morning and her question was faint amid the noisy menagerie of the garden.

  “Sure are,” Uncle Matt said. He patted her shoulder. “It’s usually hard to get through, the magic that conceals the other exit it is a bit testy, but it makes a nice short cut.”

  Grandpa waved them into the maze. The green walls felt close with their little troupe crowded inside. Eventually, Grandpa stopped in front of a blank wall of hedge. There was a little statue of a smiling half-goat man against the middle of the wall. Grandpa kicked it. Instead of connecting with stone, though, it looked as if Grandpa kicked a tire, his foot bouncing back unharmed. Nothing happened. Grandpa kicked it again and this time the air around the statue pulsed outward. When the air ripples reached the wall, leaves and stems seemed to grow in reverse leaving an arched opening.

  “Cool,” Benji breathed.

  “It doesn’t work all the time,” Uncle Matt said. “Usually we have to go behind the fields and tromp through the forest.”

  “Why is it working now?”

  Uncle Matt shrugged. “I don’t know much about using magic and how it really works,” he said, gesturing. “None of us know the origins of this particular doorway, but I think it’s like a rechargeable battery. After a time it dies, then it needs a certain amount of downtime before it’ll work again.”

  As Uncle Matt spoke, Grandpa led the way down a stone path surrounded by trees. Jessie and Tyler followed confidently close to him. Benji trailed a few steps behind them. Sarah hung back, walking more slowly than the rest and Uncle Matt brought up the rear. Sarah had been this way before, but Benji hadn’t and he walked eagerly down the tunnel-like trail looking ahead in anticipation.

  Before long, the trail widened and Grandpa skirted a row of stones leading to a shelter held up with pillars like the ones by the pool. They passed this, continuing east to follow the curve of a long, thin lake. Benji thought he could see houses on the other side of the lake, but he wasn’t sure and they passed out of view the further he walked. It took at least half an hour to get around the lake, long enough for Benji to wish there was boat so they could just go straight across. Finally, they trudged through a grove of trees and the village spread out before them.

  It was totally not what Benji expected. But then so few things were these days, he reflected. The village looked pretty normal. Aside from the unpaved roads (which were really more like dirt sidewalks), it could have been any small town in America. Even most of the people looked normal, although Benji spotted very young girls with wings and a man with leaves instead of hair. Grandpa entered on a side street and ambled up it to a slightly larger road that seemed to run down the center of the settlement.

  The main road opened up to make a big square, where folding tables and tents were set up like an open air market. Beyond that, the road led to a big blue house with a fountain in front of it. Benji wasn’t sure if the über-normal craftsman façade of the place made it more or less weird.

  Grandpa was waved at by everyone they passed and the rest of them were getting curious stares. A few men and women (or whatever they were) came up to speak to Grandpa or Uncle Matt briefly and Jessie stopped to speak to a woman with skin like tree bark and curly black hair. When they got to the market, they were stopped more frequently, but Grandpa ushered most of the people off with a promise to be back soon and headed straight for the big house.

  As soon as they passed the big fountain, a potbellied man with a big nose came rushing out the front door. “Finally,” the man said. His accent was thick, maybe English or Irish. “I’ve been waiting a moon’s turn for you to make a visit!” He shook Grandpa’s hand and clapped him on the back. “And who’ve you got with you?” the man asked, looking around Grandpa. “More than the usual crew, I see.”

  Grandpa gestured toward Benji and his siblings. “Flanagan,” he said with a smile, “these are more of my grandchildren.” He pointed to each one in turn. “This is Tyler, the eldest.” Tyler stepped forward and the portly man shook his hand with a whistle. “And Benjamin, the youngest.”

  Flanagan stepped forward to greet Benji and gave a big belly laugh when he shook Benji’s hand. “This one’s got the look of adventure about him,” he said amiably, “you’ll have to keep an eye on him.” He gave Benji a wink before turning towards Sarah. “And the lovely lady’s name?” Flanagan asked.

  Sarah seemed jumpy since entering the village. Now she was looking at Flanagan warily. “I’m Sarah,” she said without waiting for Grandpa to introduce her. The potbellied man took Sarah’s hand and bent over it in an old fashioned bow. Sarah snatched her hand back quickly and backed up a few steps.

  “A more perfect rose, I have never seen,” Flanagan complimented her gently. Benji and Tyler both laughed, which a earned them a glare from both Flanagan and Grandpa. Sarah looked acutely uncomfortable.

  Grandpa cleared his throat and steered Flanagan towards the blue house. “Flanagan is what you might call the mayor of this establishment,” he called back over his shoulder, “and we’ve got no time for his nonsense as there’s business to attend to.”

  “You always have to ruin a man’s fun,” the mayor said.

  “I’ll never understand,” Grandpa said leading the way into the house, “how a lay-about such as yourself always gets reelected year after year.”

  “It’s my charms and good looks.” Flanagan held open the door for the rest of the party to enter. Benji glanced disbelievingly at the man’s bulbous nose. He doubted it had anything with Flanagan’s good
looks. Flanagan waited for the six of them in the foyer and, with a slight bow, he said, “Welcome to my humble home.”

  Humble home my foot, Benji thought. The inside of the house was large and ornate, rivaling any southern plantation he had ever seen. It also seemed larger than it did from the outside and Benji wondered if that was due to clever decorating or perhaps magic. Flanagan led the way up a grand staircase and into a large office. There was a great curved desk in the middle of the room, which Flanagan sat behind, and several mismatched chairs scattered about. The mayor motioned for the rest to take seats as well.

  “Flanagan is a recanted leprechaun,” Grandpa said taking a seat in a wingback chair to the right of the big desk. “That accounts for his insistence on lush surroundings.”

  “Recanted?” Benji wasn’t sure he knew what that meant.

  “It means I gave it all up over a very important dispute,” the former leprechaun chuckled heartily. “At least it was important at the time.” He leaned back in his plush desk chair. “I’m sure the young ones are going to get bored with us very quickly,” he said to Grandpa. “Why don’t you send them out to the market?”

  “Oh no,” Grandpa shook his head vigorously, his mane of white hair waving with the motion. “This is part of a learning experience. I wouldn’t want them to miss a minute.” Grandpa and the ex-leprechaun both laughed this time. Benji really didn’t think it was that funny.

  Two hours later, Benji was slouching in a fluffy chair and wondering how the excitement of discovery could wear off so quickly. He was certain the whole point of this excursion was to make a show of how boring magic could be. And it was excruciatingly boring. While Benji found Flanagan entertaining, the paunchy man’s jokes got old fast and his demeanor eventually became obnoxious rather than amusing.

  Grandpa, Uncle Matt and Flanagan went over paper after paper. They wrote up contracts and renewed visas. They discussed a recent outbreak of usury in the village (Benji had to ask Jessie what that meant) and agreed that a law would have to be set down to prevent it. Apparently it was causing unrest and unrest in a semi-magical community could cause all sorts on irreparable problems. Benji wished they’d go into more detail, but neither man explained anything for Benji’s benefit.

  Finally, Grandpa gathered up what seemed like more papers than he brought and began returning them to the satchels. He asked the four teenagers to begin emptying the bags. After hesitating uncertainly, Benji began to pile the contents of his backpack in the middle of the floor. He was surprised to discover that his bag held glass bottles of olive oil and vinegar. Definitely not magic potions.

  “What’s all this for?” Tyler asked, pulling out a bag of white rice. Even Sarah looked a bit confused holding a can of Lysol.

  Flanagan answered in his cheery voice. “Those, my dear boy, are things we can’t grow or make ourselves. Little luxuries that get doled out to the masses. And of course those,” Flanagan went over to Jessie who was taking out a box of extra-soft Kleenex, “are for me. My allergies are atrocious in the summer.” He rubbed his big nose as if to exemplify his point.

  “I trust we won’t have any problems?” Grandpa asked.

  “No indeed,” Flanagan answered. “Take what Rachel needs and send her my best.”

  Grandpa nodded and Benji noticed the jars and bottles that his aunt sold her shampoos and soaps in were mixed in with the other goods. Jessie caught his curious stare.

  “Everybody loves this stuff,” she said holding out a little purple pot labeled ‘oil of freesia.’ Benji shrugged.

  Once they had all the bags emptied out, Grandpa sent them down to the foyer. He and Uncle Matt explained they needed to have a few private words with Flanagan before leaving.

  “Is it always like this?” Benji asked Jessie, exasperated. She looked just as bored as Benji felt.

  “Nearly always,” she answered with a shrug. “It’ll get more interesting once we’re in the market,” she promised. “There’s just as much red tape here as there is outside of the sanctuary. Probably more.”

  “That makes sense,” Sarah spoke up. “It would be more complicated to protect this place with absolute secrecy than it would be to provide refuge for something that was on the nightly news.”

  Jessie looked surprised Sarah caught on. “That’s right,” she added. “The secrecy alone requires a lot of time and effort to maintain, not to mention every magical community has their own customs and set of laws that we have to respect.”

  “Otherwise they might object to the sanctuary existing in the first place,” Sarah mused. Jessie nodded, but Grandpa and Uncle Matt came down before they could say anything else.

  “To the market,” Grandpa pointed out the door and, after farewells from Flanagan, they exited.

  The market was as interesting as promised. A bulletin must have gone around announcing Grandpa’s presence because as soon as they stepped out the door, they were flocked by people issuing greetings and asking for favors. Grandpa handled it well, but had to send Jessie and Uncle Matt on ahead with Benji, Tyler and Sarah so they could get the marketing done in time to make it home for dinner.

  There was a longstanding agreement, Benji learned, between the vendors and Aunt Rachel. Jessie and Uncle Matt took them around to various stalls where they filled their backpacks up with an odd assortment of ingredients. Benji was handed a box of basilisk scales by an old lady with lizard-like eyes. He gathered jars of slime from a short, bald person who could’ve been man or woman, Benji didn’t ask. Uncle Matt introduced him to each vendor, but Benji had a hard time keeping them straight. He was more interested in their wares anyhow. What did a jar of purple, sponge-like fungus do?

  Their backpacks were mostly full when the group of five approached a white plastic table under a heavy white awning. A short, pale girl stood behind the table. She had big brown eyes and long white dreadlocks. Benji thought she had the modern hippie look down pat. She was handing Jessie a shiny wooden box when someone called out Sarah’s name from behind them. Benji’s turned toward the sound and saw a boy obviously the vendor’s brother running up to the group.

  “Sarah,” he called out again, and halted his light jog in front of Benji’s sister. “I’m so glad to see you, are you well?”

  Sarah didn’t look exactly happy to see him. Jessie nudged her. “You know this guy?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  After a moment of awkward staring between the pale dude and Sarah, she answered, “Yes, this is my . . . friend, San.”

  Benji stared at the newcomer curiously. “You’re the horse guy?” he asked.

  The girl at the table snorted. “We’re mære,” she said as if talking to a very slow child.

  Benji shrugged noncommittally. Whatever. He’d ask Grandpa later.

  “I’m glad you’ve met my sister, Mora,” San was telling Sarah. He grabbed her hands in his and moved closer to her. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he repeated. “You still don’t feel well, but it is better than before.” That wasn’t a creepy thing to say at all, Benji thought sarcastically.

  Sarah yanked her hands away and rubbed them like they were cold. “I’m fine,” she said. Jessie was looking between the two with a worried expression and Uncle Matt looked like he wanted to pull Sarah back from the hippie. “It’s kind of you to worry,” Sarah said politely, “but unnecessary.” She took a step back, much to Uncle Matt’s obvious relief.

  At that moment, Grandpa came to fetch them. He shook hands with both Mora and San and some of the tension left the air. “I trust the two of you are well?” it was a pleasant enough question, but Benji heard an edge in Grandpa’s voice. Benji felt like he’d just missed something big, but had no idea what it was.

  “We are,” San answered. “I was just reintroducing myself to your granddaughter. We’ve met previously and I was surprised to see her at my sister’s stall. I was concerned by her earlier unawareness, but I see now, I shouldn’t have worried.” The pale guy’s tone was equally edgy.

  Grandpa
glanced at Sarah who still looked unsure. “I know,” Grandpa said. “Perhaps I could have a word with you and your sister for a moment.” Grandpa asked Uncle Matt to stay behind but waved the others off. Benji was reluctant to go, he really wanted to know what was going on, but Grandpa sent a steely eyed glare their way that motivated Benji to follow orders. Jessie tugged a hesitant Sarah towards the fountain and the teenagers sat on the lip.

  “Is he dangerous?” Sarah asked Jessie.

  Jessie shrugged. “No more than any other guy, I guess.”

  “He’s a weirdo,” Tyler asserted.

  “He’s usually pretty nice,” Jessie informed them. “Mora’s the rude one, but they’re both okay.” Jesse hesitated. “He seemed way too interested in you, Sarah.”

  “Yeah,” Tyler agreed, “he was certainly giving out some strange vibes. No offense, but I think he’d make a terrible boyfriend.” Sarah laughed a little and agreed. Benji concurred with Tyler. That guy was weird.

  Grandpa and Uncle Matt came to collect them after that. The dreadlocks guy stood behind the adults and waved when the group set off again. Benji suspected there was something he should have noticed, but he couldn’t figure out what. It wasn’t odd that a guy had a crush on his sister. That had happened before. Sarah didn’t seem exactly pleased by the attention, but she’d been nervy all day, so that didn’t really mean anything either. Benji shook his head. It was probably just wishful thinking. He really expected this day to be a lot more exciting.

  They left the village the same way they entered. Their return trip was uneventful. Back at the manor, Benji was glad to find Marvin digging in the garden with Sylvie. He hoped to have time to fill the genie in on the events of the day before suppertime. First they had to deliver their wares to the workshop, though. Benji hiked his pack higher on his shoulder and lugged it out to the stables with his cousin and brother. Sarah and Grandpa took their satchels of paperwork to the study. All in all, Benji thought he got the better deal. If he learned anything today it was this: paperwork can make anything boring.

  *****

  Chapter 20: Mediation