Cracks in the Shell

Chapter 9

The prison guards left them to travel alone. Soon they’d descended a wider set of stairs that seemed to plunge on forever – much farther than they’d climbed. Carlos thought they might be below sea level when they finally emerged into a curving chamber, much like the lobby of a concert theatre. He had thanked Ayzili for freeing them and then asked how she did it so quickly.

“I know the head of the council,” she said with a mischievous grin.

“In the Biblical sense?” Henry asked, but Carlos punched him in the shoulder before he could elaborate. 

“He’s a reasonable man,” Ayzili continued, “yet the high priesthood undercuts his power. They don’t trust him.” She made a point of looking at Zui as she said this, but he avoided her gaze.

“Who leads the priesthood then?” Carlos asked, trying to grasp the politics. 

“A man named Sarn.” She let an edge of contempt creep into her voice. “If you’re fortunate, we won’t cross paths tonight.”

Zui explained, “Our order tends the gardens. We live in the monastery.”

“Not the Cathedral?” Henry asked.

Ayzili shook her head. “No, that belongs to everyone.” She paused, realizing how little these strangers knew. “Years ago the high priesthood broke ranks with the other priests of Ginen. They wanted to force their religious laws on the people. When that didn’t happen, they cloistered up here, declaring themselves protectors of the gardens. ”

“It’s our sacred duty,” Zui said. 

Ayzili snorted. “They’ve filled his ears with sand.” She ruffled his hair affectionately. The young monk smiled, thrilled at the attention she was giving him. His cheeks flushed red as he walked up to the doors barring their path. A series of locks and gears crisscrossed the iron plating here. Zui began to rearrange them in a set pattern. Carlos tried to memorize the combination of switches and dials but soon lost count. Instead he focused on the elaborate carvings that decorated the hall. One looked familiar, a checked heart with a dagger piercing its side.

“This same pattern is woven into the silk of your tent, er tapo,” he said to Ayzili. “That’s your guardian lwa, your met tet?” The monk and Ayzili exchanged glances. This was clearly a fact any child here would know.

“Yes, that’s the sign of my lwa,” she said and then turned her attention back to the door. After much tinkering, a clicking noise erupted from the mechanism, and the gears swung into motion. It reminded Carlos of the mechanics behind a clock face, as lock after lock sprung loose. Once the final bolt had pulled free, the doors groaned and inched open a few feet. 

Carlos was not prepared for what he saw next. Bathed in pale moonlight, the courtyard that lay before them was so vast, they couldn’t even see its walls. Wind rustled through clusters of palm fronds overhead, carrying with it the scent of Hibiscus and Jasmine. These palms bordered an array of winding paths that led off in countless directions. The main trail swept past an impressive monument, three statues of men in kingly robes, who gazed forward as if guarding the entrance. Looking past their stone crowns, Carlos could see a few stars dotting the evening sky.

“A little Garden of Eden,” Henry said. Zui looked taken aback as if he’d committed blasphemy. 

“Of Simbi. The Garden of Simbi,” he corrected.  To Carlo’s surprise Henry leaned close to Ayzili.

“And who’s Simbi?” he asked her.

“Lwa of fresh water and magic.” As if to highlight her words, the doors closed behind them with a reverberated echo.