The Traitor's Heir

Chapter Two

The bank itself had a grand storefront, made of marble brought in long ago from a land far to the north. It gleamed in the steady light of the Heart, a pure, unblemished alabaster. The windows were opaque and a large gold plated door, adorned by two intricately detailed dragons standing in relief, let the people of the Caverns come in and out during business hours. The doors stood open during the day and were barred at night.

Behind the façade the interior of the bank was still rather grand. The furniture was ancient and worn in places, but every surface shown as though it had been polished only moments before. There were gleaming white marble benches, with worn red velvet cushions that must have been added at a later date, and the counters and pillars were white marble as well. Only the surrounding structure was the familiar granite that marked the architecture of almost every home and business within the Caverns, and the lighting that adorned the furthest edges of these walls seemed purposefully dim, as if to help the mind forget that the luxury didn't extend to the edges of the room.

One teller worked at a time now, taking down a note about what belonged to whom, although there were spaces for as many as twenty people to work behind the counter at once, as had been the case long ago. Off of the main room ran many hallways, all carefully mapped, leading to small individual rooms with heavy iron gates where a person might store something that they felt needed to be protected or hidden from prying eyes.

Hardly anyone used them nowadays though, because secrets within the Caverns were few and far between. Besides, who kept real secrets in a place where everyone knew they should be kept? Quara had never heard anyone admit to purchasing the use of one of these little rooms, but she supposed that if you were hiding something away, it likely wasn't something you discussed casually with others.

On the side of the bank closest to the stairs that led up to the upper living quarters stood the store. Here her mother came to shop for little luxury items that weren't given out at the commissary. When Quara's father had had a particularly prosperous day down in the mines or created something exceptionally beautiful in his metal shop, her mother would return with strawberries and white sugar, honey and butter and little pieces of candy wrapped in wax paper that melted in your mouth the moment they touched your tongue.

The storefront itself was possibly the strangest in all of the Caverns. If the bank was grand, the Store, known as Smitty's Shop after the old man who ran it, was exceedingly quaint. It had been fashioned on the outside to look like a cabin made of logs, only unlike the bank, the careful craftsmanship had stretched beyond the façade itself and engulfed the entire store. The sides of the medium sized cave were disguised with log walls, complete with open "windows" that looked out on carefully painted oil scenes. Her favorite window showed a painting of the sea, a large body of water she had heard tales of but could only imagine, with a ship being tossed by gigantic waves.

The luxury goods were set atop wooden barrels or in roughly made wooden boxes on rustic tables. Quara always had the distinct impression, although she could never say exactly why, that the old man was laughing at his customers as they bought things that they didn't really need in a store which held nothing that was an actual necessity. After all, no one needed the strawberries that certain young men risked life and limb to pluck from a particular spot hidden a fair distance out in the mountains, but they were one of the most sought after dishes at special occasions and celebrations and feasts. Quara wasn't entirely convinced that they really tasted sweeter than the strawberries that were grown in the Meadow, but others, including her own brothers, swore that there was no comparison.

Still Quara never felt completely comfortable in the store, despite the friendly shopkeeper and his always sparkling eyes. Her mother always said that she seemed to have inherited her grandmother's frugal nature, for she too was always uncomfortable buying anything that wasn't an absolute necessity.