Eden

Thirty-Nine

I keep on pulling up water. As I do, I look around. I want to keep asking questions, since I have someone to talk to who knows this place.

I want to ask something, anything, so I glance around, searching for things to ask about. I look up the walls, towering above us, and decide my next question is fairly obvious. The walls are big, and right there, and an obvious thing to ask about, and I'm still quite impressed by them, too.

"Who made those?" I say. "The walls?"

The water-seller glances over, and then she shrugs. "We don't know," she says. "No-one knows. They're ancient. Older than the city. Older than any city, probably."

"Oh," I say, surprised. "No-one remembers who built them?"

"No-one I've spoken to. Perhaps someone does."

"Doesn't anyone even have guesses, though?" I say. "Walls that big... surely someone must have some idea?"

She shrugs. So apparently not.

"Not even stories?" I say. "Just stories people tell?"

To be honest, I'm finding her lack of curiosity a bit surprising, but I suppose she's become used to this place, and doesn't find it all as new and interesting as I do, not any more.

"People built them, probably," she says. "People build all sorts of things for no particular reason. Perhaps some wizard did it, or perhaps a djinni."

"Oh," I say again.

"This is Eden," she says. "It is what it is." She thinks, then adds, almost as if she's reciting something, "Eden, the land where grass became wheat, and wild animals became tame, and plenty was given. It is here that all began."