The Place
The Gaze Caverns is a cavern of turned stone, and the turned is the whole of the place, because a cavern that is turned is a cavern that has been looked at, and the looking is the law. The cavern runs twelve kilometers under the moor, and the twelve kilometers is the measure the basilisks trust, because a cavern that has been carved is a cavern that has been kept, and the keeping is the gaze. The stone of the cavern is a pale grey, a grey that is more turn than color, and the pale is the color of the look, which is to say it is a color you can see in the dark and not in the light. The walls of the cavern are carved with the shapes of those who looked, a green-black that is more scale than color, and the green is the color of the gaze, and the gaze is the calendar, and the calendar is the turn. The sky over the moor is a flat grey, the color of the mist when the rain is near, and the rain is near, and the near is the season. It smells of wet stone and old scale, a smell that is the cavern and is also the gaze, and the one sound under the stone is the crack, a small dry stone-on-stone from the center of the cavern that is the gaze being read as a word, and the word is the turn, and the turn is the look. There is no landmark the way a cavern has a landmark, but there is one: the First Gaze, a single carved shape at the center of the cavern, the oldest carve and the first look, and the carve is the door, and the door is the crack. What makes the Gaze Caverns itself is the weapon: the cavern keeps its looks the way the looks keep the turn, and the keeping is the gaze, and the gaze is the word, and the word is the end.
How They Live
The Basilisks build their caverns in the stone, chambers of bare rock and packed earth, lined with scale and hide, their entrances low and guarded by the gaze-wall, and a chamber is carved one look at a time, because a look is the season and a look is the calendar. The chambers are low and deep, a pale grey over a darker floor, and the pale is the wall and the darker is the law, and the law is the turn. Light comes from the cavern — the grey-green shimmer of the scale, which glows faintly in the dark, and the shimmer is the daylight, and the daylight is the kept. Food is the cavern: the small game, the look, the turn to stone, and the gaze that keeps the weapon honest, and the game is the staple, because the game is the look, and the look is the kept. Water is drawn from the cavern's springs, which the gaze-queens tend like a garden, and the tending is the craft and the craft is the rank, and the springs are the cold threads at the cavern's edge, and the threads are the kept. Heat is the scale in the season of the cold, and the season is the year, and the basilisks have stopped asking the stone for more. The gaze-light is cold and kept in the word, and the cold is the law, because a light that is cold is a light that has been turned, and the turning is the word. The defense is the gaze itself — a visitor who steps into the cavern is already in the turn's path, and the turn is the alarm and the welcome and the sentence, because the cavern has a look, and the look has a turn, and the turn has an end. The day is measured by the gaze, which is also the calendar, because the cavern is the only clock the weapon needs, and the clock does not lie about what is owed. Every basilisk that is named must stand at the First Gaze through one full crack before the cavern will call it one of its own, and the standing is the naming, and the naming is the only thing the stone ever gives back.
People
Home of the Basilisks, whose caverns are counted by look. Twelve caverns at the last count, and the count is kept by the gaze-queens, which is to say the count is as reliable as the crack, which is to say it is reliable until the look breaks. The gaze-queens lead, and rank is decided by the turning, because a queen who turns a look the cavern has forgotten is the queen the carve trusts. Nothing that cannot look is welcome, and the not-looking is not an insult, because the cavern has a word, and the word has a turn, and the turn has an end. A traveler who once stood at the mouth of the cavern called it a country that keeps its looks the way other countries keep their fields, and the calling was the truest thing he said and the thing the cavern paid the least attention to.
In Stories
The place where the gaze is the only honest weapon, and the weapon is the turn, and the turn is the look, and the look is the end. The Forgotten have not entered the cavern, and the not-entering is the decision, and the decision is the longest one the guild has made. Uaellaen heard the crack once, from the mouth of the First Gaze, and the hearing was the turn, and the turn was the only thing that lasted.