Page 92 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
Beau, for once, was too awestruck to take out his notebook. He stayed firmly in place until a dwarf came by on a two-wheeled contraption, yelling at him to “watch it!”
Bell yanked him out of the way. “Look lively, lad.”
Beau let out a string of unintelligible words. Luna patted his arm.
Aislinn turned behind her. If Beau was surprised, the look on Caerwyn’s face was beyond description. He looked like he’d been hit in the face with a frying pan.
Aislinn tugged on his sleeve. “Are you all right?”
“This… isn’t what I expected.”
“No, me neither.”
“There are carriages without horses.”
“So I see.”
“How do theywork?”
Aislinn, who had no idea, just shrugged. How was any of this possible without magic?
“Welcome to Avalinth,” Flora said, barely concealing her grin. “City of science.”
They made their way through the straight, wide streets of Avalinth at the pace of snails, Beau constantly running off to stare into shop windows and letting out countless amounts of squeaks and gasps. They had shops in Acanthia, of course, but not likethis.Entire buildings offered floor after floor of clothing—lace to leather, mesh to metal. There were giant apothecaries lined with jars and tinctures in rainbows of colour. Shops that sold only springs to gears or traps. There were blacksmiths that specialised purely in axes or armour or arrowheads, wares arranged in terrific displays like pieces of artwork. There were shops selling jewellery and crystals and flowers—because even buds bloomed beneath the strange, warm veins of light—although not a single one of the flowers looked like anything Aislinn had seen before. Some petals looked like gemstones, some leaves like scraps of copper. She had to stop several times to admire them, just to ensure they were real.
She had never, ever seen anything like this.
“This is unreal,” Caer breathed, eyes saucer-wide as he stared almost hungrily at a shop selling tiny clockwork animals. A small horse composed entirely of bronze and gears galloped across the window display.
Does he like it here?
Does he hate it?
Which answer did she prefer?
Of course she wanted him to like it. Of course she didn’t want him to feel trapped here. But if he loved it too much…
He would never want to leave.
Minerva chuckled under her breath, like a patient grandmother surrounded by excited children. “Come on, young ‘uns. We’ve a way to go yet.”
They left the bustling streets behind, navigating over tram lines and through crowds and passed strange, three-wheeled contraptions propelled along the streets by some sort of pedal.
Ahead of them, at the end of the cavern on the highest point, stood a castle of gold stone surrounded by thick, stout walls. It looked carved out of the mountain itself.
“Impressive,” Beau whispered. “How does one breathe down here?”
Flora pointed to vents high up on the ceiling. “Pumps fresh air in from the agricultural levels.”
“You haveagricultural levels?What grows there? What’s your main produce—”
Flora laughed, humouring Beau’s questions as they walked. The noise of the city quietened once they drew closer to the castle and away from the market districts. The houses grew taller and grander, although Aislinn noticed a few buildings with giant cracks, inlaid with gems and obsidian.
Luna caught her staring. “Dwarven custom,” she said. “We never tear down anything. Something that’s been broken and restored is more valuable than that which is new.”
“A lovely sentiment,” said Caer, his face frozen in something that more resembled horror, “but there’s a pillar over there inlaid with what just seems to be gold plaster.”
“Aye, lad,” Minerva said, “what of it?”
