of moonglow, the center of Pahmey's power. Distant figures seemed to move within that crystal moon, watching the city.
"The elders of Pahmey live up there, Eelani," Koyee whispered, pointing at the palace. "They are very wise, and they can help us."
But most amazing of all, Koyee thought, were not these towers but what floated above them. Her father had told her stories of hot air balloons, but Koyee had always thought them only legends. Yet here, above Pahmey, she saw several of the flying ships. Each one seemed a hundred times larger than her boat. Patchworks of silk formed each balloon, blue and gold and white, and men stood within their baskets, gazing down upon the crystal city.
"Pahmey," Koyee whispered. "Look at it, Eelani. It's a bit larger than home, isn't it?" She smiled. "Do you think we'll find my brother here?"
After leaving home years ago, had Okado too found his way to this hub of light? Did he even stand upon these walls now, looking down upon her, a guard of the city? Koyee had not seen her brother since she'd been only six; if she met Okado here, would she even recognize him? She gripped the hilt of Sheytusung, the silk soft and comforting.
The city docks stretched out ahead. Koyee steered her boat toward them, dodging junk ships large and small. The docks spread out like the branches of trees back in the dusk. Countless vessels swayed here, tethered to posts, some great ships with wide sails and lofty masts, others fishing dinghies no larger than her own. Koyee oared carefully, nearly knocking into a towering ship with three stories of portholes. She maneuvered around a buoy, past a pier bustling with fishermen, and toward a dock lined with boats.
As Koyee rowed along, searching for a place to moor, people bustled about the docks. Some walked toward the city, bearing baskets of leather and bone, fish and clams and crabs bustling inside. A few people seemed to be merchants; they wore rich silks embroidered with silver and gold, and jewels hung around their necks. Some were buskers, playing lutes and harps or singing for coins, while others sat and begged. One boy, a scrawny little thing clad only in a loincloth, grabbed a coin from a merchant's pocket, then dived into the water and swam away.
"So many people, Eelani!" Koyee said. "There might be thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands. I never imagined so many people could live in one place."
Koyee looked down at her clothes, a simple tunic of white fur, leaving her legs and feet bare. Nobody else here wore fur; most people wore silk, the fabrics elaborate and embroidered. Koyee had never felt poorer, never felt so much the humble fisherman's daughter from Oshy.
One hand oaring, the other holding her katana's hilt, she finally saw an empty place along the docks. She steered her boat near, slowed down, and let Lodestar bump against the mooring. Gingerly, she climbed out of the boat.
As she stood on the dock, her head spun and her legs wobbled. She had spent ten hourglass days in her boat, and she almost fell. The world swayed around her, the ships bobbing and the city towers tilting. It was several moments before Koyee steadied herself, grabbed a rope, and tethered her boat to a peg. Children scampered around her, reaching for her pockets, and Koyee glared and slapped their hands away. They fled, knocking over a fisherman's box of crabs, sending the creatures to scuttle across the docks and around Koyee's feet.
She hefted her belt and gave her boat a last look. She would miss the solitude of the river, the song of the water, and the tranquility of the darkness. But she had not left Oshy to sail aimlessly. Here in this great city she would find aid for her home.
With a deep breath, her legs still wobbling, Koyee took a step away from her boat. She walked across the docks, heading toward the city.
She stepped onto a boardwalk of cobbled flagstones. Pewter lanterns swung above her, shaped like fish with glowing eyes. Fishermen rummaged through their
"The elders of Pahmey live up there, Eelani," Koyee whispered, pointing at the palace. "They are very wise, and they can help us."
But most amazing of all, Koyee thought, were not these towers but what floated above them. Her father had told her stories of hot air balloons, but Koyee had always thought them only legends. Yet here, above Pahmey, she saw several of the flying ships. Each one seemed a hundred times larger than her boat. Patchworks of silk formed each balloon, blue and gold and white, and men stood within their baskets, gazing down upon the crystal city.
"Pahmey," Koyee whispered. "Look at it, Eelani. It's a bit larger than home, isn't it?" She smiled. "Do you think we'll find my brother here?"
After leaving home years ago, had Okado too found his way to this hub of light? Did he even stand upon these walls now, looking down upon her, a guard of the city? Koyee had not seen her brother since she'd been only six; if she met Okado here, would she even recognize him? She gripped the hilt of Sheytusung, the silk soft and comforting.
The city docks stretched out ahead. Koyee steered her boat toward them, dodging junk ships large and small. The docks spread out like the branches of trees back in the dusk. Countless vessels swayed here, tethered to posts, some great ships with wide sails and lofty masts, others fishing dinghies no larger than her own. Koyee oared carefully, nearly knocking into a towering ship with three stories of portholes. She maneuvered around a buoy, past a pier bustling with fishermen, and toward a dock lined with boats.
As Koyee rowed along, searching for a place to moor, people bustled about the docks. Some walked toward the city, bearing baskets of leather and bone, fish and clams and crabs bustling inside. A few people seemed to be merchants; they wore rich silks embroidered with silver and gold, and jewels hung around their necks. Some were buskers, playing lutes and harps or singing for coins, while others sat and begged. One boy, a scrawny little thing clad only in a loincloth, grabbed a coin from a merchant's pocket, then dived into the water and swam away.
"So many people, Eelani!" Koyee said. "There might be thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands. I never imagined so many people could live in one place."
Koyee looked down at her clothes, a simple tunic of white fur, leaving her legs and feet bare. Nobody else here wore fur; most people wore silk, the fabrics elaborate and embroidered. Koyee had never felt poorer, never felt so much the humble fisherman's daughter from Oshy.
One hand oaring, the other holding her katana's hilt, she finally saw an empty place along the docks. She steered her boat near, slowed down, and let Lodestar bump against the mooring. Gingerly, she climbed out of the boat.
As she stood on the dock, her head spun and her legs wobbled. She had spent ten hourglass days in her boat, and she almost fell. The world swayed around her, the ships bobbing and the city towers tilting. It was several moments before Koyee steadied herself, grabbed a rope, and tethered her boat to a peg. Children scampered around her, reaching for her pockets, and Koyee glared and slapped their hands away. They fled, knocking over a fisherman's box of crabs, sending the creatures to scuttle across the docks and around Koyee's feet.
She hefted her belt and gave her boat a last look. She would miss the solitude of the river, the song of the water, and the tranquility of the darkness. But she had not left Oshy to sail aimlessly. Here in this great city she would find aid for her home.
With a deep breath, her legs still wobbling, Koyee took a step away from her boat. She walked across the docks, heading toward the city.
She stepped onto a boardwalk of cobbled flagstones. Pewter lanterns swung above her, shaped like fish with glowing eyes. Fishermen rummaged through their
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