Distracted as he was by Seregil's condition, Alec couldn't help looking out at the passing city now and then. Carts, horses, litters, and pedestrians of all descriptions thronged the streets. The road leading up to
the citadel was enclosed in curtain walls on both sides and the stonework seemed to trap the noise and amplify it.
This road ended at the broad outer gate of the city.
Half a dozen blue-clad guards flanked the entrance, armed with swords and pikes, but traffic passed freely. Once through the gate they slowed, moving through an inner barbican, and then passed under the archway of a second gate, its ancient pediment decorated with carvings of fish. Beyond lay the largest marketplace Alec had ever seen.
The stone-flagged square stretched away on all sides, jammed with hundreds of wooden booths.
Their colorful awnings rippled in the brisk wind.
A broad avenue had been left open through the center of the square to allow for traffic, and narrow side lanes branched out from it into the wilderness of shops.
From all sides came the clamor of the city: voices shouting, animals braying, the pounding of artisans at work, and the rumble of the carts that flowed in a steady line in both directions along the street.
Tall, white-plastered buildings, some as much as five stories high, ringed the market square.
Everywhere he looked there were people.
Continuing on, they plunged into the maze of streets and neighborhoods that spread over the hills.
Structures of all sorts lined the streets, in some cases even overhanging it with walkways and elaborate solariums. Wagons and riders filled the streets; children, dogs, and pigs darted about underfoot.
As the dizzying spectacle flowed by, Alec recalled with horror his original plan to bring Seregil through Rhнminee alone.
The broad avenue they followed opened periodically into broad, stone-paved circles from which other streets radiated like the spokes from the hub of a wheel. Under other circumstances Alec might have asked Nysander about them, but the wizard had grown silent again, watching Seregil's shallow breathing with apparent concern.
Holding his tongue, Alec saw that they were entering an area of larger, more elaborate buildings.
Presently they came to another of the open circles, this one centered around a circular colonnade some forty feet in diameter and bordered on one side by a wooded park.
"The Fountain of Astellus, a spring which has never gone dry since the founding of the city," Nysander remarked, indicating the colonnade. "The original city was centered around it. We are nearly to the Orлska."
Halfway around the circle, their driver veered to the left onto another broad, tree-lined avenue.
High walls lined the street on either side, presenting blank faces of smooth stone or plaster except for the broad bands of decoration bordering the tops and gateways. Some patterns were painted, others done in mosaics of colored stone or tile.
He would later learn that these decorated walls, screening the elegant villas beyond, were not merely decorative; in the Noble Quarter one might be directed to "the house in Golden Helm Street with the red serpent gate" or "the house with the black and gold circles in a blue border."
Small marble pillars stood at intervals along the streets here, each one carved with a figure representing the name of that street. Small gilded helmets marked the way that Alec and Nysander followed.
"Are those all palaces?" Alec asked, catching glimpses of carved and painted facades beyond the walls.
"Oh, no, just villas. Many are owned by members of the Queen's Kin," Nysander replied. "Aunts, brothers, cousins so far removed one must consult the Archives to ascertain from which obscure third brother of what queen or consort they are descended."
"Seregil said it was a complicated place, but that I'd have to learn all about it," replied Alec, looking rather glum at the prospect.
"Quite true, but I am certain he will not expect you to learn overnight," the wizzard assured him. "You could have no better teacher than Seregil for such matters. If you will look ahead, however, you will see a true palace."
Golden Helm Street ended at the huge walled park surrounding the Queen's Palace. The carriage turned onto a cross street and they passed an open gate, Alec glimpsed an expanse of open ground and beyond it a sprawling edifice of pale grey stone decorated along the battlements with patterns of black and white.
Continuing on, they came to another great enclosed park. The gleaming white walls seemed to have been erected for the purpose of privacy rather than defense, however, for the graceful arch through which they passed had neither door nor portcullis.
As they entered the grounds Alec let out a yelp of surprise. Within the embrace of the surrounding walls, it was as if the seasons had suddenly rushed forward into summer. The sky overhead was the same pale winter blue as before, but the air around them was cool and sweet as a spring morning. On every side stretched carefully laid out lawns and beds of brilliant flowers and blooming trees. Robed figures moved among them or reclined on benches.
Alec blinked in disbelief as he caught sight of an enormous centaur playing a harp beneath a nearby tree.
The creature had the body of a tall chestnut stallion, but rising from its withers was the hirsute torso of a man. Coarse black hair overhung his brow in a long forelock and grew in a mane down his back. Nearby a woman floated cross-legged ten feet above the ground, lazily tossing globes of colored glass into the air and directing their motion in time to his music.
Nysander waved to the centaur as they wheeled past and the creature returned the greeting with a nod of his great head.
In the center of all these marvels stood the Orлska House itself, a soaring structure of gleaming white stone surmounted by a faceted, onion-shaped dome that flashed brightly in the sunlight. Slender towers topped with smaller domes and studded at intervals with carved oriels stood at each of the building's four corners.
A set of broad stairs led up to the main entrance where half a dozen servants in red tabards stood
waiting. Two men hurried forward with a litter as the carriage came to a stop; a third shouldered the battered pack and Alec's meager bundle. At Nysander's nod, Seregil was carried inside.
The main building was centered around a huge atrium lit by the natural light streaming in through the clear glass dome above.
Rising up from a splendid mosaic floor, the inner walls were broken by five levels of balconies and walkways decorated with more elaborate Skalan carving and tile work.
Nysander strode across the atrium and through one of the large archways that flanked it. Beyond lay a staircase that spiraled gently upward, giving onto a landing at each level. At the third landing they walked down an interior corridor lined with doors, found another stairway, and climbed again.
The place was teeming with people in all manner of dress. Those that appeared to be servants or visitors paid them little heed, but Alec noticed that the wizards, whom he distinguished by their long, colorful robes, invariably drew back from them as if in fear or disgust. Several made strange signs in the air as they passed and one, a boy whose white robe had only simple bands of color at the sleeves, collapsed in a faint.
"Why do they keep doing that?" Alec whispered to Nysander.
"I shall explain presently," Nysander murmured.
Leading the way along one of the fifth-floor walkways, he stopped at a heavy door.
"Welcome to my home," he said. Opening the door for the litter bearers, the wizard motioned for Alec to preceed him.
Stepping in, Alec found himself in a narrow, tunnel-like space. Stacks of boxes, crates, and sheaves of parchment filled whatever space there was from floor to ceiling. A single, narrow pathway allowed access to the inner rooms; two people might have been able to squeeze past one another, but it would be at the risk of setting off an avalanche.