But the bones of the building – the soaring ceiling, the graceful arches, the way the space flows from one area to the next – that is all still here.
"A'Vanti," Cody says, and something in his tone makes me look over. His face is full of wonder and admiration. "This is beautiful."
"It was meant to be a gathering place." My voice echoes slightly in the empty space. "The main hall here was for community events. I designed the space with its high ceiling to feel open and grand."
I move deeper into the building, and Cody follows. The alcoves along the walls where families could sit together during gatherings. The smaller rooms off the main hall, each designed for a different purpose: a reading room, a nursery for small children, a space for meditation and prayer. I point to the raised platform at the far end of the immense room.
"Presentation Ceremonies were held here," I say. "Males would stand on that platform and present themselves, hoping to be chosen by their intended female. If she accepted, they would be mated for life."
Cody looks at the platform for a long moment. Then at me. But he doesn't comment.
I look back at the platform, and an image arrives unbidden and vivid of Cody standing there, those blue eyes finding mine across the hall, waiting for me to choose him. My neck heats.
I turn and head down a corridor leading away from the main hall.
"This room was my favorite." I push open a door to reveal a circular chamber with a domed ceiling. "It was meant for storytelling. The acoustics—" I clap my hands once, and the sound reverberates. "You see? The shape of the room carries sound without distorting it. A storyteller could speak in a normal voice, and everyone would hear perfectly."
"You really thought of everything." Cody runs his hand along the curved wall. "This is remarkable, A'Vanti. I'm serious. This building… it has soul."
I turn to look at him, this human who keeps surprising me.
"Thank you," I whisper. "Thank you for bringing me here."
He closes the distance between us. "I'd bring you anywhere."
And then he is kissing me.
His hands cup my face with infinite gentleness, and his lips move on mine with a tenderness that makes my knees weak. I grip the front of his shirt to steady myself and kiss him back, pouring into it all the gratitude and wonder and overwhelming emotion I cannot find words for.
When we finally part, I am trembling.
"We should…" I have to clear my throat. "We should see the rest."
"Right." Cody's voice is rough. "The rest. Yes."
But he does not release me immediately. Instead, he presses his forehead to mine, eyes closed and just breathes.
"I could kiss you forever," he murmurs.
"That would interfere with the sightseeing."
He laughs. That easy, bright sound I am becoming addicted to, and finally steps back. But he keeps hold of my hand.
"Come on," he says, tugging me back toward the main hall. "Time to reveal the classified supplies."
He leads me to one of the alcoves along the hall's western wall, where the early evening light slants in through a cracked but intact window. The alcove is sheltered from the worst of the sand, and the stone bench built into the curved wall is still solid. Cody unslings the bag from his shoulder and begins unpacking.
A blanket first, which he shakes out and spreads across the bench and the floor in front of it. Then containers, one after another. A sealed bowl of chariom noodles for me, still hot inside its insulated packaging. A second bowl for himself.
"Mild," he says firmly, pointing at his bowl. "I was very clear when I specified mild."
"And if it is not mild?"
"Then I die with dignity. Surrounded by great architecture."
I press my lips together to keep from laughing.
More containers emerge from the bag. Fried gherro. A small pot of sweet bean paste that I have not tasted since I was a young adult. Two flasks of verak nectar. And something I do not recognize. It is small, dark-brown squares wrapped in a thin, clear material.
