“With these obscured windows,” Zogar whispers in my ear, “we won’t know where he’s taking us.” He drapes his arm over my shoulders, and our seat adjusts, again.
I take his dangling hand in both of mine, stroking it gently. The loud sounds of the city have vanished, replaced by birdsong and the rustling of trees, like we’re in the forest we’re seeing.
“Was this limo made using magic?” I ask Zogar.
He shakes his head but then tips it to the side. “Not exactly. Elves don’t require magic to create such things. Not magic like I have. An elf’s connection to the forest gives theminfluence, power, I suppose, over the natural world. Elves and fae are able to use nature in ways most cannot.”
I touch a grass-covered panel below one of the windows, and every blade feels as real as any I’ve touched. I’m tempted topluck one, but my instincts tell me I shouldn’t. It’s a living thing. And it’s part of thisvéhicule,this limo.
“What does Eldrath want to discuss?” I ask Zogar.
“I don’t know.” He frowns, slightly. “But I don’t believe he means us ill will.” Raising his eyebrows, Zogar nods toward the panel separating us from Faolán.
My eyebrows rise too. My husband thinks the driver is listening. And based on what he said about elves’ connections to nature, perhaps the entire limo is listening. I remain silent for the rest of the trip, enjoying the fresh, forest-tinged air, the slight breeze on my skin, and the familiar textures of Zogar’s hand, held in mine.
CHAPTER 12
Rosomon
Faolán opens the limo’s door, and the building outside is even more astounding than the car that brought us. At first glance, it seems similar to every other building in this city—except much taller. But the structure seems alive, as if it’s not comprised of steel but living vines that stretch up toward the sky. As I look, the building seems to be moving, almost like it’s breathing.
Faolán ushers us inside, and I gasp as I take in the vast atrium. If I didn’t know I was in a structure—in a city—I would once again swear I was in a forest. Birds fly above, and my attention is drawn to a bright yellow butterfly flying over a nearby bed of flowers. It lands on a vibrant purple petal.
“Are these trees real?” I ask Faolán, looking up again. Some branches are piercing through what must be the floor of the level above us, and more tree roots snake through the high ceiling amongst the leaves and moss there.
“They’re very real,” Faolán responds. “Some of our forest friends agreed to reside here and assist in this building’s construction. It helps make us feel comfortable in the city.”
He says this as if it’s all I need to know to understand what I’m seeing. As if I should be able to comprehend how plants and animals, even water, couldconsentto help construct a tall building. I don’t need to know how this place works, or how elves create their surroundings, but my curiosity to learn urges me to ask more questions.
But sensing that Faolán shared all he cares to, I keep my lips shut, my hand firmly inside Zogar’s, as I drink in every beautiful detail.
Faolán leads us toward elevator doors made of silver, intricately cast with scenes of elven culture and inlaid with gems. Over the few moments we wait for the doors to open, I swear the surface of the doors’ change, as if the figures depicted are moving. But the changes are so subtle I’m unsure what I saw.
We enter the elevator cab, and once again, it’s like being inside a forest. The only part of this elevator that matches the style of this city is the metal panel of buttons. Technology. That’s the word I’ve heard to describe the mechanical things that seem to me like magic. The panel’s numbers go from forty to sixty-seven, and Faolán presses the button for sixty-seven. Does that mean we’re going all the way to the top?
The elevator moves, and my stomach drops as if my skin moved faster than my insides. After the initial jolt, I feel normal for a few seconds, but then my ears pop, as if they were blocked by consumption. I shift my jaw to clear them, and then the cab’s floor rises up, shrinking my legs for a second as it slows. Thisisn’t my first ride in an elevator, but it’s the first one that’s gone up so high, and so quickly.
The doors slide open, and Zogar tightens his grip on my hand as we exit. The space we enter is once again unlike anything I’ve seen. It’s as if nature and technology have merged together to create this space.
Elegantly arched metal shapes twine with vines to create the illusion of leaves growing out of metal. And every piece of furniture appears to be formed from plants—living plants—cleverly combined with metal and covered in cushions. Some cushions are covered in moss, others in soft fabrics.
But what really steals my breath is the view.
“Would you like to look more closely?” Eldrath’s voice drifts into my awareness, even though I’ve not yet seen him.
He steps from behind a waterfall that cascades from at least forty feet above us, almost as if it’s falling from the sky. The ceiling above us is clear, likely glass, and I can’t imagine what the source of the water might be. I have so many questions I can’t voice any single one.
“Do you mean the view?” Zogar asks in my stead.
“Yes,” Eldrath says.
“I’d like to take a closer look ateverything.” My chest and mind are overflowing with wonder.
Eldrath smiles. “Come.” His tall, elegant frame crosses the room toward a window so expansive I can’t begin to imagine how such a large piece of glass was created. The glaziers in the City of Darkness must have talents far exceeding those in the Light. Thewindow’s so clear, my nerves rise as I approach it, my mind not trusting that it’s actually there.
Zogar solidifies his hold on my hand, as if he too fears falling. Zogar can fly, but I don’t think he can shift forms midair.
Eldrath stops in front of the wall of windows, comprised of very large sections of glass, so artfully joined that any seams between panes aren’t visible.
