The Gold in the Dark

Chapter Seven

It took a few more hours to reach the outskirts of Haplyr, and then they still had to make their way into the city proper. Hygot's capital was situated in a highly defensible position between two Sheserp River tributaries, which flowed from the mountains to the north and converged just south of the city. As the carriage reached the wide bridge connecting the banks, Tia stared at the murkhound statues posted at each end of the bridge. They were enormous and weathered, the murkhounds' muzzles bared to reveal slavering tongues and the beasts' famous, giant fangs.

"The ancients thought they would put any invaders on edge," Master Maaj said, catching her staring.

"I can see why," she replied, shivering as they passed between the statues.

The light began to fade as the carriage wound its way through the city. The Haplyr streets bent this way and that, gnarled as tree roots. They were evidence of Haplyr's humble beginnings and gradual expansion over the course of hundreds of years. It was not a city that had been drawn up first on an architect's map, but instead had built and rebuilt itself after fires, plagues, and the occasional violence from regime changes. Apartments and shops piled on top of one another in a great jumble, as if each new layer of the city were pushing the next down into the ground, condemning its forbears to a fate of fossilization and eventual disintegration into dust.

She could only stare transfixed at the new world just outside the confines of the carriage. Haplyr was calling for her to explore, to get lost in its maze. Through the open window she could hear the calls of a priest imploring passersby to acknowledge the providence of Pelas with a donation, and then the faint strains of a bawdy tavern song. A gang of small children ran pell-mell down the street, hooting with laughter, and a woman with hair undone and lips and cheeks stained red called out to a man strolling down the street before melting into the shadow of an alley.

"Our fair city is rough around her edges," Master Maaj said. "I beg you to not judge Haplyr by the outer quarters. Our destination is closer to the palace, in the Firefly Hollow district. You'll find it more civilized than these streets, I daresay." She hoped so. If the academy were in a dangerous area and her parents found out, Tia already knew it would be back to Fenlick straightaway.

The city stretched out far, and as the carriage slowly traversed from borough to borough they ate snacks as their supper, so as to make good time to the academy. The further they drove into the city, the wider the streets grew, the lay of the road more and more even. The buildings lining the streets were dignified in their old age rather than crumbling, and she spied many couples and families enjoying the night's cool summer breeze as they took an evening stroll. Street vendors hawked freshly cut melon strips as fiddle and flute players took song requests for a copper. She craned her neck this way and that, trying to catch a glimpse of the palace between the buildings, but the light was fading too fast to see clearly.

The carriage made an abrupt turn down a wide boulevard just as the last rays of sunlight fled the sky. By this point, Tia could scarcely believe she was still in the same city, so different were the structures here from the outer quarters. Stone buildings to each side of the street soared into the sky, and gargoyles and filigree made every roof an exquisite, fearsome work of art. It seemed that every minute they were passing a mosaicked public square or a towering, sculptured fountain. Tia guessed from the architecture that the academy was close by.

"And here we are," Master Maaj announced, confirming her suspicions. She'd been silent in her gaping, but now she couldn't help a small gasp. Could this really be it?

The academy of the Royal Dance Theater was at once intimidating and inviting in its beauty. The academy itself was a sprawling building crafted of creamy marble, fronted with pillars engraved with images of people in slumber—no doubt in tribute to Jopha, goddess of dreams and divine patron of the arts. The front drive of the academy was flanked on either side by a manicured lawn and gardens, seemingly maintained down to each blade by an obsessive, zealous landscaper. Glass lamps of pale blue were scattered here and there around the gardens, and true to the Firefly Hollow name, lightning bugs winked on and off merrily. The whole effect gave the impression that a flock of fairies had descended for an evening dinner party amongst the lilies and roses.