Saia and Serit spent the three days of navigation mingling with the crew in order to learn as much Arissian as possible. Saia made good progress, helped by the fact that it was a lot more similar to her mother tongue than anticipated. The sailors' stories made her feel guilty about wanting to steal the ship and abandon them. Sure, eventually another vessel would have come looking for the cargo of viserite and brought them back, but the ship was all of their sustenance. Without it, they’d have to look for another job that could include more dangerous navigation across the sea, further from their families, for months instead of weeks and for a lower pay.

She'd been impatient. Just as when she'd told Vizena about the 'no’ gesture, or attacked Serit at Ifse. She didn't know how many of these mistakes she could afford to make, with her viss dwindling at every movement and thought. She needed Aili and Zeles by her side.

What she got instead was another enormous city thousands of towerlengths away from home.

“Land!” someone yelled from the mast minutes before it was visible to the rest of the crew.

Saia emerged from the cabin that she shared with Serit. If it was up to her, she'd have spent the entire voyage on the bridge, observing the sea and the activities around the ship, but a nauseous Serit had pointed out that everyone would have found it strange if she didn't appear to rest at least at night.

A hill emerged from the blue fog of the sky at the horizon. The city reminded Saia of the colorful windows of the temples, except the geometric shapes had been shattered into hundreds, maybe thousands, of little tiles. Dozens of vertical lines grew out from the sea toward the sky, and it took Saia a while to recognize them as the masts of just as many ships crowding the harbor. Each of them had a flag hanging from the top, and when the wind stirred them, they painted the air with bright symbols. The ships were different too, even if some of them recalled each other in shapes and decorations.

She couldn't help but expand her domain as the ship was admitted into the waters of the harbor, protected from the outside world by a barrier of rocks. Then the rats started stirring again at the edges of her consciousness and she was forced to wait and observe, along with everyone else.

Each ship spoke a different language, shouted by the masts and wielded by stern-faced captains. She was surprised by how similar most sailors of each ship were to each other, in physical features as well as clothing, and at the same time so different from the other crews. She saw people dressed in leather and gold lower the sails with their light brown arms, pale faces reddened by the sun and long blond hair drenched in sweat, sailors in long tunics and curly hair decorated by wooden beads that resembled her more than everyone she could see.

The cargos were just as varied as the people, even if she could only see what was being carried out of the holds and opened to be inspected by the port authorities. Clothes covered in delicate embroideries that sometimes traced imagines, sometimes patterns; heavy books and rolled-up documents called ‘scrolls’, as Serit informed her; a single brush with the handle covered in thousands of tiny lines, apparently so fragile that it required an entire chest upholstered in smooth cloth and protected by a heavy lock to be transported.

Once the ship had managed to dock, the inspectors climbed the gangway to see the blocks of viserite up close. The whole operation required remarkably less time compared to the other ships, and the officials left as soon as Deoris produced a document signed by someone with three names too many. He then addressed Saia, ignoring Serit's sweating presence right next to her.

“The captain will supervise the unloading. I’m going to meet Ravisu to communicate that the ship has arrived, she'll be delighted to meet you.”

They followed him down the gangplank and into the chaos of the docks. Saia was glad she couldn't smell the surroundings, with the barrels of fish being rolled around and the pools of suspicious yellowish liquid suspended between the cobblestones. The crowds mingled, any separation imposed by the ships disappearing completely. If it wasn't for the different cuts of clothes and the cacophony of languages, Saia could have thought she was back at the mountain, maybe in the square of a populous northern village. They either came in and out of shops with closed windows that didn't advertise their goods or headed toward the entrance of the city.

It was nothing more than a guarded archway flanked by two huge garlands of leaves hanging from tall wooden poles. The leaves of the garlands were interspersed with smaller objects: a statuette hanging from the bottom, depicting a frog for the garland on the left, some other animal Saia couldn't identify for the one on the right. Two thin golden and blue veils, flowing in the wind like little flags. The painting of a mountainous scene on the left, of the sea on the right, kept suspended by strings at the center of each garland. Other objects half-hidden by the leaves that she didn't bother to identify.

Deoris pointed at them, and Saia had to raise her head to hide the fact she could see without moving.

“The symbols of our city. Every garland is different, a work of art on its own account, but the placement of the objects is important to represent each of the governing families.”

Saia nodded, hoping he would just move on.

As she waded through the crowd, Serit following her closely, she noticed that most of the people around wore gloves and various kinds of head coverings. The ones who didn't either didn't have hair or tied them in elaborate braids kept in place by glass ornaments.

She even saw some tanhata, generally taller than everyone around them. Each time she passed too close to them, they turned their iridescent heads in her direction. As eerie as it was, she could finally see what they had in place of the mouth: nothing. The only holes on their faces were the ones she'd exchanged for eyes.

The road crossed a market, and instead of deviating toward a secondary one, Deoris cut right through the thick of the people. Even with her domain shrunk to the minimum, Saia felt the viss of every single person that brushed against her body. She longed for gloves as well, even if she knew they wouldn't help. It'd have been easy for someone to cut a strand of hair or clasp someone's hand to manipulate them.

The houses to the sides of the road had blunt corners, to the point some of them were completely round, and painted in pastel colors. They often clustered, with multiple structures gathered around a covered yard, the thin roof attached to all the surrounding buildings. The doors were positioned high above the ground and only reachable through a short staircase. Ladders hung from the roofs, the steps sometimes carved straight into the wall.

Saia understood their purpose when she saw three young people running in a line on one of the flat roofs. One of them was a bird person with red feathers that reminded her of a robin, the other two humans. All three of them wore what seemed the most common outfit of the city: a wrap of cloth around their chest and flowy trousers covered by embroideries. She realized some of them were patterns when they jumped down from the roof to one considerably lower, landing without damage and immediately running off.

Paying more attention to the crowd, she could see other examples of patterns being used for everyday tasks: a man put the plucked body of a chicken into a wooden box without a lid with whirly carvings running around the borders, activated the pattern, then loudly proclaimed: “One bottle and a half. It’s ten vissins.”

Saia stopped in her tracks. The transaction went on, nobody noticing her except for Deoris, Serit, and the people trying to wade through the crowd by following her. The woman who was buying the chicken only gave the butcher one coin. Despite the name, it was different from the mountain’s vissins: it was made of two materials, an external circumference of copper and an inner part of gray stone, maybe viserite. The man took it and gave her back three apparently identical vissins, along with the food.

“Something’s the matter?” Deoris asked, his good mood cracking a bit.

Saia shook her head and resumed following him, still thinking about the exchange she’d just witnessed.

They entered a square with a tall fountain at the center depicting a pile of fish jumping in a confused heap toward the sky, while three fishermen of stone looked up in awe. Every fish was shooting a stream of water out of its mouth. The one at the top turned around every few instants as two groups of teens on opposite sides of the fountain activated the many patterns engraved along the border. The stream hit one of them, and the ones that seemed to belong to some sort of opposing team cheered. Two guards in white upper garments and blue trousers approached yelling, and the teens dispersed at every corner of the square, pushing themselves up the ladders with the patterns on their trousers.

Everyone around Saia seemed to know what viss was and how to use it. She tried to imagine the same things happening back home, once the monks were defeated. Or somewhere else, if there weren't enough people willing to live without gods and monks.

Observing the roofs made her notice the top of some tall constructions appearing behind the houses and putting them in shadow. The central road passed right in front of one such building, allowing Saia to take a good look at it: it was a palace of glass, with a large circular base that covered three floors and a cone in the center raising toward the sky, big enough to contain more rooms. While the base and cone were transparent, abstract shapes of colored glass protruded through holes in the main structure, curving toward the outside and distorting what was visible on the inside. It wasn't the tallest of the buildings Saia could spot, but it was certainly the shiniest.

The palace of glass was surrounded by a mostly barren yard. She could see dozens of people walking around between long tables and furnaces, drenched in sweat, while carrying pieces of glass in various stages of melting at the end of metal sticks. A person was standing still in the midst of it all, with a mask of golden cloth covering the top of their head, observing the red-hot pieces of glass passing mere armlengths from them with complete detachment. They checked a pocket clock, then brought an amplifier to their mouth.

“One hour left.”

Saia felt Serit push against her back and realized they were losing Deoris among the crowd. She covered the distance that divided her from him, leaving the palace of glass behind, until another one appeared further down the road.

This one was made entirely of stone, or better, various kinds of stones. Two huge statues flanked the structure, half submerged in it, their bodies covered by the mass of stone of smaller animals. Only their heads of red marble emerged completely, similar to rats but with a larger muzzle, a square nose and small round ears. The one on the right had open jaws that showed sharp fangs, and a raised paw with even more menacing claws.

The other statues filled the rest of the space, apparently holding together the entire structure, even if Saia could spot stretches of barren stone in between. They depicted more animals that she’d never seen, and some that she already knew but in the wrong size, like a giant lizard and a miniature boar.

The central structure ended with three towers standing close together. Their statues seemed to follow a theme: sea animals on the left, birds on the right, while the one at the front was made of human beings.

Deoris entered the courtyard, without any of the staff that lingered around stopping him. Serit stepped carefully behind Saia, looking down to hide the exposed gray skin around their eyes. The entrance was a wide arc at ground level, then a staircase that became progressively narrower led to a second doorway high above, smaller than the first. The reddish rock veined of gray and purple gave the impression of being swallowed alive by some giant creature.

The hall on the other side was all in tones of blue and black. The atmosphere reminded Saia of sinking to the bottom of the sea. A maze of archways and columns sectioned the hall, making it appear simultaneously bigger and smaller than it was. Deoris traced a curved path to the end of hall, where a long table had been set up on a raised platform.

An old woman was sitting alone at an extremity, surrounded by papers and scrolls. Guards with swords were aligned along the walls behind and around her. She rubbed her eyes, took a sip of liquid from a dark cup, then focused again on the document she’d been reading through a hand-held lens. She didn’t seem to hear the echo of their approach, to the point a guard had to step forward and point to alert of their arrival.

Despite being at least as old as Saia's own grandmother, her hair was still mostly black and sleek, cut under the ears and held back by a headband of gold and emeralds. Her face wasn’t crossed by as many wrinkles as she expected to see on a woman of her age, and her black eyes still gleamed with a quiet inquisitiveness.

Deoris stopped and spread his arms in front of him, as if to invite her for a hug.

“Ravisu, how are you feeling? You’re looking good today.”

The woman smiled with the corners of her mouth. She fumbled with something in a pocket of her long trousers, decorated with diamond patterns and flowers in blue and bright purple bordered by white lines, then realized she was already holding the lens. When she raised it to her eye, her smile widened.

“Deoris, my dear. Does it mean that the viserite is already in the harbor?”

The merchant lowered his arms and nodded.

“Of course. Sooner than expected, despite some complications. But I wouldn’t have bothered you by coming here if I only had this to say.”

He turned and gestured for Saia to come forward. Ravisu focused her glass on her. Serit stayed behind.

“She's a master sculptor," Deoris said, shifting from Arissian to Shilizé. "She can shape viserite with her bare hands. I believe not even your descendants can yet achieve that.”

Ravisu examined Saia for a long time.

“What do you have to say, dear?” she asked in the end.

Saia hadn't realized she was supposed to speak. She didn't care for that conversation at all, unless it gave her the chance to get a ship.

“It's true,” she said. “But my skills come at a cost.”

Deoris recoiled as if she'd just insulted his whole family. Ravisu started laughing instead.

“We're speaking Shilizé, so I suppose you come from far enough that you don't know much about our city. Let me assure you that the money you seek will come, once you’re part of our family. If you're such a fine sculptor as Deoris says, it won't be difficult for you to win the contest.”

Saia made a point of moving her eyes between Ravisu and Deoris.

“I’m only here for one thing: a ship that will lead me to mount Ohat. Nothing else.”

Ravisu frowned in concern and looked at the merchant as if asking whether she was mentally sound.

"Maybe we can bring here a block for her to sculpt," he said. "So you can see why I introduced her to you despite her ignorance of our customs."

Saia glared at him.

“Well, I need a break,” Ravisu said. “Bring here some viserite.”

One of the guards detached from the wall and disappeared beyond an archway. Deoris and Ravisu spoke in Arissian about other matters, like an incoming meeting of the families or the rising cost of provisions for the ship.

A distant rolling sound approached, the echo amplified by the archways. The guard returned, pushing a cart barely big enough to support the piece of viserite it contained. The guard left it in front of Saia before returning to his post.

She stepped forward under Ravisu’s focused gaze, amplified by the lens. She touched the rock and started changing its shape into something humanoid.

“Don’t overdo it,” Serit murmured.

Saia ran her hands along the stone as she worked, even if she only really needed her memories of Filsun’s viss. She imitated the patterns of his body until the top of the block had the shape of his head in solid form.

Ravisu stood slowly and approached the sculpture.

“Impressive details, and in such a short time!”

Deoris smiled wide at Saia, her blunder apparently forgotten.

“Can you sculpt a horse, now?” Ravisu asked.

Saia complied. She remembered a bit how viss moved inside the sprites, after hours of riding them back and forth between Iriméze and Ifse. Still, she had not memorized their patterns and their possible variations to make the horse look realistic. She managed to reproduce the general shape of one, but little else.

“I admit I was expecting something more,” Ravisu commented, passing an index on the smooth surface of the muzzle, deprived of eyes and with only a crack in place of the mouth.

“She needs to study the subject accurately before reproducing it,” Serit explained.

“So does everyone,” Ravisu replied, returning to her chair.

“What about the technique itself?” Deoris asked. “I believe nobody is as fast without using any tools.”

“True, but you know the nature of the contest. The subject is only revealed right before the start, and it’s not always a simple request like mine. That said,” she faced Saia, “I hope you’ll still accept to participate. We can put to good use skills like yours.”

Saia was about to protest, when someone interrupted her.

"What's going on here?"

The voice was deep and soft at the same time. Saia spotted a person entering the area of the table from behind an archway. They looked extremely attractive, with large brown eyes that seemed to smile at her and pierce her soul at the same time. Their hair formed dark waves down to their middle back, kept completely free from ornaments, braids, or anything else that could constrain them. They were tall, wearing a green cloth around the chest and long trousers in the style of most people in Aressea. Their arms were all muscle and nerves, thin but strong-looking, hands free of gloves or any sort of protection.

Deoris stepped closer to Saia.

"Please don't say anything, I don't want any blunders with him,” he whispered, voice so quiet Saia didn't think she'd have heard him without her enhanced perception.

“Thank you for the concern, merchant," the man said as he approached. "But I've already heard everything, and I'm intrigued. A sculptor that doesn't need tools and..."

He narrowed his eyes, looking at Serit. They retracted behind Saia, but it was too late.

"And a cloud person. Incredible," the man said. "I was under the impression you were all stuck above the clouds."

"We are," Serit said, looking at the floor, bent forward to the point the top of their head brushed against Saia's back. "I'm a rare exception."

The man smiled, eyes still narrowed. Ravisu peered through her lens at what was visible of Serit.

"Who are you?" Saia asked the man.

Deoris tensed, but he didn't say anything.

“Beramas. You’re going to hear a lot about me if you’re staying in the city. I've heard you're looking for a ship to mount Ohat?"

Saia nodded.

“I’ve tried multiple times to cross, and believe me, if I can't then nobody can. Not by ship, of course, nor by jumping down from a cloud city. It's like there's an invisible wall built around it. You'd better off giving up and joining the Neydis family."

"A ship reached it, I've seen it,” Saia said.

Serit tugged at the back of her tunic.

"Careful," they whispered, but they weren't quiet enough. Beramas’s head tilted to the side, as if he wanted to hear better.

"I've talked to them," Saia amended.

"And they didn't tell you how to cross? Couldn't you buy a passage from them?"

"No," Saia admitted.

Beramas smiled wider with his lips, chin raising in contempt. He turned to Ravisu.

"I've selected the statue we need. I'll send someone to pay and carry it to the weavers' palace."

Ravisu nodded.

"Very well. Let us know if it satisfies your expectations.”

“I will. Deoris, right?" Beramas said while looking at him. "I need to talk to you about those blocks of viserite you have in the harbor.”

The merchant nodded and finally left Saia's side to walk out the door with him. She could see he wasn't speaking much, only nodding and going along with what Beramas was saying.

"So I can expect your presence at our contest, dear?" Ravisu said, addressing Saia.

Serit stepped forward before she could say anything and raised their cupped hands, as if they were greeting a representative.

"We'll do our best to be present, madam."

She adjusted the lens closer to her eye.

"Are you another sculptor? We never had a sculptor from the cloud people before."

They glanced at Saia.

"No, I'm just an assistant."

"I understand. You're peculiar, both of you. I hope to see you again soon.”

She put down the lens and picked up the same document she'd been reading when they'd first come in. Saia understood the discussion was over. She turned toward the door, a confused Serit trailing behind her.

"I expected a more elaborate protocol of departure,” they said once they were out of the building.

"Why did you say that?” Saia asked. “You know I can't wait around for a month, I need a ship now."

"We don't know how this city works, nor if you'll find a ship without rats on board. It's better if we don't cut all ties with a powerful person just because you're impatient."

"I'm not just impatient. My village was attacked. My friends and family are still there, I have to help them."

They crossed the courtyard and found themselves back on a secondary road. Saia could still see Deoris walking beside Beramas in the distance. She decided to follow the merchant: he'd have to go back to his ship at some point, leading them to the harbor. From there, she could ask around for a passage if not to mount Ohat, at least to a closer city than Aressea was.

The road ended in a large square. The crowd was thicker along the borders, leaving a mostly empty space at the center. Saia was surprised by the quiet: everyone was either whispering or watching ahead in silence, creating an atmosphere that was more suited to a temple than a big city. She pushed forward with more decisiveness, not wanting to let Deoris out of her sight, but he had stopped too at the limit of the empty area, where the people were forming a barrier. Beramas kept walking, their discussion apparently forgotten. The crowd jumped out of his way as soon as they saw his face. Saia followed the empty trail he left behind, and immediately stopped.

In front of her, at the center of the square, there was a dog extremely similar to the one on the ship, except for a few eerie details: it was walking on its hind legs, wearing a cloth and trousers, and it greeted Beramas with a perfectly human voice. A dog person, she realized.

Behind them trailed an impressively varied group of animals: three dogs like the ones she’d seen on the ship walked in front of a bull with horns pointing forward, covered in wiry gray fur. To its flanks, keeping a good distance from the powerful hooves, three smaller creatures advanced together. They were vaguely similar to rats, except for their soft tails of brown fur. They had a shape like a dark mask around the eyes. Their fangs escaped the confinement of their mouth and crisscrossed on the outside, to the point Saia wondered how they could even close their jaws. Cream-coloured rodents with flat tails and red eyes followed them, their clawed paws ticking on the cobblestones.

The procession was closed by a normal-looking donkey pulling a cart, surrounded by rats like the ones on the ship. A boy was laying inside it, belly down, chains securing him to the pulling bar. He was resting his head on the wood, looking at the crowd as if it wasn't there, an eye so swollen it was closed shut and a rivulet of blood caught between his lips. His eyes widened when he saw Saia, as they recognized each other.

"Morìc," she whispered.

Beramas turned with the expression of someone who had just heard an explosion.