the king’s palace and the homes of the most important nobles stood. The lords of the new empire gave their subjects a giant metropolis divided into neat, rectangular blocks and zones. The zones were defined by purpose: there was a palace zone, as well as cathedral, residential, craft, trading and amusement zones. No longer a fortress, the Emperor’s palace comprised an entire block of grandiose buildings. The variety of construction materials and the oddly pleasing blend of architectural styles served as an encyclopedia in stone of all the provinces of the vast empire.
When the city was rebuilt, the planners added two new aqueducts and a great cloaca to collect the city’s sewage. Enteveria was full of green gardens and parks, and its residents enjoyed listening to the music of dozens of fountains large and small that played haunting melodies by means of clever hydraulic organs. The capital had the unheard-of luxury of setting aside one-third of its total area for parks and other amusements, instead of housing and manufacturing. It was a giant organism that sucked people in with promises of a carefree life or at least the sense that one was part of the most carefree city in Dashtornis.
Enteveria had two river ports, and its deep, fast-flowing rivers linked it to two different seas. Beamy merchant ships could ride the Fela all the way up to the Sea of Dragons and on, to the barbarian Wasteland and Torgendam in the north. The Fela was a majestic river, and the people of the empire made use of its many tributaries to reach most of the empire’s northern and western provinces.
To the south, the Emperor Lecius had ordered the digging of the Shining Sun Canal, which got its name from the bright flecks of light reflected by its choppy waters. The canal’s waves were not generated by bad weather, but by the host of merchant ships carrying cargo from the Southern Seas. The northern river and its tributaries were, for the most part, the empire’s own inland waterways while the southern routes opened up opportunities for foreign trade. It was the south that brought the empire new goods, new people, new knowledge…and new threats. The religious fanatics of Mustobrim were constantly testing the resolve of the Capotian merchants, who were widely acknowledged to be the best in the business. And it was only the Misty Sea, with its shallow, warm waters and thousands of islands, scattered like pearls, that stood between the empire and the bloodthirsty Arincils, who had made a cult of murder, violence and cruelty. Further to the south was Unguru, a mysterious country of sorcerers who spoke with spirits from the netherworld and could enslave the dead.
In the midst of its bright, attractive, but sometimes horribly dangerous surroundings, the capital of Herandia was the focal point of a centuries-long tradition and order, which was the empire’s chief merit in the eyes of its forty million subjects. A city without walls, Enteveria represented “peace and plenty,” which was the motto of the Herandian ruling house.
Even a foreigner would have had a difficult time getting lost in its streets, which ran straight as an arrow, meeting at right angles in the wide city squares. However, Uni Virando managed to go astray after an hour of wandering aimlessly up and down the streets of smooth Vuravian stone. When he looked up, he had no idea where he was. He did not particularly care. What did it matter if he was lost? He had every reason to believe that his life was effectively over.
“What do I have left?” Uni wondered with a strange sense of detachment. “No job, no position, no personal life, no money, nothing. Just this mortal body with a pile of superfluous knowledge stored in its head and a five-year-old’s knowledge of the world. No one would even notice if I jumped off this bridge. Who needs me, anyway? With the Sun as my witness, only my mother. What can I tell her? That her only son – whom she loved more than anything, whom she raised alone, saving up money for him to attend the academy, her last hope for a decent life in her old age – suddenly threw away everything he had spent years working for? I can’t even imagine telling her that. I’d rather jump off this bridge. She’s better off with no son at all than a ridiculous, worthless son like me.”
“What about my friends? What will they say? ‘Little Uni messed up again.’ Sorgius will be sarcastic, and Vordius will slap my shoulder and look at me with those big, sad eyes of his, like he’s looking at a child that can’t learn its lessons. No, I’d rather jump off this bridge than see that! Fate gave me such wonderful opportunities, and I stupidly let them go. If I’m such a fool that I can’t even manage to make a life for myself, then I’d better end it now. I just need to be brave. And calm. Great Sun, my heart is racing! Breathe in deep, and leap over the railing…”
“Hello, Uni!” the voice that came from the carriage that had just pulled alongside on the bridge was soft, but it seemed to hold the would-be jumper with chains of iron. A well-groomed hand pulled aside the silk curtain with an elegant gesture, and Manelius Ronko gazed at Uni with his usual ironic half-smile. “Were you planning to cool off in the river?”
For a brief instant, the young man felt like he had just eaten a raw octopus and its tentacles were stuck in his throat and stomach. Somewhere deep down, he realized that the Heavenly Deity didn’t want him dead. No, the Deity was so enraged with Uni that it had prepared endless agony for him, each torment worse than the one before it, lasting until the end of the age when the Heavenly Deity would again, as it had many times before, turn every living thing to smoldering ash and build a new world and new people – cleaner, better, more promising – from that ash.
“From the look of you, it would be impolite to ask about the fate of my report,” Ronko said, shaking his head slowly. He waved toward his carriage. “Get in. Watch your head. In the name of the Shining Deity, there’s no reason to be so upset. You need a cup of wine. I have a nice little collection back at my house.”
Feeling absolutely wooden and alien, Uni squeezed his body into the carriage. “Enel Ronko,” he finally found his voice. “I am extremely glad to see you. Your document is ready, but I am not able to hand it to you at present. You can probably retrieve it from Margio, the archive director. I don’t work there anymore, so I’m afraid I can’t do anything to help you. I should have told you as soon as I found out. I did try, but I don’t know where you live. I was given an address, but there was nobody there. I am ashamed to say it, but I didn’t know what to do. There is no excuse for my cowardly behavior.”
Ronko tapped a finger against his chin as he listened. His eyes, which were the color of wet leaves, stared off into space, as if their owner was off in a world of his own.
Then he snapped his fingers. “Take us home.” The carriage started. Ronko turned to Uni and smiled brightly. “You’re right about one thing. I like to be the one who finds people. I don’t like it when they try to find me without my permission. It’s too bad about your report. We won’t ever see it again; I can guarantee you that.”
“What?” Uni jumped. The octopus in his gut was moving again. Even the crown of his head went cold. “How could he refuse to give it to you? I can’t imagine…”
Ronko laughed. “Of course not. He won’t send me to the demons. He isn’t brave enough. But here’s the thing: Margio works for Licisium Dorgoe. He’s probably on his way to the man’s villa as we speak to show your report to his protector. It’s a rare prize.” He gave a wry smile. “Even a rat like Margio can come in useful once in a hundred years!”
“This is all my fault, Enel Ronko. If only I hadn’t been so stupid!”
“What ever do you mean? In any event, it doesn’t matter now. I contacted you directly because I know you and I naively assumed that you could get the job done without your superiors finding out. No matter what happened, it’s not your fault. It was poor calculation on my part. But as I said, it doesn’t matter now.”
Fergius Margio’s carriage performed feats of acrobatics as it glided down the Avenue of the Benevolent Sun, weaving in and out between the slow palanquins carrying idle aristocrats. The driver’s skill did nothing to improve the mental state of the passenger, who clutched a leather manuscript case to his chest as if he feared he would drop it during the obstacle course. Margio only recovered his composure somewhat when his carriage left the narrow city streets behind and its wheels rolled along the neatly laid, colorful tiles of