the line of them was easily traceable across the span. Only the blighted buildings had been repaired, looking newer now than the rest. The guild of craftsmen Soter had mentioned were indeed wizards if these were what their creations looked like when new. The pigments inside the sugar shells glowed as if with an inner light, an illusion created by the refracting layers of confection. People clustered before new buildings, chattering, admiring. In one courtyard she came upon a flock of children licking the side of a tall house while others scooted up a tree to break off the orange marzipan leaves and drop them to their friends below. It was strange, otherworldly, and perfectly natural. Everywhere stood statues, and all seemed to be the work of the same sculptor, who captured citizens of Colemaigne in lifelike poses. These looked older, too, not part of the regeneration.
“Would they know any stories?” Diverus asked her as they stood watching the children. He had grown tired from all the walking in circles—endlessly it seemed to him. While she had slept and rejuvenated after her encounter with Edgeworld, he had slept fitfully if at all and would on this occasion have preferred to stay behind. He had also begun to worry that they would not be able to find their way back through the maze of alleys and lanes they had traversed. He was certainly lost.
“I’m sure they know some,” she replied. “But Colemaigne’s an ancient span. There has to be someplace where people gather and tell their tales. It’s been that way on every span, and even on Bouyan, on an island where nothing ever happens. The villagers had a house for storytelling.”
“What if it’s at the far end, your gathering place?” His tone clearly conveyed his opinion that they should stop looking for now.
“It’s possible, I suppose, though I can’t believe there’s only one such place on a span this long.”
“But it was damaged, and performance forbidden for years.”
“That’s true. Such places may not be easy to find. Maybe I should scale one of the towers. Maybe I could see something from up there.”
“You’ve done that before, then. I remember you saying—” He broke off before he added right before you were snared by the gods.
“Before you joined us,” she said.
He speculated, “What if the stories here all lie in the upside-down city?” and was surprised when she clutched his arm, bringing him to a stop. “What is it?” he asked, glancing around, expecting there was something to behold.
“You saw that, too?”
He nodded. “When we went to carry you off the dragon beam. There were buildings in the shadows under the span, hanging from the span. I thought it was a reflection until I realized it didn’t match the span above at all.”
“I remember it—one of the few things I do remember. Just for a moment, and then the sky was flashing and I looked up and . . . then I woke up in that room.”
“A man came out of one of those houses. He was blue and he was walking upside down. He should have fallen into the sea but he didn’t. He came to the edge and he waved to me. And then he was gone.” Suddenly he wasn’t tired any longer, but strangely roused by the memory.
“How can we get there, do you suppose?”
Diverus thought for a moment. “Well, although it’s on the wrong side, there is the opening where the goods from the ship were hauled up. Remember how they were hauled out of sight under the street?”
“Where we climbed the stairs,” she exclaimed. “We need to go back there, Diverus.”
“You think that’s a way in?” he asked.
“We have to see. It could be it’s the only way in.”
Finding their way back to the point of their arrival proved easy. They had only to follow the trail of gleaming resurrected buildings. The line of renewal led back to the square where Leodora and Diverus had arrived. Even that had been transformed. The fountain where Soter had sat had been repointed, the stone animal figures in the center had been polished, their details freshly chiseled. Leodora could count the feathers on the roc, the scales on the dragon. It was a fabulous fountain now, and behind it lay a garden full of blossoms, purple and white. People lazed in the garden, sprawled here and there, some entwined, as if drugged into a stupor. Now and then one person picked a blossom and fed it to his partner,