he didn’t see me flinching and wincing every time it seemed like he was about to squash someone into roadkill.
Like everyone else in the universe, I’d seen lots of pictures of Avalon. You could find about a thousand guide books dedicated to the city—I had two in my luggage—and just about every fantasy movie ever made has at least one or two scenes that were filmed on location in Avalon, it being the only place in the mortal world where magic actually works. But seeing Avalon in person kind of reminded me of seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time: no photograph on earth could do it justice.
Avalon is situated on a mountain. Yes, a real, honest-to-goodness mountain. The thing juts up into the sky out of the flat, green, sheep-dotted countryside, and it looks like someone grabbed one of the Alps and haphazardly dropped it where it most definitely did not belong.
Houses and shops and office buildings had been built into every square inch of the mountain’s slopes, and a single paved road spiraled from the base to the castle-like structure that dominated the summit. There were lots of lesser cobblestone roads that led off that main one, but the main road was the only one big enough for cars.
The base of the mountain is completely surrounded by a thick, murky moat, the moat surrounded by a high, electrified fence. There are only four entrances to the city itself, one at each point of the compass. My dad was supposed to meet me at the Southern Gate. The taxi driver dropped me off at the gatehouse—a three-story building about a half a block long—and I felt another pang of apprehension as I watched him drive away. It was possible for cars to pass through the gates into Avalon, but the driver would have to have an Avalon visa to be allowed through. Backpack over one shoulder, I dragged my suitcase through a series of rat mazes, following the signs for visitors. Naturally, the lines for residents were all much shorter.
By the time I got to the head of the line, I was practically asleep on my feet, despite the anxiety. There was a small parking lot just past the checkpoint, and like at the airport, I could see people standing around there with placards. But as I waited for the customs official to stamp my passport, I still didn’t see my name on any of them.
“One moment, miss,” the customs official said, after having examined my passport for what seemed like about ten years. I blinked in confusion as he then walked away from his post, carrying my passport.
My throat went dry as I saw him talk to a tall, imposing woman who wore a navy-blue uniform—and a gun and handcuffs on her belt. It went even drier when the official gestured at me and the woman looked in my direction. Sure enough, she started heading my way. I saw that the official had handed her my passport. This didn’t seem like a good sign.
“Please come with me, Miss…” She opened the passport to check. “Hathaway.” She had a weird accent, sort of British, but not quite. Meanwhile, the customs official gestured for the next person in line.
I had to step closer to the woman to avoid getting trampled by the family of five that came up to the desk behind me.
“Is there a problem?” I asked, and though I tried to sound nonchalant, I think my voice shook.
She smiled, though the expression didn’t reach her eyes. She also reached out and put her hand on my arm, leading me toward a key-carded door in the side of the building.
I tried to reach for the handle of my suitcase, but some guy in a coverall got there before me. He slapped a neon orange tag on it, then hauled it off behind the official’s desk.
I wondered if I should be making a scene. But I decided that would just dig whatever hole I was in deeper.
“Don’t be afraid,” the woman said, still towing me toward the door. Well, I suppose she wasn’t really towing me. Her touch on my arm was light, and it was more like she was guiding me. But I had the feeling that if I slowed down, it wouldn’t feel like guiding anymore. “It’s standard procedure here to conduct interviews with a certain percentage of our visitors.” Her smile broadened as she swiped her key card. “It’s just your lucky day.”