Prologue : City

Miss Tanith walked down the boardwalk, Molly trailing behind her. "Hurry up, girl!" she called, not unkindly, turning back to look at her.

Molly nodded and lugged their wheeled suitcases faster . . . well, a little faster, but it was the best she could do. Their wheels clicked and clacked on the close - laid boards, which was a comforting sound to Molly because it was like a horse's hooves on the paths she knew around Miss Tanith's estate. The hiss and wail of the steam train was also familiar to Molly, though not as familiar as the click and tick of the suitcases, because the late night trains passed close by the estate -- or close enough that Molly could hear them on those late nights when she laid awake, denied sleep by the endlessly interesting sounds around her. The wailing of their whistles disturbed her -- made her think of awful crimes, and she shivered then in remembrance of those lonely nights.

"Molly!" said Miss Tanith curtly.

Molly, abruptly jerked from her reverie, looked blindly about as if she had been unceremoniously dumped onto that spot from her comfortable bed. "What, Miz Tanith?" she asked, as politely as she could, though it had been impossible to get even a bit of rest on the train, with the clacking of the wheels and the wail of the whistle.

"You almost stepped into the street," said Miss Tanith. "Now come along, that's Uncle's carriage over there."

Molly stepped as lively as she could through the crowded street to the carriage Miss Tanith was climbing into. She put the suitcases in the care of the driver, an aged man of somewhere between thirty and sixty, and got into the carriage with Miss Tanith.

Also in the carriage was a man whom Miss Tanith introduced to her as Uncle Robert, who greeted Miss Tanith with warmth, and a woman, who introduced herself to Molly as Anamaria, Uncle Robert's maidservant.

"Why, where have you come from, Molly?" asked Anamaria, deftly brushing dust from Molly's jacket and skirt.

"Miz Tanith lives in the Outlands," said Molly as demurely as she could, glancing nervously at Miss Tanith herself. She was engaged in conversation with Uncle Robert.

"And where do you live, then?" said Anamaria, now straightening Molly's sleeves. "The sky?"

Molly blushed deeply and immediately felt guilty and embarrassed for blushing in front of this higher - ranking servant. "I live with Miz Tanith," she said, and restrained herself from feeling her face to be sure it was not, in fact, on fire.

"I see," said Anamaria. "Well then, tell me why you're here. Master Robert and Miz Tanith don't give a care if you say, and I would dearly like to hear."

Molly embarked on the telling of her brief life's story.

"I have been with Miz Tanith for three years," said she, "and Miz Margaret, her daughter, took sick a while ago, and so I was obliged to come here with her to see her daughter, and it was a terribly long train journey."

"What, you've never trained in to the city before?" asked Anamaria.

"No," said Molly. "I've never left the Outlands before."

Anamaria paled for a moment. "The Outlands?"

"Yes," said Molly. Having no idea what she ought to say next, she stared out the window of the carriage into the streets.

It was such a remarkable world, these . . . Inlands, Molly supposed they would be called. This capitol city, into which all trade flowed. Carriages and men on horseback crowded the street, with a light level of air traffic some twenty or thirty feet above, just over the roofpeaks.

In the Outlands, it was not unusual to see a woman in pants if she were going out riding, nor was it unusual to see a servant dressed immodestly for ease of washing up. Here, though --

A centaur trotted down the middle of the street, clothed in nothing but a flowing, voluminous shirt - dress which was cut to just above the hooves. Above her flew a man with wings, who was clothed quite sensibly in loose pants and a button - up shirt.

And yet, all around were a full range of bizarre dress and behavior. Molly concentrated on the familiar dress of the servants.

The carriage clattered to a stop, and Molly looked about her in surprise. That was one of her worse qualities, that tendency to daydream.

"Come along," said Miss Tanith, and Molly stepped out of the carriage.

It was loud. The train station had been full of hustle and bustle, what with the steam engines and the chatter of people, but this city; this city was loud, with the clatter of hooves on cobblestone -- which was familiar to Molly, but not in such amounts as here -- the endless loud chatter of the people in the streets, and the endless noise of carriage wheels, steam train whistles, and clattering shoes.

But Molly had no time to stare at the wonders of the city; Anamaria was already tugging impatiently at her arm, suitcases in hand, while Miss Tanith chatted with Uncle Robert.

"Come along," said Anamaria. "What's so interesting?"

Molly said nothing, but took hers and Miss Tanith's suitcases from Anamaria and followed her inside.