She emerged into a lavish, dark-green stone hallway, tall and ornate with elaborate gold molding running along the top. There were white wooden doors dotting the green stone walls, all perfectly circular with black iron handles in the middle. It was clearly a residential wing of the Mountain, and there was some kind of radiant light at the end of the hallway.
Sancia walked toward it. Then she saw what lay beyond, and gasped.
The Mountain, she realized, was a giant shell. And being inside of it was like being inside a hollowed-out…
Well. Mountain.
She stared at the rings and rings of floors beyond, all gold and green and shimmering, all lined with windows as the people within them lived and worked and toiled. She was four floors above the main level of the space, which was indescribably vast, lit by massive, brilliant floating lanterns carved of glass and crystal. Huge brass columns ran in staggered formations across the marble floor — and some of the columns appeared to be moving, sliding up or down. It took her a moment to realize the columns were actually hollow, and had tiny rooms in them that rose or fell, ferrying people up to dangling stations above. Those must be the lifts Orso mentioned, she thought. Huge banners hung in between the stations, the giant, bright-gold Candiano loggotipo glimmering in the glow of the scrived lights below. All of it formed an endless, circling wall of light and color and movement.
It was like another world, just like Orso had said. And all of it was enabled by…
The side of her head grew bright hot and her eyes watered. She gritted her teeth as the sound of so many scrivings hit her, drilling into her, biting into her mind.
<Okay, hold on,> said Clef.
<It’s…it’s too much, Clef!> she cried. <It’s too much, it’s too much! I can’t bear it, I can’t bear it!>
<Hold on, hold on!> said Clef. <Your talents are a two-way connection — I can share your mind just as my thoughts can barge into yours. Let’s see if I can bear the load for you…>
The eruption of murmurs warbled, then diminished rapidly, until it was a bearable level — though it did not vanish.
She gasped, relieved. <What did you do, Clef?>
<It’s sort of like the canals,> said Clef. <When one gets too full, it dumps water into another. Now all that noise is going into me. God…I knew it was bad for you, kid, but not this bad.>
<Are you all right? Can you bear it?>
<I can for now.>
<And…is it damaging you more?>
<Everything’s damaging me more. Come on. Let’s stop wasting time and go.>
Sancia rose, took a breath, and started off into the Mountain.
Gregor carefully navigated through the outer paths of the Candiano campo. He stuck to the edges of the streets, moving through the shadows. It was an odd experience — he’d never really spent much time on other campos before.
He saw the cross-streets Orso had described ahead. He started across a small square toward it — but then he paused ever so slightly.
Gregor abruptly turned right, away from the cross-streets. He walked to a small alley, stepped into a doorway, and stopped and watched the square and the streets around him.
There was no one. Yet he’d suddenly had an overpowering feeling that someone had been following him — there’d been a movement somewhere, out of the corner of his eye.
He waited, not moving. Perhaps I imagined it, he thought. He waited a bit longer. I need to hurry, he thought. Or else Sancia will try to jump off the Mountain with nowhere to fly to. He walked to the cross-streets, knelt, and started installing the anchor in the cobblestone.
What struck Sancia most about the Mountain was not just the size of the thing, but also the emptiness of it. She roved through huge banquet halls with vaulted ceilings, indoor gardens with pink, circling floating lanterns, immense counting offices filled with rows and rows of desks — and most were almost empty, occupied by only one or two people. She’d heard rumors that the Mountain was haunted, but maybe it just felt haunted because it seemed so abandoned.
<Candiano really is on the decline,> said Clef.
<No kidding.>
She knew she needed to find a lift, and she needed to use it without attracting attention. She finally found a more populated segment of the Mountain, full of residents and employees. They sped past her or ambled this way and that as they went about their daily lives, ignoring her; but then, they would — Orso had supplied her with clothing that made her look like a mid-level functionary.
She spied a few important-looking young men and followed them until they finally came to a lift. They stood around, waiting on the little room to arrive, and chatted in bored tones. Finally the round brass doors opened for them — presumably the rig checked their blood to make sure they could use it — and they walked inside, chatting and gesturing. Then the doors shut, and the lift rose.
<I’ll catch the next one,> she thought.
<This place is…strange,> said Clef.
<Yeah, no shit.>
<No, I mean I feel this pressure, like we’re in a room with too much air. It’s hard to explain — and I’m not even sure I understand it.>
The lift doors opened again, and she stepped inside. There was a brass panel by the door, with a round dial set in the middle. The dial was labeled with numbers running from 1 to 15, and it was currently pointed at 3. <It doesn’t go all the way up,> she thought.
<Then go as far as you can, I guess.>
She set the dial to 15, and the doors shut and the lift began to rise.
<So we just keep taking lifts until we get to thirty-five,> Clef said. <Easy. Hopefully.>
They rode in silence.
Then Sancia heard a voice. It was just like when she heard Clef’s voice — but this voice was not Clef’s. It was the voice of an imperious old man, and his words echoed loudly in her head as he said, <A Presence felt. But…unknown.>
Sancia nearly fell over with shock. She stared around herself, and confirmed they were alone in the lift.
<Clef?> she asked. <What the hell was that, what the hell was that!>
<You heard it too?> he said. He sounded just as shocked as she was. <The voice?>
<Yeah! Has…Has that ever happened befo—>
<Words…Words, I hear,> boomed the old man’s voice. <A Presence is found…and located. A lift. Escalation?>
<Uh-oh,> said Clef.
The doors of the lift opened. Sancia walked out onto the fifteenth floor, which appeared to be more industrial than residential. Everything here was blank gray stone and iron doors and pipes. A sign above read SCRIVING BAY 13.