Stepping through the shadows, Sunny found himself at the summit of the tallest pagoda of the Great Citadel. The towering palace was actually built inside and around the main mast of the Night Garden, surrounding its lower part with a cascade of tiled roofs and graceful terraces.
The terraces themselves were gardens, with emerald grass covering their expanse and ancient trees swaying in the cool breeze. The summit was like a grove, the leaves whispering as they moved above the surface of a quiet pond — this high, there was nothing but the masts of the titanic vessels and the stars above it, so the water reflected the starlit sky, seeming like a fragment of it.
Jet was sitting on the soft grass, leaning against the trunk of a tall tree as she gazed at the distant constellations. She seemed to have adjusted to her life aboard the Night Garden well — she appeared more at ease than usual, at least, enjoying the rare moment of silence in comfortable solitude.
