Ren moved deeper into the chamber, his eyes tracing the burned edges of the maps. The silence pressed against him, heavier than the noise of the streets outside. After a while, he stepped back through the doors and returned to the city.
The first day passed in cautious wandering. Verathane unfolded like a maze, its streets curving around the cliffs in patterns that seemed designed to confuse outsiders. Vendors called out from stalls built beneath overhanging stone. Their wares were not the simple goods of common markets. He saw cages of winged reptiles no longer than his arm, each scale patterned with shifting colors. He saw roots that glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat when touched. One merchant sold bottled storms, lightning coiled in glass spheres that cracked faintly with each flicker.
