Agira Lahsa, the hidden city, was hidden no more. Ella watched as it materialized out of the hazy desert sky, rising from the sands as the swift Buchalanti ship approached.
Ella had seen this city when it was little more than a series of blocks jutting out of the sand. Now the walls were complete, the great amphitheater rebuilt, bigger than any arena in Sarostar. An enormous archway with a tower on each side framed the paved road to the city’s entrance, splitting as it left the city, with a fork heading down to the sturdy dock and a second road wandering out into the desert.
It was getting dark, and the palms that marked the low oases dotting the landscape around Agira Lahsa became silhouetted by crimson rays. The first stars appeared in the sky, and Ella breathed in the cool, dry air as she tilted her head back and looked up at the sky. Nowhere in Merralya, not even in the icy north, were there stars like those in the Hazara Desert. They pricked the night’s curtain in ones and twos, and then in their hundreds. Soon a swath of constellations swept from one horizon to the other.
Ilathor joined Ella at the rail. “Beautiful, is it not?”
The six-week journey from Seranthia had been smooth, with fair weather and pleasant conversation. Ilathor never finished the proposal Killian’s arrival had interrupted, and it hung in the air between them. Ella had departed Seranthia swiftly and didn’t see Killian again.
If he’d tried to find out at all, Killian would know she’d left in Ilathor’s company.
“Glorious,” Ella said in response to Ilathor. She knew she couldn’t do anything to endanger the kalif’s help. If Altura called, the desert warriors’ speed on horseback meant they would be able to respond to a distress call faster than anyone except the Alturans and Halrana who would already be there.
As the Buchalanti ship tied up at the dock, Ella again examined Agira Lahsa, awed at how much it had changed since the last time she’d seen it. Spires and minarets clustered around a series of domes, structures as exotic as the desert men themselves. She squinted against the failing light and saw a band of riders coming down from the city gate, all the figures perfectly spaced from one another.
The riders sped down to the dock and drew up, the group halting as a single Hazaran rode forward. He drew his scimitar and held it in the air in salute. Ella smiled when she saw his lean form and long black hair, the ship’s lights glinting from the silver circlet at his brow.
“Jehral! Come aboard, you rogue!” Ilathor called. Ella saw the warmth in his eyes that she only saw when he was with his most loyal aide.
Jehral slipped gracefully off his horse and was first up the gangway as the ship made fast and the Buchalanti sailmaster called out instructions for unloading.
Jehral embraced Ilathor and then Ella. “It’s good to see you, Enchantress,” he said.
“You too, Jehral.”
Ella saw Jehral shoot a look of inquiry at Ilathor, who shook his head imperceptibly. “Ella is here to build a new signaling system the Alturans have devised,” the kalif said.
“Your presence here is most welcome.” Jehral bowed with a flourish. “Shall I call a palanquin?”
“A horse is fine with me.”
“Always one to do anything a man can do,” Jehral said, grinning. “You’ve been missed, Ella.”
They soon disembarked, Ilathor leading the column up the road, passing between the towers and heading into the city, raising his arm and waving as Hazaran men and women called out and bowed as he rode past. Ella smiled and shook her head. She couldn’t help but wonder whether Killian accepted the same treatment. Killian was the emperor and had the powers of the Evermen, but somehow Ella couldn’t picture Killian smiling as people bowed down to him.
The column of riders headed directly for Ilathor’s new palace, through a series of grand arches to a sandy circular area with a central fountain. Grooms ran forward to hold their horses’ halters. Ilathor leapt down and crouched to kiss the floor at his feet. “I have returned!”
Ella exchanged glances with Jehral, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Come, Ella,” he finally said. “I’m sure you are tired from your long journey. Follow me.”
Broad steps led up through more arches to an expansive area of stone, the columns spaced far apart and rugged desert palms lit up by torches on the far walls. Ilathor’s new palace was as grand as the Crystal Palace but infinitely different, made to gain maximum exposure to breezes, with gardens and fountains in the center and mezzanine levels at all sides.
Passing a column, Ella’s mouth dropped open when she saw the marble inlaid with precious stones: turquoise, amber, obsidian, and rose quartz. Shining silk carpets lined the inner squares. The spilling water in the fountains could only be powered by Louan lore. It all must have cost a fortune.