Ptolemy's Gate

mental prod. Nathaniel stopped where he was in the middle of the field to get a better look. We stood awhile, considering. As we stood, we held the Staff out horizontally, clasped in casual fingers. It glowed and crackled; white smoke drifted from the end. The ground beneath our boots was blackened, charred. All around us bodies lay, and shoes and coats and placards; beyond them were burning trees and the deep abyss of night.
    Away across the park, the gleaming lights of the great Glass Palace. Within it, silhouetted upon the grass, distant figures seemed to move. We were too far away to make out any details.
    Nouda? Faquarl?
    Could be . . .
    Watch out. Away to our left, something coming. We raised the Staff. Paused. Out from the dark a man came—human, with negligible aura. He was shoeless, shirt half torn away. He stumbled past on bloodied feet. He never looked at us.
    What a mess, Nathaniel thought.
    Give the poor bloke a chance! He's just been chased by forty demons.
    Not him. This. Everything.
    Oh. Yes. Yes, it is.
    So you reckon there were forty, total?
    I didn't say that. A wise warrior —
    How many have we killed?
    I don't know. Wasn't counting. There aren't so many here now, though.
    The central vistas of the park were largely empty. It was as if an invisible skin or barrier had been punctured, and the mass of frantic movement had suddenly poured, then ebbed, away.
    Nathaniel sniffed and wiped his nose upon a sleeve. The Glass Palace it is, then. We're just about finished here.
    One step, two. . . up across the lawns and in among some ornamental hedges, flower beds, ponds, and tinkling fountains. Nathaniel slowed the boots; we took stock of our surroundings.
    The Glass Palace rose like a breaching whale from the center of the park, two hundred meters long and a hundred wide. It was constructed almost entirely of glass panes, set among a web of iron girders. The main walls were gently soaring curves; here and there protruded secondary domes, crests, minarets, and gables. It was nothing but a giant conservatory, really, but instead of containing a few moldering tomato plants and a sack of compost, it boasted lines of full-grown palm trees, a man-made stream, aerial walkways, gift shops, and refreshment booths, as well as all manner of ramshackle entertainments.[6] Thousands of electric lights hanging from the girders illuminated the area night and day. In ordinary times it was a favorite place for commoners to whittle away their lives.

[6] These included: bumper cars, roller-skating arenas, "Ride-an-imp" merry-go-rounds , Madame Houri's Mystic Tent of Prophecy, a hall of distorting mirrors, Bumpo the Bear's Grotto of Taxidermy, and the central "One World Exhibition"— a series of pathetic stands displaying the "cultural riches" of each country of the Empire (mainly involving squash, yams, and crudely painted wooden love spoons). The billboards outside proclaimed the palace as the "Tenth Wonder of the World," which, speaking as someone who had a hand in constructing five of the other nine, I found a little rich.

In the past I had rarely ventured near the palace, since its iron skeleton made my essence squeamish. Now, however, protected within Nathaniel, I had no such worries. We climbed some steps toward the eastern entrance. Here, tropical ferns and palm trees pressed thickly against the inside of the glass; it was hard to see beyond them.
    Faint noises echoed from the building. We did not pause, but strode to the wooden doors. We pushed; the doors opened. Holding the Staff before us, we stepped within.
    An instant mugginess: out of the night's cold, under the roof of glass, the air was warm. An instant stench of magic too—the after-plumes of sulphurous Detonations. Somewhere to our right, beyond a knot of trees and a Japanese style sushi bar, came sounds of lamentation.
    Commoners, Nathaniel thought. Need to get close. See who's got them.
    Try the walkway?
    To our left, a spiral stair of iron led by rapid revolutions to a walkway high above. An elevated vantage point would give us immediate advantage. We crossed swiftly and scaled the steps without a sound. We rose above the spreading palm fronds, up tight against the curve of the great glass wall, and came out upon the narrow gantry, which extended like an iron thread to the opposite side. Nathaniel crouched low; he held the Staff horizontal against the floor. With slow and careful movements, we shuffled out across the void.
    It did not take long