The Hidden City

Aphrael agreed. ‘It’s certainly faster than plodding along on horseback.’
    They fled southeasterly with an eerie kind of silence around them. ‘The Sea of Arjun,’ Sparhawk said, pointing toward a large body of water off to the right.
    ‘So small?’ Xanetia said. ‘I had thought it larger.’
    ‘We’re up quite a ways,’ Aphrael explained. ‘Everything looks small from a distance.’
    They sped on and were soon over the dense green jungle that covered the southeastern coast of the continent.
    ‘We’ll go down a bit now,’ Aphrael warned. ‘I’ll take a bearing on Delo, and then we’ll swerve toward the southwest to reach Natayos.’
    ‘Will we not be seen from the ground?’ Xanetia asked.
    ‘No—although it’s an interesting idea. Your light would definitely startle people. Whole new religions could be born if people on the ground started seeing angels flying over their heads. There’s Delo.’
    The port city looked like a child’s toy carelessly left on the shore of the deep blue Tamul Sea. They veered to the southwest, following the coastline and gradually descending. Aphrael was peering intently down at the jungle rushing back beneath them. ‘There,’ she said triumphantly.
    The ruin might have been more difficult to find had not the northern quarter been cleared of the brush and trees which covered the rest of the ancient city. The tumbled grey stones of the half-fallen buildings stood out sharply in the light of the sunrise, and the newly cleared road stretching toward the north was a yellow scar cut deeply into the face of the dark green of the jungle.
    They settled gently to earth on the road about a quarter of a mile north of the ruins, and Sparhawk immediately led them back a hundred paces into the thick undergrowth. He was tense with excitement. If Kalten was right, he was less than a mile from the place where Ehlana was being held captive.
    ‘Go ahead, Xanetia,’ Aphrael suggested. ‘I want to look you over before you go into the city. This is important, but I don’t want to put you in any danger. Let’s be sure nobody can see you.’
    ‘Thou art overly concerned, Divine One. Over the centuries, we of the Delphae have perfected this particular subterfuge.’
    She straightened, and her face assumed an expression of almost unnatural calm. Her form seemed to shimmer, and little rainbow flickers of light seethed beneath her plain homespun robe. She blurred and wavered, her form becoming indistinct. Then she was only an outline, and Sparhawk could clearly see the trunk of the tree behind her.
    ‘How do you make the things on the other side of you visible?’ Aphrael asked curiously.
    ‘We bend the light, Divine One. That is at the core of this deception. The light flows around us like a swift-moving stream, carrying with it the images of such objects as our bodies would normally obscure.’
    ‘Very interesting,’ Aphrael mused. ‘I hadn’t even thought of that possibility.’
    ‘We must be wary, however,’ Xanetia told the Goddess. ‘Our shadows, like telltale ghosts, can betray us.’
    ‘That’s simple. Stay out of the sunlight.’
    Sparhawk concealed a faint smile. Even a Goddess could give blatantly obvious instructions sometimes.
    ‘I shall most carefully adhere to thine advice, Divine One,’ Xanetia replied with an absolutely straight face.
    ‘You’re making fun of me, aren’t you, Xanetia?’
    ‘Of course not, Divine Aphrael.’ Even the outline was gone now, and Xanetia’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere. ‘To work, withal,’ she said, her sourceless voice receding in the direction of the road. ‘I shall return anon.’
    ‘I’ll have to compliment Edaemus,’ Aphrael said. ‘That’s a very clever means of concealment. Turn around, Sparhawk. I’m going to change back.’
    After the Child Goddess had resumed the familiar form of Flute, she and Sparhawk made themselves comfortable and waited as the sun gradually rose. The jungle steamed, and the air was alive with the chattering of birds and the buzzing of insects. The moments seemed to drag. They were so close to Ehlana that Sparhawk almost imagined that he could smell her familiar fragrance.
    ‘Are Ulath and Tynian here yet?’ he asked, more to get his mind away from his anxious concern than out of any real curiosity.
    ‘Probably,’ Flute replied. ‘They set out from Arjun yesterday morning. It might have seemed like three weeks to them, but it was no more than a heartbeat for