Once they were away from the crowd, the group stopped. The children were cranky; two of them were crying and whining to go home. Silverdun and the young husband took each other's arms.
'I cannot thank you enough,' said Silverdun. 'That was a lucky thing, us ending up opposite one another.'
'For shame!' said the young man. 'Luck had nothing to do with it.'
'Of course, you're right.'
'We must do what we can. And live to serve Aba another day.'
'Aba be praised,' said the wife.
'I think we're safe now,' said Silverdun. 'Go in peace.'
'You as well,' said the husband. He scooped up one of the children, and the family disappeared into the night.
'All right,' said Ironfoot. 'What was that all about?'
'Arcadians,' said Silverdun.
'So I gathered,' said Ironfoot. 'Why did they go out of their way to help us?
'Because I asked them to.'
'All that business with the water,' said Sela.
'Yes. It's a code. It's the Arcadians' way of asking for help in unfriendly circumstances.'
'Are you an Arcadian?' asked Sela, confused.
'I used to be,' said Silverdun.
'He was a monk,' said Ironfoot.
'A very bad one,' scowled Silverdun. 'Anyhow, all of that I learned from my mother. She was an Arcadian at a time when it was dangerous even in the Seelie Lands.'
'Why haven't you ever told me this?' asked Sela.
'Some things, I've found, are best left in the past.'
'We'd best get going,' said Ironfoot, pointing to a clock tower that rose above the docks. 'Our rendezvous is in an hour.'
'Just a moment,' said Sela. 'I'd like to look over the edge. May I?'
'Be my guest,' said Silverdun.
They walked past the docks, to a railing that stretched out of sight to the north. The docks were on the lowest tier of the city, so there was nothing beneath to obstruct the view.
Sela leaned over the edge of the city and looked down. The ground seemed so very far below. There was a slender sparkling line of silver that she realized was a river. Boulders like pebbles. And the tiny circles were the tops of trees, colored green-gray by the moonlight. There was also a large oval spot, pitch black.
'What's that?' she asked. 'A lake?'
Silverdun looked. 'It's called the umbra. It's the shadow of the city,' he said. 'Supposed to be extremely unlucky to walk through it.'
For some reason, the thought of a shadow that large made Sela deeply uncomfortable.
'Perhaps we could save the sightseeing for another time?' said Ironfoot. Sela could feel his anxiety.
'Of course,' she said. 'I'm sorry. I just wanted to see.'
'It's fine,' he said. And he meant it. 'But we must be going.
They made their way through the city, up grand stairways, along wide avenues, always upward, from tier to tier. It was a festival night, and the streets were filled with revelers celebrating the beginning of summer. Both spring and autumn were bitterly cold in the Unseelie Lands, and Sela had heard that in some northern cities, there was even snow from time to time at the height of autumn.
They moved slowly through the packed streets, where drummers sat in circles beating the rhythms of the season. The Fae of Preyia danced in time, smiling and laughing, shouting verse after verse of summer song.
'Look at them all,' Sela said.
'What about them?' asked Silverdun.
'They're all so happy. So joyous.'
