July 15, 2014 by Lyn Thorne-Alder
“Look, Tai-tai, there’s the Capitol.” Tairieke’s father pointed out the window of their carriage, rather unnecessarily, as the Calenyen capitol rose up out the cliffs on the Lannamer River like it was trying to touch the sky. “You can see the palace from here, see the spires?”
Dutifully, Tairiekie leaned out of the window to look at the twisting, three-sided spires. “They’re…” She tilted her head. “How did they make them? Aren’t they supposed to be centuries old?”
“Millennia, especially the big one in the center. The plans are on file at the Academy, in the restricted center of the Library.”
“Biemnyon.” Tairiekie’s mother scolded gently.
“What? She’ll know eventually. Besides, if we’re at the Capitol, we’re only a day out. Tairiekie will be a student there soon.”