The Golden Dynasty (Fantasyland #2)(123)

And that was from afar.

It got better up close.

The Dax’s Horde had been seen and therefore people had time to prepare. We were greeted boisterously by men, women and children who had run out of the city to do so. Therefore, when we reached what Lahn whispered in my ear was called the Avenue of the Gods, the podiums of the enormous statues that lined it were thick with people, all of them tossing petals at Lahn and me, crying out our titles and cheering.

Even if the colorful petals weren’t drifting through the air, the Avenue of the Gods that led into Korwahn would be breathtaking.

Starting at the wide end of a sweep of statues that curved to (somewhat) narrow, were two cream stone podiums at least the height of a man and on each was an identical stone woman (the height of at least three men and we’re talking Korwahk men) carved out of what looked like ivory marble. She was full-on pregnant, her big belly protruding over her sarong, her large br**sts covered in a bandeau. One of her arms was curved under her belly, the other arm lifted, her hand held over her eyes as if blocking out the sun or peering into the distance to locate something (it was the latter, Lahn told me, the True Mother’s eyes were peeled for the return of her warrior). Her hair was long and fell in carved marble curls and twists but was adorned with gold clips all around, these looking they were made out of real gold and sparkling in the bright sun (and Lahn confirmed they were, indeed, real gold). There was also gold at her neck, her ears, her wrists and her biceps.

The next one in was a coiled snake, part of its long, thin body raised as if to strike. Its mouth was open and its fangs and thin, forked, protruding tongue were gold. The diamond-shaped markings down his back the length of the coil were also gold.

The next was a jackal, standing at attention, the spots on its back and tip of its bushy tail both gold.

Then came a grand, stately, reclining lion, its entire mane gold.

Then the horse, up on its hind legs, both front hooves clawing the air. Each hoof, its mane and tail all gold.

And finally, the tiger, carved on the prowl, its stripes gold.

They were fah-ree-king amazing. Every. Last. One.

And I told Lahn so (after I pulled out a petal that landed in my mouth).

It didn’t get better than that but it was still tremendously cool as Lahn and I rode a sedately walking Lahkan into the city.

And what a city.

It was a hustle and bustle of people; they were everywhere (as were the cheers and petal throwing). And I was not wrong about it from far away. Everywhere you looked, there were windows covered with wrought iron crosses and there were tons of doors. There was one wide road trailing through the city, some less wide ones leading off it but there were a bunch of narrow winding paths or steep, stone staircases that cut through the buildings. Mostly, though, it was all a bunch of buildings clearly built with no city planning in mind. They rose one, two, three, even six stories up, dark wood beams visible jutting into the sky or out the sides from the roof. All of it made from what looked like a cream-colored adobe.

Everything, in fact, was cream. The dirt and stone of the roads (not paved, just natural), walkways, the steep steps and the buildings, all of it.

But there was color. The wash lines that ran from building to building over roads or narrow pathways on which vibrant tops and sarongs hung. There were window boxes and brightly colored pots on small balconies and at the sides of doors that were filled with vivid flowers and trailing greenery (I had to say, there weren’t many of these, Korwahk clearly wasn’t filled with green thumbs – but there was enough to break up the cream, add a splash of color and give your eyes a beautiful surprise). The large squares that opened up off the main road were filled with market stalls that had colored tent tops over tables or striped awnings over stalls. And although most of the doors were bare wood, some were painted green, some red, some blue, some white, some black with blue, white and red stripes and some black (these were warriors’ homes, Lahn whispered in my ear as we rode, their doors painted to match the paint they wore on their bodies).

And the foot of each door held a small pile of blooms, a welcome home (again, whispered to me from Lahn), from the grateful citizens of Korwahn.

And as we road with petals drifting, The Horde that followed broke off when they arrived home or needed to turn down a lane so they could make it home so there were very few left at the top of the smaller plateau where Lahn stopped Lahkan at a double arched door that was painted in black with a glimmering gold stripe painted across them both. The only one with such markings that I saw and I was certain the only one with such markings in Korwahn.

Home.

At the sight of my gold and Lahn’s black on our door, my heart warmed and my belly fluttered. I was nervous and excited. I couldn’t wait to go through those doors and for some bizarre reason, I was scared to death at the same time.

I didn’t get a chance to puzzle through these emotions. Lahn dismounted, he pulled me off and then he took me inside.

It was cool inside; this was the first thing I noticed. The second thing I noticed was that there was a courtyard in the middle that was exposed to the elements and in it, with a beautiful mosaic-tiled base, was a small, gurgling fountain. All around the fountain and courtyard were colorful pots filled with spiked or trailing green plants. There were two stories and every door opened out to a balcony that faced or looked down on the courtyard.

The second thing I noticed was there was an older, slightly stooped, short, round woman approaching us. She had an abundance of coarse, steel gray in her dark hair, lots of wrinkles on her face and a bustling but economical manner.