As they left the pier behind, approaching the tall walls of yellow stone and the broad wooden gates set into them, Dion saw that there was a monument of some kind, erected directly in front of the gates. Following the soldiers across an expanse of square flagstones with grass poking up between, he found himself walking toward a statue.

Dion was perplexed as he neared, looking up as the statue loomed over him. Resting on a square base of granite, a stern-faced man made of polished marble gazed into the distance, wearing a shining crown of golden spikes on his head, like rays of light. In addition to the crown, the statue’s fingers were clenched around another metal item: a golden discus. There could be no doubt it was a representation of Helios, except for one thing.

The god was sitting on the back of a dragon. Reins connected his hands to the dragon’s neck, and the creature had been perfectly crafted: the sculptor knew what a dragon looked like in surprising detail, from the size of the flared nostrils to the sweeping protrusions behind its eye ridges. The powerful hind legs were so strong it could leap into the sky or land at speed. The outstretched wings had thin bones like a framework, all connected to a muscular back.

Dion remarked to the soldiers, ‘Where I come from, Helios pulls the sun behind his chariot, with the great stallion Nagros in the lead.’

The long-haired soldier with the drooping eyes shrugged. ‘Take that up with the locals.’

Cob glanced at Dion, looking more and more anxious as they passed through the gates. Feeling his stomach tighten into a knot, Dion reminded himself that they’d come here for information. They were merchants, about to be thanked for bringing supplies to the city. They would discover the truth about Malakai’s new rulers, and then they would leave.

Their escort now led them down a wide, paved avenue, with well-maintained gutters on both sides and plants draping tendrils from upper balconies. Looking around him, Dion saw more solid stone than he’d encountered in any other city. Turning from the main boulevard, they passed through street markets and open plazas. Fountains in the squares bubbled with clear water. Dion had always heard that Imakale was a dry land of desert, but the shade cast by the terraced houses made the streets cool, while the hanging gardens and flowing water helped to dispel the heat.

Entering another broad avenue, Dion almost stopped and stared when he saw the soaring tower that had been visible from the Liberty. Broad and cylindrical, it was extremely far away, but so tall that it towered over the street, an optical illusion tilting it forward, as if it were about to fall. Up close, the Sky Tower was even taller than he’d thought it would be. He recalled Cob saying that whatever was inside, the priests kept its secrets close.