In the blue sky that stood above the capital, the sun shone down brightly.
On other days, the rays would be either weak or especially hot, but today, the sun struck a perfect balance of sunlight that made the market stalls look prosperous and the cobblestones look almost golden.
The people moving through the streets moved with the particular ease and happiness of a city that believed, for the moment, that it was safe.
And high above all of it, hidden inside the belly of one of the clouds that had drifted in from the east, Lord Vine floated.
He looked down at the capital the way a man looks at a map he has already memorized. His hands spread slowly at his sides, palms turned outwards, and from the folds of his dark robes something emerged that was not quite liquid and not quite mist.
