The city disappeared again behind the clouds. Saia expanded her domain to include Serit too and spoke directly in their ears.

“Cloth and paper?”

“You'll see when we get there,” Serit said, quietly this time, seemingly realizing she could listen to them perfectly. “Just don't expect anything like Iriméze.”

Saia nodded. Her attention fell again onto the three blindfolded birdguards behind her.

“You have animal people too?” she asked Serit.

“It's complicated. It's very common for us to have at least some feathers, because we eat a lot of bird meat.”

They lowered the neck of their bodysuit to show the sparse brown plumes at the base, then put it back with a shiver.

“In our case it's not permanent. Every time we rain and reform, every change to our bodies disappears. Not just residues of other creatures, but also things like tattoos, scars or wounds.”

“Why?”

“They're not decoded in our viss, which is what determines how we are reformed when we return from our rain-voyage. It wouldn’t be impossible to make them permanent, but it’s a long process and only allowed for medical reasons.”

Saia observed the guards, thinking about the implications of Serit's words.

“So every time they return they have to do everything from the beginning? I can't imagine how many birds they have to eat to change so much.”

Serit laughed. The three guards were startled by the sound, since they weren’t aware of the conversation happening in front of them.

“The jacinth eagles would be extinct, if that were the case. No, usually we extract the viss from fallen feathers or from the animals themselves. We have enough in the zoologic garden to supply the guards.”

“How do you extract viss from an animal? With you machine?”

“I mean, we didn’t try, but they’re too powerful for that, they would kill the animal and only get a smidge of energy we can’t really use for anything. No, it would be more efficient to kill them ourselves and then harvest it from their bodies, since we can’t do that while they’re alive. Some of the zookeepers are trying to teach them to give us their viss at command, but so far they’ve been failing. So we just extract the viss from the feathers they lose.”

Saia observed the guards again to get an idea of what the jacinth eagles might look like. She was glad she didn't need to turn her head and get caught staring. She expanded her domain a bit more to include them, but they didn't have her shard, just like all the other members of the expedition.

“Besides some exceptions,” Serit continued, "No shilvé genuinely considers themselves an animal person. Since it’s temporary, it’s more of a symbol of wealth and social status. Have you seen Enanit’s feathers?”

Saia remembered her permanent red necklace and nodded.

“They come from a rare species of parrot. She has an aviary full of them at home. But she can’t carry them with her, so that’s her way to show off.”

Saia noticed at that moment that her sprite was a bit too far from Serit’s, and even from the rest of the group. She tried to steer the creature by pulling the reins to the side, but they slid inside the sprite’s mouth without achieving any effect, as if they didn’t exist. The guards tensed while they looked at her drifting away from the spiral of sprites.

“Feed it a bit of your viss,” Atan yelled, watching the scene through his mount.

Saia did, then she realized she had used her domain and not her hands and touched the sprite’s fog to keep up appearances. When she steered again, the creature followed her lead.

“It must have seen a bird in the distance,” Serit commented. “Sprites hunt them when they’re hungry.”

Saia eyed her mount.

“I didn’t think they were capable of hunting.”

Serit nodded energetically.

“They sprint toward the prey, absorb it in their bodies and suffocate it by applying pressure. Once it’s dead, they can extract the viss it contains and let the body fall for some other creature to eat.”

Serit grinned, like they were somehow proud of how gruesome that detail was. Saia didn’t give them the satisfaction of looking disgusted.

“Could they attack us too, if they wanted?”

“Sprites don’t want, I told you. When they feel like they don’t have enough viss to keep going, they hunt, and their instincts draw them toward the easier preys.”

“Easier than someone who doesn’t fly? Compared to a bird?”

Serit laughs.

“You’re not entirely wrong, but luckily their instincts don’t think the same way you do. They tend to go for smaller prey first, even if said prey is able to vomit acid or become invisible for a bit.”

Saia turned their head toward them, uncertain for a moment about whether she had heard their words correctly.

“Become invisible?” she repeated.

“Yes. Some species of animal can use their viss in simple ways to escape predators or catch prey. You don’t have them at mount Ohat?”

Saia looked ahead, thinking about it.

“I’m fairly sure we don’t.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me, if your monks wanted to keep magic a secret.”

They passed through a layer of clouds, the humidity sticking to their clothes and forming pearls on Saia’s stone forehead. Once on the other side, she saw the city again.

It wasn’t easy to trace where that mass of fluid colors started or ended, since flags, banners and pieces of cloth flowed from one structure to the next, fusing them into one giant building that extended in every direction. She couldn’t see the top levels, cut off from the lower part by a thick layer of clouds.

It took a bit of focus to get over the initial awe and see the individual pieces that composed the city: simple platforms of wood with slim columns at the corners and a flat ceiling perched at the top. Each of them was decorated by spirals of paper dangling from the borders and around the columns. Most of them were open at the sides, but she saw some closed ones, with walls of cloth that enveloped the platform completely, each died with a simple geometric pattern in no more than three colors. Lights moved on the platforms, ignoring the short bridges of wooden planks and rope that connected them as they flew in the space between them. Other figures walked instead, but from that distance Saia couldn’t distinguish whether they were humans or shilvé.

She felt a twinge of apprehension when she realized that the platforms were all tied to each other through ropes. Decorated as they were with more spirals of paper, they couldn’t hide the sense of instability. Nor she could see what was holding everything up.

“Not a city for me,” she commented.

“Not a city for humans,” Serit replied. “On multiple levels.”

The city was surrounded by a series of evenly-distanced lights, each human-shaped and standing with a tube of wood in their hands, a pattern carved on the outside. Atan guided the group right through two of them. Saia was about to ask what they were, but once her sprite was past them, the winds hitting her back became a gentle breeze. It was just like standing inside Iriméze again.

The platform they were approaching was empty, except for the spirits standing or floating at the center of it. Saia couldn't see many differences with the sprite she was riding, except for their humanoid shapes with luminous eyes and the weapons they were holding. They were needles with points at both ends, the center as wide as one of her wrists, with a leather handle secured around it.

“The infamous wind warriors," Atan explained, belting the words for everyone to hear. “I know their weapons don't look impressive, but the danger lies in the way they use them. They can fly fast enough to pierce anyone's heart, so be careful. Especially you two.”

He pointed at Saia and Runì.

“Don't talk to them unless they ask you something first. It's different with common people, but be extremely careful with spirits of higher standing.”

“How do we know if they have a higher standing?” Saia asked.

“Warriors do. If we're lucky, we won't meet others like them for the rest of our stay.”

He guided his sprite toward the platform, until it was hovering over the floor. He didn't step down, addressing the warriors instead.

“We're the group from Iriméze,” he said, handing them a letter.

One of them took it. They looked at the group, glancing up and down from letter to visitors. Saia was astonished by how similar the two guards were. They were both shaped like two bald people, equally tall and broad-shouldered, their sexless bodies naked except for a purple sash worn diagonally over their shoulders and chest. It moved with the winds of their bodies. Saia could only imagine how difficult it would be to wear more clothes with that constant movement hampering every gesture.

“The birds?” the guards asked.

Their captain guided the sprite forward, holding out another piece of paper.

“We have our own permission,” he said.

The guards read them quickly, then nodded.

“You can dismount. We'll check the cargo, now.”

It was Atan, and not Runì, to approach the sprites that were carrying the goods for the market. She waited patiently as her cloths were moved aside one by one and the weapons thoroughly inspected. When they asked for the authorization to sell them, Runì provided it without a word.

The inspection continued in silence for a bit, sprite by sprite, until the guards finally floated aside.

“Don't ride inside the city,” was their only welcome.

Atan took his sprite's reins and led it toward the ladder of rope that connected the platform to the one above it.

“I’ve reserved a room for us in my favorite hostel,” he said.

“A room?” Saia murmured in Serit’s ears.

“It’s common. They’re big enough and it would be too expensive to do otherwise for the amount of time we have to stay here.”

Saia climbed the ladder after Serit. They were all holding the sprites' reins with their teeth as the creatures flew beside them, unfazed by the strong winds that made the ropes swing or the thousand towerlengths drop that awaited them below the city.

They arrived on a platform that looked more like a crossroad, since it was smaller, completely empty and had four ladders leading in four different directions, long ribbons of cloth decorating them.

“Each color is a district,” Atan said. “If you ever get lost, don't panic and follow the orange flags.”

He climbed another, shorter ladder. The group kept going for a bit, each platform a bit more elaborate than the previous one. There were cushions and blankets tied to the columns, which some wind spirits were using to relax or converse in a semi-solid form. On others, crates were stacked on top of each other, two guards observing them. The majority of the other platforms were hidden behind four walls of cloth, one of which was a flap that could be used as a door.

Atan entered one with walls of flowy green cloth, with writing sewn in gold above the point where the two folds of the entrance overlapped. Saia could barely read it after studying the first part of the bottle Serit had bought her.

They all entered, still leading the sprites, which redoubled the space their already numerous group was taking up. Despite that, the platform was so big there was still one half of the room untouched. In front of that half there was a desk, not positioned on the floor, but growing out like a branch from the frame, then enlarging to create a flat surface.

A spirit floated behind the counter. They had no facial traits except for the eyes, but a long curtain of ever-shifting curly hair set them apart from any other wind spirit she'd seen. The dress helped too: purple cloth in multiple layers that were constantly moving one over the other, revealing different silver decorations every time.

They closed the register they were reading and opened another one.

“Welcome,” they said in a heavily accented Shilizé.

Atan approached them and answered in the wind language. The two of them went on for a while, then the spirit flew to the ceiling of the platform, where ribbons were dangling from string sewn to the cloth.

They gestured for the group to follow them, crossing a flap hidden in the wall. There was a room immediately attached to that, then another beyond, this time connected to the rest by a short bridge. It seemed a weird corridor made of rooms and ladders, since each one of them was clearly connected to others, the rooms, from which came quiet voices and, sometimes, loud snoring.

The spirit stopped in front of a room on the right, tied the blue ribbon to a hole in the entrance and flew away.

“Room twenty-nine,” Atan said, checking the golden inscription sewn in the cloth. “I gave instructions to bring us a room for the sprites too, it should come here soon.”

He held the flap of cloth open, inviting the group to enter.

The platform was enclosed by walls of turquoise and filled with pillows and heavy blankets. Curtains were hanging from the ceiling, and round strings on the wall allowed them to be tied in a way that sectioned the platform into smaller rooms.

They started to set up their spots at the four corners of the room, the sprites hovering near the ceiling with the reins dangling below. Serit, Saia and Atan shared one section of the space, Runì and her daughter another, the two groups of guards occupying the rest. They were still tying the curtains to divide their portions, when a voice calling from the outside in the spirits’ language interrupted them.

“They've set up the room for the sprites,” Atan translated.

They rushed to move them to the new platform. A group of spirits had tied it to the main one in a way that made it easily reachable just by parting an opening in the wall.

“Hostels move rooms around all the time based on the guests' needs,” Atan explained to Saia as they freed the sprites inside the room. “It will cost us a bit more, though.”

They returned to the bedroom. Serit collapsed on a stack of pillows, and Saia did the same after a bit, realizing she was the only one who didn't look tired from the trip.

“Where's the wind spirit we have to meet?” she whispered.

"We'll think about it tomorrow. Now let me sleep," Serit said with a yawn.

Saia waited as everyone around her dozed off, wondering what awaited her in that maze of cloth.