Once through the main part of town, the caravan headed farther north along a wide cobblestone road that began to turn west. Jahrra stuck her head through the window and noticed, behind the screen of bald sycamores and birches, another arm of tall hills looming up ahead.
“Those hills split the two canyons,” Gieaun explained. “And I think we’re headed for the north canyon. It’s where the richer people live,” she continued with a slightly sour face.
Jahrra couldn’t begin to imagine what the richer part of town might look like.
“Kiniahn Kroi is built right up against the tip of that range, placed directly between the two canyons,” Scede added, seeing Jahrra’s somewhat puzzled look.
The cobbled road followed Itah Creek around the hills and continued westward. Jahrra gaped at the huge mansions nestled against the wooded hillside, and as the white carriage train moved farther up the canyon, the houses gradually became larger and more ornate. Many of them were built right up into the side of the hills, making Jahrra wonder if there might be an entire second set of rooms reaching deep inside the heart of the earth.
About thirty minutes after the wagons entered the canyon, the beautiful houses suddenly ceased and the caravan passed through a massive gate. Jahrra leaned out of the window once again and glanced at the buggies ahead of their own.
They were now traveling up a long cobbled road lined with evenly manicured holly bushes, all of which were adorned with bright red berries and glossy white and green leaves. The western-most tip of the canyon was draped in shade by the tall hills and the winter air here stayed hidden from the sun, remaining cold and unmoving. The world seemed frozen and secluded here and Jahrra sunk back into her seat, feeling like she was intruding in a land where she wasn’t welcome.
The wagon train clattered along steadily for what seemed like hours until finally Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede felt their comfortable carriage slow to a halt.
The three friends stood up and peered shyly through the window on one side of their coach. At the end of the long drive there stood the most beautiful house Jahrra had ever seen. The drive circled around a great fountain and two massive, arching staircases led up to the second story.
The mansion itself was four stories tall and was built close to the eastern curve of the canyon’s end. Jahrra blinked as she registered the color of the great stone house. It was a deep butter color, with a dark goldenrod tile roof speckled with moss and lichen. She’d always loved yellow, but now she wondered if she would ever consider it a happy color again.
The eight carriages all came to a crunching stop over the gravel drive and several men and women dressed in clean but simple uniforms came rushing out to help the children into the main house. Jahrra suddenly felt very nervous and glanced warily at her two friends, both donning a bewildered look. They purposely waited for all of their other classmates to line up behind the twins and proceed, entranced as they were, up the side staircase and into the main entrance hall. The awkward trio joined in at the back of the group, keeping their distance and hoping that the other children would be too hypnotized by their surroundings to notice the Nesnan and her traitorous friends.
As soon as they entered the huge, heavy double oak doors (opened by servants of course), the children were engulfed in a wave of color, sound and movement. Elegant and beautiful women were gathered in circles or sitting on overstuffed couches chattering away like hens. Some dashed across the room several times, whispering secrets to their friends only to burst into red-faced giggling when listening to the reply.
The men, smoking pipes and dressed in the most ornate clothing Jahrra had ever seen, didn’t even notice the children come in. She found it peculiar that the men stood around talking openly to one another in the middle of the room while the women took a much more secretive approach to their style of conversation.
“I wonder if they’re supposed to do that,” Gieaun whispered once Jahrra pointed the strange scene out to her.
Nevertheless, the fancy patrons seemed to be enjoying themselves, eating refreshments and drinking what Jahrra could only guess was sparkling wine. The aromatic buzz of conversation was only interrupted by the light, cheery music floating in from another room.
Jahrra pulled her attention away from the busy environment and looked more closely at her surroundings. It was a large space, complete with a vaulted ceiling and a half-moon staircase leading to the upper levels of the house. The interior of the mansion was tiled with white marble, and many fine paintings and tapestries hung in the great hall, their rich blues, greens, reds, oranges and blacks contrasting with the pale lemon walls. The windows were beautiful as well; thousands of small diamond shaped panes, glittering like rough sheets of ice in the afternoon light, filled the space above the stairs from ceiling to floor.
The ceiling itself was exquisite, complete with an enormous crystal chandelier hanging from its center. Jahrra wondered quietly if the castle on the Sloping Hill had once looked like this so many centuries ago. She craned her neck to see the entirety of the amazing, high-domed ceiling. A mural told a story with the characters boldly painted, but before she could discern what the tale was about she felt a tug at her arm. It was Gieaun and she was pointing over to where the left wing of the crescent staircase began.
Ellysian stood there with all of their classmates gathered around her. Jahrra grimaced as the girl shouted over the din.
“Now, you all must come see mine and Eydeth’s rooms. We have the finest bedding and furniture father could find.”
She said something more, but Jahrra made no effort to listen. The last thing she wanted to do was see the twins’ rooms. Gieaun and Scede agreed with her, and they decided to head in the opposite direction towards a glass door next to the other side of the staircase that opened out onto a nice shaded terrace. The three friends wove their way through the boisterous crowd, not worried about alarming the adults who were too intent on their noisy gossip to notice three wayward children.
They stepped out onto the stone terrace and saw that it was really a raised patio with the creek flowing below it. The patio cut into the side of the rocky wall of the canyon, creating a small, protected grotto. Several chairs and a heavy stone table stood within the small alcove, and feathery ferns and other shade-loving plants added an extra soft, delicate touch.
A carved marble railing enclosed the patio, and marble benches and statues stood in perfect harmony with the many curves and turns of the terrace. Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede took a seat on one of the benches facing into the canyon. Once settled, Jahrra breathed in the fresh air and plucked lightly at her skirt, grateful to be away from the stuffy drove of people inside.
“Well,” Scede breathed, tugging on the sleeves of his tunic to mimic Jahrra, “if we stay out of the way, we may just survive tonight.”
Gieaun and Jahrra nodded in agreement. Jahrra sighed deeply then glanced towards the western edge of the courtyard, only to notice a simple staircase leading down to a path running above the creek. It was a narrow path and it trailed away behind a curve in the canyon’s wall. She immediately got up and headed towards it.
“Where are you going?” asked Gieaun with a perplexed look on her face.
“There’s a path down there. Come on, let’s follow it. We’ll definitely be out of everyone’s way if we do.”