Crecerelle lead to them to a trail that overlooked a steep escarpment that separated the cleared lowlands from the forest plateau. From there, they had an unobstructed view of the city and the mountain-sized creatures roaming the endless plains. At the edge of the plateau a thousand strides away a thin stone pier poked out like a needle. The end of the needle held a large, elongated balloon tethered by a thick cable. The distance was once again deceiving her, as the small pier managed to hold a large crown of people – at least a hundred from her quick estimate – which meant that the balloon was many times larger than James’ creations.

Bel pointed to the crowded pier. “Is there a party or something, Cress?”

Cress tilted her head and shrugged, either not knowing why they were gathered or lacking the words to answer in English. Bel didn’t see any worry on her face though, so she continued without concern. Orseis, though, began to drag her feet.

Bel slowed her steps and glanced back at her young companion. “What’s wrong, Ori?”

“I’m not so sure about meeting a bunch of Underworlders all at once,” the girl admitted hesitantly. “The last time we did that, we got into a fight.”

“I’m sure…” Bel began, but then her face scrunched with worry. “Hey, Cress, are those people friendly?”

She pointed at the crowd and made and smiled. “Friendly?” Then she scowled. “Or unfriendly?”

Cress paused and held up her hand in front of her face, performing a trick where she bent the air into the lens to see long distances. “Friendly and unfriendly,” she after a brief inspection. “But many gorgon,” she said with a smile, “so it is safe.”

Orseis waved her spear around to get Cress’ attention and then pointed to herself. “Not a gorgon,” she reminded the winged warrior.

Cress frowned. “What god made you?”

Orseis rolled her eyes. “I’m human and Cuttlefish. The Bargainer…”

Orseis turned to Bel and switched back to the language of the Golden Plains. “I don’t know how to explain it in English, you do it.”

“I haven’t taught you two enough words for that,” Bel sighed.

“Then use you divine tongue thing.”

Bel grimaced. Every time she tried to speak with her mother’s or Kjar’s voice things went wrong.

Orseis prodded her with a tentacle. “Just try it.”

Bel reluctantly nodded and put a hand on Orseis’ shoulder. She cleared her mind and thought about what she wanted to say: the Bargainer made a deal with the gods that allowed humans to reproduce with the creatures of Olympos.

She opened her mouth and sought out her mother’s divine voice. “Humans are promiscuous,” she declared. “This one constantly speaks of reproduction.”

Cress burst out laughing while Orseis flushed an embarrassed red. Then the cuttle-girl’s skin rippled with angry white bands and she slapped Bel with several of her tentacles.

“It’s what Lempo said!” Bel yelped, warding off the blows, “they’re not my words!”

“You’re the worst,” Orseis cried as she stomped away.

Bel hurried after her, fearful of the outcome if she encountered someone in her current state. Cress trailed after them, wiping tears from her eyes as she barely suppressed more laughter.

Orseis continued to sulk until they neared the pier, at which point she grudgingly allowed Bel and Cress to catch up.

“Is that really what a goddess thinks of me?” Orseis asked quietly.

Bel lifted a hand to pat her consolingly, but Orseis slipped back a step. “Lempo is more than a little mischievous,” Bel answered. “She enjoys hanging out with Dutcha. You know, the one who proudly proclaims that she’s a spirit of chaos.”

While Orseis thought that over, Crecerelle stepped forward and waved into the crowd, getting the attention of several nearby gorgons. Now that they were closer, Bel could see that around a quarter of the people on the pier were gorgons, with the rest being a strange mix of humanoids that she didn’t recognize. From their carts filled with felled trees and large, clay containers, it looked as if they had been gathering resources in the forest. Bel glanced up at the enormous, walking city; something that size would certainly require a steady supply of constant materials. She wondered if they had their own farms somewhere in the massive structure, or if they hunted and gathered for food as well.

Cress called her name and Bel remembered that she was in the middle of meeting a whole new group of gorgons. She brushed some dirt and leaves from her armor as she rushed forward, eager to meet more of her kind. Then the first gorgon – a tall woman with long, dark snakes hanging from her head – turned from Cress and faced Bel. “Porfit,” she said, introducing herself. Then she opened her arms for a hug.

Bel could feel the sweat beading on her back in real time; she wanted nothing more in that moment than to turn down the friendly gesture. Dealing with that kind of close social interaction was like throwing a landlubber onto a deep ocean ship: the best case for Bel was embarrassment and the worst case was disaster. She couldn’t see a way to avoid the other gorgon without causing offense though.

“Bel,” she weakly replied as she desperately tried to wipe the sweat from her palms before awkwardly opening her arms.

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As expected, the moment Porfit’s head drew near Bel’s snakes became entangled with the other gorgon’s neat nest of serpents. The stranger gave her an incredulous look as she slowly extricated herself from Bel’s disastrous social manners – and was immediately accosted by Orseis. The tentacled girl had decided that the best way to fit in was by joining in, so she immediately approached the offended gorgon with a smile and a wide array of tentacles.

The same expressions that had just passed over Bel’s countenance now repeated across Porfit’s. She obviously didn’t want to hug the strange tentacle girl, but just as obviously she couldn’t think of a polite way to avoid it. After a moment of hesitation she leaned down and gave Orseis a quick hug.

And then the next gorgon turned from Cress to Bel. She had obviously seen the disaster that had just unfolded, but she also obviously felt that the hug was a required social gesture. The same act repeated seven more times: a gorgon approached Bel, introduced herself, they got their snakes tangled, and then Orseis gave them an awkward many-tentacled hug. The final hug ended with an entire group of perturbed gorgons murmuring to themselves while Cress desperately maintained her cheerful facade and continued introductions.

All this social stuff is going to kill me, Bel thought. I could really use a fight to break things up.

She moved her hand to her mouth to cover her shocked expression. Oh no, I’m turning into Beth! She kept her hand over her face as she snickered, and turned away from the group so she didn’t make an even bigger fool of herself. As she spun around, she caught sight of another group of gorgons who were making their way over. Bel’s heart sank as she took in the newcomers’ clothes. The first group had been dressed in practical, scuffed leather clothing and looked like merchants or traders. The new group gave off a different, more dangerous vibe.

The least threatening was a full-figured gorgon who stood a palm shorter than Bel. She seemed important, because she looked abnormally well fed and was walking in the center of an escorting group of four other gorgons. She wasn’t swelled to excess the way the aristocrats and clergy of Satrap had been, but, compared to the just adequately nourished people of the Golden Plains and the warriors and laborers on the pier, she stood out. The out-of-place look was only emphasized by her ornate silk robes, which accentuated her healthy figure but were impractical for strenuous work or travel. A placid group of snakes with glossy bands of black and brown scales rested on her head, calmly flicking their tongues at random intervals. When one of them peeked up curiously Bel could see a creamy yellow underbelly, giving it a friendly, pudding-like appearance.

The woman had no visible weapons, but her arms were wrapped around an egg-shaped clay vessel large enough to fit a small child. She hugged it protectively to her chest, obscuring a colorful scene painted around the outside of the container.

When she saw Bel’s attention, the other gorgon smiled at Bel. Her dark eyes sparkled like the stars shining over the open ocean as she sashayed closer. Her retinue followed along, casting their gazes in every direction as if they expected an ambush at any moment. While the woman in the center looked out of place for being too soft, her four companions looked out of place for being too hard. The one who walked in front of her wielded a block of metal that masqueraded as a spiked shield in her left hand and a long, jagged saw playing at a sword in her right. She was covered in a dark, foreboding armor that covered everything except for the nest of thick-bodied vipers that emerged from her head. The woman’s eyes were shrouded by a metal visor, but her vipers scanned the area vigilantly, tongues flicking constantly from their wide, muscular heads.

The central gorgon was flanked by another pair of warriors, although those gorgons’ weren’t completely covered in armor. The one on the left practically swelled with muscles, looking like a smooth-skinned and slightly more dressed version of Ken from Nebamon’s group. Her face bore a no-nonsense scowl and her dark wings flicked through the air with obvious irritation. She wore spiked knuckles on both of her fists and Bel could see a dozen pila poking over her shoulder, their long shafts ending with pyramid shaped tips that gleamed with menacing intent. A nest of snakes with dark red scales writhed angrily over her head. A pair of them flared warning hoods in Bel’s direction when she looked at them for too long.

The flanking gorgon on the right looked less threatening at first glance, with her sleepy black and white striped snakes draped lazily over her shoulders. A long sling hung from her hand and Bel could see several pouches hanging from her belt, which she guessed was a large supply of ammunition for her weapon. She peered into the distance with a relaxed, confident gaze, but Bel noticed that her off-hand held several stones ready to feed to her sling at a moment’s notice.

Trailing the group was a tall gorgon completely wrapped in a dark cloak and cowl. Clusters of wands hung in quivers on both sides of her waist and Bel wondered what other weapons were obscured by the shadows that clung to the folds of her clothing. Bel wouldn’t have even been sure that the last figure belonged to a gorgon if not for the thin snakes with midnight-black scales that poked out from the darkness under her cowl to peer around haughtily, daring anyone to make trouble.

The central gorgon walked with a lack of concern that Bel guessed was due to the strength of the four guardians around her. As she neared Bel, the lead protector with the jagged armaments and heavy armor somehow gave Bel an intimidating look before stepping to the side to allow her charge to move closer. She smiled at Bel but made no move to hug her: Bel felt a weight lift from her shoulders when she realized that she wouldn’t be risking immediate death for tangling the woman’s glossy snakes.

The woman opened her mouth and said something as she gently swirled her clay egg. Bel smiled back, but internally she was screaming. Cress, help me out!

Bel looked around for her companion, but for some reason Cress had gotten into an argument with a multi-eyed woman dressed in a short silk robe that showed off a multitude of thin black and yellow legs. Orseis was looking back and forth between the Cress and the spider woman, clearly interested in the argument even if she couldn’t follow it. With her best apologetic smile, Bel looked back at the nicely-dressed gorgon and held up her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Sorry,” she interrupted, “but I have no idea what you’re saying.”

The woman tilted her head in a brief moment of confusion and began going through greetings in different languages, obviously expecting Bel to pick up on one of them. From her earlier experiences with Cress, Bel expected the awkward interaction to go on for some time before ultimately ending in failure. She smiled uncomfortably the whole way through, sweat building up and dripping down her body as she awkwardly watched confusion yield to frustration in the woman’s expression. Once the nicely-dressed woman ran out of languages she pursed her lips and squinted her eyes, a combination of frustration and intrigue vying for supremacy across her face.

Then she held up her hands as if asking Bel to wait for a moment and took a few steps back to confer with her guards.

Bel sighed with relief and waved her hands in the air in an effort to dry off the sweat. I really need underclothes, she thought to herself. I can’t keep running around in nothing but Kjar’s armor.

She turned to see if Cress was having any luck when a pair of footfalls behind her announced the arrival of yet another stranger. I hope you don’t want to run through all the same languages again, Bel silently implored.

Then a blade cut straight through her neck. Bel’s eyes widened as her suddenly numb body collapsed like a jellyfish.