Chapter 3
Del Lasmar isn’t as big as I thought. From Paules’ glowing descriptions I expected a thriving, boisterous city, filled with reasonably towering towers and the stench of tens of thousands of people living in close proximity with no indoor plumbing. Perhaps the spire of a grand cathedral cresting the horizon when the city itself is still miles away. Something impressive.
Instead, it’s squat and flat, surrounded by windbreaker walls and topped by a slate gray dome, protruding from the earth like a scab. Its sole concessions to grandeur are the thin towers that line the approaching road, but even those are derelict.
The slow traffic accompanying us to Del Lasmar, mostly caravans of men pulling two-wheeled carts and the occasional lone traveler, appear as unimpressed as I am.
The
