Verd: 7

Harbend noted how Arthur hardly gave the shining streets a look before climbing their coach, and realized Arthur had once again sunken into the peculiar apathy he displayed from time to time.

Sighing, Harbend shrugged. Now he might become a lucky merchant. He'd managed to get over two parts of a hundredth more in commission than most did, and Arthur's cargo represented a substantially greater gross value than anything Harbend had seen an outworlder bring in earlier. Arthur might be a strange one, but if he was worth half again as much as any other trader, why bother?

He joined Arthur and they were on their way.

In early daylight one strange aspect of Verd became almost painfully clear, literally so. All streets as well as the foundations of most buildings shone as if an army of cleaners had gone over them with water and brushes the previous night. Still he knew nothing of the kind had happened, and he'd grown accustomed to the powerful, yet muted magic making this impossibility of a city work.

All the dirt and offal produced by far more than half a million people living here vanished nightly and reappeared on fields almost a day's ride from the city. It was the same with water. It just arrived, and the city cisterns were always full with clean water. By now he also accepted that the outworlders took most of it for granted, but at least the shining streets usually caught their attention.

They crossed a large square and he nudged Arthur to attention. Here was a sight worth seeing.