She ignores that first question, because truly she hasn't studied the physics of it, and because what little she does know — well, she's still thinking of Sinthia as a child, albeit a very precocious one. She doesn't expect to be able to explain and have her understand.

The cliff they're standing on is all dark gray, shot through in places with deep green, patched in places with teal-colored moss. Farther down in the valley are trees like willows with long sweeping branches, but with bright red leaves that make them look like tongues of fire; the grass, spread through the valley's broad width, is more blue than green. And then there's the sky, not Earth's blue, but green-gold. If nothing else, it's certainly not lacking for variety.

"Ra'tleihfi," Irian answers. "It stood on the same spot for more than a thousand years. One of our rulers had it built as a show of her power and wealth." That's a longer story than she can tell here, although the tale of the Ruling Queen is common knowledge among her people. She was one of those women whom people hold in equal amounts of admiration and fear, even many centuries after her death.

Irian glances over at Sinthia, and there may be something almost like a smile starting to form on her lips. "Do you always ask so many questions?"