Lyra appeared on the balcony so quietly it felt like she'd been there all along, the way the morning finds the city.
She landed without a sound. Her boots touched the stone, and the air seemed to settle around her. She had exchanged her formal silks for a slate-grey jacket and simple trousers, but nothing could make her look ordinary. The low sun outlined her in a soft glow.
"Arthur," she said, the corners of her mouth lifting just slightly. "You look… heavier."
"I'll take that as a compliment," I said. "You look like you've stopped fighting the city."
"I have," she said. "For the most part. Elevators and I have agreed to a truce."
We stood side-by-side for a moment, looking over the sprawling city of Avalon. Hoverlanes wove like glowing braids above the river. Gardens hung like green bridges between the skyscrapers. Far in the distance, the spot where the tower once stood was just a blur in the hazy sky.
