Free The First Dragon (Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica, The) by James A. Owen Page B

was sitting on a dais at the center . . .

C hapter S EVEN
The City of Jade

    It was the first city that was, and as such, it had no need of a name—but things that are made must also be named, for that is the way of the world. And so, as travelers came from the distant parts of the earth, to seek knowledge, and trade, and in some cases, redemption, they named the city, and carried those names back with them when they returned home.
    To the younger races, it was called Atlantis. To the Children of the Earth, who had assisted in its construction, it was called the Dragon Isle. Some named it for the builder who first deigned to create something great in the world, and they called it the City of Enoch, but it was not his city they saw, not truly—and those who had created and named everything else the city is, was, and would yet become simply called it the City of Jade.
    When the Cartographer Edmund McGee drew the city on parchment, to use as a chronal trump for himself, Rose Dyson, and the Caretaker Charles, and later, when he duplicated the drawing as a bronze engraving to leave in the Sphinx for the Caretakers to find in the future, both renderings were based on descriptions and memories provided to him by the legendary Gilgamesh. The greatking had seen the city in his youth, and his recollections of it were strong enough that Edmund could duplicate it in line with great fidelity. But as fine as the renderings were, there was simply no comparison between viewing a simple drawing and being in the presence of a city that had been designed and built by angels.
    The place where Rose, Edmund, and Charles had appeared was a grassy hill on the other side of the estuary that separated the island where the city stood from the mainland. A conversation with a passing angel called Nix had some unusual results: First, Charles was mistaken for a Seraphim, which was not necessarily a bad thing; and second, when they asked for further information about the city, and the summit that was to take place there, Nix instructed them to seek out what he referred to as a minor angel with the unlikeliest of names.
    “Samaranth?” Charles said for the umpteenth time. “That just can’t be a coincidence. It can’t be.”
    “I agree,” Rose said as they walked down the path taken by Nix, but at a discreet distance. They had decided that following someone who was attending to official city business would be the most direct route into the city, but they preferred not to arouse his suspicion any further than they already had. “He may be the reason this is a chronal zero point. After all, the trump could take us to the city, but something else had to influence the reason we arrived at this specific point in time—and Samaranth’s presence might be it.”
    “We had some help, remember?” Edmund interjected. “The old man, in Platonia. He has involved himself in things before, to help you out. He must have known.”
    “He knew something, that’s for certain,” Rose answered asthey approached the bridge. It was made of the same glowing green material as the city and was several hundred yards wide. At both ends and at several points across the width of the entrance were guard towers manned by watchmen who were paying scant attention to most of those crossing—almost all of whom seemed to be boylike angels like Nix.
    As the companions approached, Edmund and Rose whispered back and forth about what possible ruse they could use to pass, but the guard in the nearest tower simply looked up, nodded at Charles, then went back to his other work.
    “Interesting,” Charles murmured as they passed. “I would have at least expected to be stopped and questioned.”
    The guard overheard this and leaned out of his tower, shaking his head. “You are Seraphim, are you not?” he asked.
    “Er, ah, yes,” Charles said hesitantly. “I am.”
    “Then you are Named,” the guard replied, “Naming is Being, and there is no need to ask about your