Amid the swells and folds of land which rose steeply from the narrow inlet, tiny amber lights twinkled in strings and clusters, and a large fire appeared to be burning down near the shore, illuminating the dark water and several dozen ships bobbing at anchor in the inner harbour. Then the Pillars themselves hove into full view, stretching three hundred feet into the black air and Katla gasped in amazement. Contrary to first impressions it seemed that these two great sentinel towers were no mere natural feature of the landscape, for as they closed upon them a myriad of tiny lights were revealed inside the rock, one upon another, to the height of maybe ten longhouses. Tiny figures moved past the lights at various junctures so that from a distance the lights seemed to jump and skitter; then a web of stairways and arches came into focus, running from the waterline to the summits, winding around and about the towers and into the cliff-face on either side of the inlet. It was a miracle of architecture: Katla stood there, hands on the gunwale, staring up into the night sky until her neck cricked, until she felt the touch of a finger drawn lightly down the line of her chin, which made her leap away with a shout.
