Part 2.2! It ended up being a little long.

The ship skirted around the edge of the falls, keeping a healthy distance from the water. Nearer the top, there wouldn’t have been room to fly around behind the curtain of water, but this far down the water was nearly a quarter mile from the cliffs. There was some ambient mist, just as Baroul had said, but Gallin could still see the city right as soon as they got a viewing angle on it.

A dozen huge, flat terraces were cut into the edge of the world, one above the other, like handholds for a giant. Two of them, the sixth and seventh, were densely packed with rough stone buildings, but the rest seemed to be used for farming. There was wheat, fruits, and some crops Gallin did not recognize, although none of the fields looked particularly lush. He saw a few figures walking across the fields, and more milling about in the village terraces. In the center of each terrace, he saw a small entrance that seemed to lead deeper into the earth, except for the sixth and seventh, which each had a huge cave cut back into the earth. The highest terrace held huge sheets of canvas, glistening with condensation, and metal pipes led down to the lower levels. Galling supposed that this was safer than going out to the waterfall with a bucket, but it seemed unfortunate that such lengths were necessary with so much water so near.

Rickety wooden scaffolding provided access between some of the terraces, but there didn’t seem to be enough for all of them. Perhaps the caves led to stairs within the earth, or perhaps you couldn’t get around unless Baroul was willing to bring you somewhere on the barge.

“Here we are,” said Baroul. “The Free City, safe from prying eyes above. Self-sufficient! See those crops growing?” Baroul seemed energized by the sight; his more measured demeanor during the right evaporated before his excitement. “Yes, I do. They seem a little sickly.”

“Well, the light isn’t great under the falls like this. It’s perfectly edible.” “Edible. My favorite sort of food,” said Gallin, glumly. While it was remarkable that this city existed at all, it didn’t look like his sort of place. It was damp, dark, and probably filled with people who never had quite enough to eat. “We’re really going to live down here?” “Of course!” said Baroul. “You can stay as long as you like.” The prince seemed more aware of Gallin’s displeasure with his new fate. “Of course, we may not spend too much time here, considering.”

“Considering what?” asked Gallin.

“Considering that you’re going to restore me to the throne, of course,” the prince replied. “I’ll generously commute your sentence, and you can return to your old life.”

The little twinge of hope ached, particular since the prince’s plan seemed ludicrously far-fetched. “I don’t think there are enough people here to help with that, your majesty,” said Gallin.

“Oh, I know that. But there are people who will help. Your old friends up top –“

“- who know I’ve been exiled,” interjected Gallin.

“- and, of course, my new friends from the other side of the world. You can meet them once we land. I think you’ll all get along.”

As they began the final descent towards a rickety wooden dock on the sixth terrace, Gallin weighed a lifetime living in these damp stone houses against the likelihood of being executed on the surface after the prince’s plan failed.

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s meet them.”