Inside, the building was silent as a tomb. Kino and Hermes found themselves in an immense vaulted hall filled with dozens of stained-glass windows, a fountain larger than the average swimming pool, and endless corridors. All in all, the inside was every bit as impressive as the outside, except everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.
They moved straight down the great hall and through a huge set of double doors that were fashioned of polished brass. That brought them to a broad terrace that overlooked the grounds behind the palace.
"Oh," sighed Hermes.
Kino said nothing and only leaned against the carved marble balustrade.
It was a graveyard. A huge graveyard.
Surrounded by green grass were mounds of earth marked by thin wooden boards. The simple graves, arranged in rows throughout the grounds, stretched away into the distance. Thousands, tens of thousands – it was impossible to count them all.
Perhaps this place had once been the royal hunting grounds, or a relaxation spot for the town's citizens, but it was now nothing more than a vast cemetery. Kino let out a long, deep breath and Hermes felt as if he, too, had exhaled.
The late summer sun waned as they stood there; the sky muted to violet-gray, then deep blue. The graves were quickly blanketed by the building's shadow, giving the eerie impression that they were sinking into the earth.
Hermes whispered, "Kino. Everyone in this city is dead."
Kino was silent, her eyes still on the vanishing graves.
"Anyone left alive must have surely abandoned the place. The city... the city is dead, too."
"Maybe. I wonder why." She turned toward Hermes, looking as if she didn't really see him standing there in the growing gloom.
Her eyes seemed haunted – as haunted as this city – and it filled him with unease. "There's no reason for us to stay," he said. "We should leave now."
Kino answered with a shake of her head. "No. We'll camp here tonight and leave in the morning. It hasn't been three days yet."
"That again?" exclaimed Hermes skeptically. "Why do we always stay three days in each place?"
Kino smiled slightly. "A traveler I met long ago said it was the perfect length for any stay."
"That all?" Hermes had thought it must surely be something more profound than that.
Kino turned to look at the graves again.
Hermes definitely didn't relish the thought of spending the night among the dead.
After their first night in what they now thought of as a mausoleum, Kino and Hermes moved, without discussion, to a small building at the entrance to the park. The morning of the third day, Kino woke at dawn, as was her habit. She practiced with the Woodsman and the Cannon, then cleaned them. She washed herself off with a damp cloth as well. Then she ate breakfast, loaded the baggage, and woke the drowsy motorcycle.
Aiming for the western gate, they headed across town. Kino let Hermes' engine roar as loudly as it wanted, driving well above the speed limit. There was, after all, no one to wake or take umbrage.
Or so Kino thought.
Shortly after the town's western wall came into view, Kino saw, sitting beside the gate, a tractor with a trailer piled high with fruits and vegetables. In the driver's seat sat a man with a hat pulled low over his eyes. He was young – in his thirties, Kino guessed – and wore clothing covered with dirt.
He was very much alive.
Hermes saw him, too. "Kino! A person! A live one!"
They approached the tractor with caution. The man was asleep, but woke at the sound of Hermes' engine. He frowned, shook his head, and opened his eyes. He met Kinds gaze as she glided Hermes to a stop and turned his engine off. The silence was startling.
"I'm sorry to wake you," she said quickly, pulling off her goggles. "Uh... good morning."
"Morning," chimed Hermes.
"Well, this is a surprise," said the man, eyes wide. He hardly looked like someone who'd been asleep not five seconds earlier. "Are you... foreigners? I mean, visitors?"
He leapt down from the tractor seat, stumbled once, and trotted over to them, hand extended. "Good morning, indeed! Welcome to my city! How did you get here? I must say, I'm glad to see you!"
Kino grimaced at this enthusiastic greeting, delivered, as it was, two days late. She shook his hand, then bowed slightly for good measure.
Hermes blurted, with characteristic tactlessness, "You're the only person in the city? What happened?"
The man's smile vanished. Tears sparkled in his eyes. "You seem about to leave. Do you have time to hear this?"
"We can leave anytime today," Kino answered.
"In that case, please let me tell you what happened here. My story is a tragic one. Will you listen?" He reached toward Kino, hesitating just short of touching her shoulder.
Kino glanced at Hermes, then at the man, then smiled and said, "I was just about to ask."
In the corner of the plaza, inside the gate, was what had once been an open-air café, chairs and tables piled everywhere. The man pulled the awning out across the sidewalk and set up a table and a couple of chairs. He then gestured for Kino to sit.
Kino rested Hermes next to the table on his stand and accepted a chair. How pleasant this must have been once, she thought, gazing across the plaza. She imagined it teeming with people shopping, chatting, lunching, sipping tea. Why couldn't she have seen it then?
The man put his elbows on the table and folded his hands beneath his chin. "Where to begin... I suppose with the monarchy and the revolution."
"So there was a king." Hermes seemed pleased with this confirmation of his version of the fairy tale.