BEWARE THE RIGHT-ANGLED ONES!
“But if you do not know where you must go,” continued Willkoad, “then let us ask the priests. Come with me: there is a church of the Dreamer nearby. I shall take you to its vicar. If anyone would know of troubles on the streets, it would be him.”
I was surprised. “What? The Church has opened a fane here?” The Dreamers were one of Seacity’s oldest faiths, and most respected; its warriors were instrumental in breaking the ancestors of the Kee in battle. They were unpopular among the Kee for precisely the same reason.
Willkoad looked pained. “Excuse me, good Guardian: here in the district it is a ‘church,’ not a ‘fane.’ I beg forgiveness for the correction, but words matter to us poor, foolish Kee. The Church has found it easier going to allow us these harmless… accommodations.”
The thought of taking counsel with a priest of the Dreamers — someone like me, if likely old-fashioned and censorious of the modern world — was a powerful appeal. Or perhaps it was simply the idea of having someone with more authority or knowledge to heed. Whatever the reason, I allowed myself to follow Willkoad as we walked deeper into the District, and its painfully straight streets. I do not know for how long, or in which direction; each corner was like the next, each street was a twin to its neighbor, and no place was distinct enough to fix itself in my memory. I was soon lost in this maze of rectangles and boxes.
Ahhh. The Kee are our world, infecting theirs.
…probably.
You do like stacking twists on twists, sometimes.