MAP
The water town of Naias, spread beneath a dome on the deep seafloor. More places open up as the story unfolds.
GUIDE MAP
Naias is made up of eight districts. Tap the map to see it larger.
NAIAS — UNDER THE SEA
Daphne's house, in a prime spot along a branch of the Lethe Stream. A large wooden waterwheel turns with a steady clatter, powering every household spell in the building. Open the second-floor window and the canal is right there.
The emerald-green canal that runs right past the Mill House. In the morning Daphne pushes off in her canoe, while Pyxis and Powan play at the water's edge. This is where the day begins.
The central station where all the waterways meet. The ground floor is a station on the water, busy with magic canoes and current-trains. On the top deck, a huge sky-swimming ray — a Sky Ray — floats at its moorings. The liveliest place in town.
A marble bridge where light from the ceiling scatters and breaks into rainbow colours. It has the finest view in town, and is Daphne and Pyxis's favourite place for a walk.
An old library shaped like an enormous spiral shell. It quietly preserves ancient histories and magic books that will not tear even when wet. Listen closely and you can almost hear a distant song in the water.
Daphne's small room on the second floor of the Mill House, lined with collected shells, water silk scarves and a half-polished listening horn. The window seat is Pyxis's favourite place.
An old stone tower standing alone at the edge of town. It is the study of Daphne's teacher Baldo, its blackboards covered edge to edge with strange equations about the town's water pressure. For some reason, the noise of the town falls away around it and sounds do not echo there. No one yet knows where the name came from.
A stylish café on the canal. Glowing plankton flicker gently inside glass tanks, and from the terrace you can watch curtains of light falling from the surface far above while you drink your tea. Daphne's favourite spot.
A lively market spread across the canal. Glasswork that glimmers like pearls, luminous fish, bolts of water-repelling water silk — the stalls are packed with things that are a pleasure just to look at. At night, after the shops close, only the lanterns remain lit and the place falls into a very different kind of quiet.
A bar hidden far below the Silent Tower, at the bottom of the canal. Beyond the great arched window the lights of the underwater town drift past, and now and then a fish crosses the view. A small lamp glows on every table. Behind the counter, Baldo quietly pours a cocktail that shines blue.
A forest of tall trees along the town's outer edge. Their leaves are thin and translucent, so whenever the wind passes, the light through the branches ripples like the surface of water — that is where the name comes from. Clear spring water runs shallow over the ground, and moss and ferns cover the roots. No sound from the town reaches this far.
A wide river that moves slowly through the middle of town. Both banks are lined with old stone paving worn smooth by the water, stepping down to the waterline. The current makes almost no sound; it is simply deep. The story goes that if you stand on the bank and watch it, your mind grows quiet.
A white-sand beach at the far edge of town, where the land simply stops. Small shells and sea glass are scattered through the fine sand, and clear shallow waves come and go. Look up, and the “sky” seems closer here than anywhere else — a slightly strange stretch of shore.
A fine restaurant of white marble, built out over the canal and named after Triton, son of the sea god. It is known for sautéed river fish and desserts chilled by magic. After closing, only the lamps on the tables remain lit, and the room becomes surprisingly quiet.
A second-hand bookshop and café on one of the canals. Its upper walls and ceiling are lattice windows of coloured glass, so the light that reaches down through the water falls across the shelves in bands of cobalt and gold. A narrow channel of water runs through the middle of the room, edged with water plants and flowers. The owner rarely comes out. Anyone may stay as long as they like.
A quarter of timber-framed houses along the canals. In the golden season, the light that reaches down through the water turns amber, and the trees along the canals turn gold. Leaves float on the water, a waterwheel turns beside a house, and water-silk dries on the rooftops and on the looms of a small workshop. In the evening, the first lamps are lit along the marble quay.
ABOVE THE SEA OF CLOUDS
The real sky, beyond the place where the ceiling of the sea broke open. We visit it little by little as the story unfolds.
An enormous rocky mountain floating above the white sea of clouds with nothing beneath it. A town clings to its slopes in terraces. Airships and small flying boats come and go from the port without pause. The wind is dry, and overhead lies a real sky with nothing in the way. The first place Daphne ever set foot in the world above.
Where a stairway cut into the side of a floating island opens out into one wide landing. Travellers stop here and wait for the wind to change. Water is scarce up here, so a mesh screen combs it out of the drifting fog, and a brass gutter carries it down to a shallow stone basin. Pyxis has claimed the rim of the basin.
A garage that smells a little of oil, clinging to the slope of the floating island. It is Elios's home, and his hideout. Inside there is barely room to stand for old gears, rusted tools and scrap parts. Out front sits his wrecked flying boat, which he means to mend and fly again one day. There is no water here, so only the sound of tools rings out, dry.
A botanical garden at the heart of the floating island. A dry wind rustles through it all the time. The ground is cracked like a desert, and the flowerbeds hold nothing but soil and sand. Only dry, thorny plants grow here, and yet a few of them carry two or three small white flowers, as if they had bloomed by mistake. The channels are empty; a single drop hangs from the end of a brass tap. Nets for catching water out of the fog are strung between the pillars. In the world above, water does not fall from the sky.
The route an airship takes from the floating island out over the sea of cloud at night. Overhead, with nothing in the way, tens of thousands of real stars shine cold and bright as diamonds. Brass lamps, a wooden wheel, an old star chart. In one place the cloud breaks open, and very far below there is a small glass sphere glowing emerald green. The one place from which the town at the bottom of the sea can be seen from outside.
The world is still growing. New places will join the map as the story unfolds.