Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 352
came to phrasing such questions in stick-figures and glyphs.
But I could make the desal act for me. I insisted on sun
until the top of the shaft vanished, and daylight poured down
on me. I demanded that my wastes be carried away, and the
floor swallowed them as I slept. I requested food, and received
fruit and berries.
Two things I learned, that made me the queen of Iapysia.
The first was that I could paint my own images and freeze them
on the wall. The second thing I discovered was a trove of
information about the desals themselves.
This I came upon when I slapped a little whirling globe
and it flattened out into a map of the world. The continents
were clear, and I soon had my own nation spread before me,
with intricate colors and shapes showing landforms and
vegetation. I have never since seen anything like it. It was
dotted with tiny dome-glyphs, which I at first took to be cities.
They were in all the wrong places, though, and eventually I
realized they were desals.
They were joined by fine lines, in a kind of spiderweb.
The desals are joined by a subterranean highway system,
something tradition says is true, but for which we had no proof.
Now I could see it. And I could see the road that linked my
desal to others on the mainland.
I had painted a portrait of myself, and now an inspiration
struck me. I dragged that portrait to the island on the map
where I thought I was. The portrait vanished and reappeared in
miniature next to the little dome figure there. The desal had
told me I was correct. That was the island I was on.
Next I dragged the little portrait of myself onto the line of
the highway running under the sea between the island and the
mainland. Instantly the portrait slid out from under my fingers,
and zipped along the highway to wait flashing at the dome of a