“Okay,” I say, “Hardhead patrols are everywhere and most of ‘em don’t know me by sight anyway, but we’ll still need to be quick. I am not your minder, your tout, your courier, your whore. I’m not making any stops along the way. Jesper?”
When I look back he’s staring up into the sky of Sigil absolutely cage-struck. His jaw’s dropped and his eyes, even behind those super-thick otchkies of his, are wide as ever. Oh, I guess I forgot he hasn’t seen this before. The sky’s still kinda foggy, but it’s much clearer than the Hive, so this time he can see the parts of Sigil that lie on the other side of this bolshy ring. And when the folks on that side (mayhap in the Lady’s Ward or the Lower Ward a few miles across Sigil's circumference) look directly above, they’ll see the streets of the Clerk’s Ward. Yep, you’ll really think you’ve gone barmy when the whole sodding sky is barnacled with buildings, ancient and new! Jesper slowly lowers his gaze, but he’s no less shocked. The buildings here are fine cases, home to Sigil’s bureaucracy. The architecture is more elaborate, more beautiful, and more bombastic than anything in the Hive. Iron spires, bladed buttresses, and spiked fences soar into the sky, and the towering walls cut off some streets from daylight. The iron and stone buildings have all kinds of ornamental stone carvings; gargoyles and faces carved into pillars and rainspouts. The streets are made of well-cobbled white granite. The plazas and arcades are spotless, but they’re wide and straight, not narrow and tangled like the Hive. Fact is, a body can see that any direction in Sigil looks “uphill” when you’re in a ward like this.
“You can close your bone-box now, Jesper.”
“This…this is amazing…this place really is a giant ring. I’d only seen diagrams in tomes, but I never…”
“You never believed it?”
“Well I knew it was true, I just had a hard time imagining it.”