Moriarty's Elsedimension Mountain looked like a study that had kept growing for an Age and never once been tidied, and it could always look different.
Currently...
Shelves climbed its hollow heart in spirals, bowed under books and bones and jars of things that still twitched. Instruments of brass and glass hung from chanes overhead, some of them measuring, some of them only remembering how. Down the center of the great chamber ran a long stone table where specimens lay in careful rows, labeled in his small precise hand, and at the far end of it, under a sheet, lay the half-dissected remains of an Immense One he had been studying for a while.
The snow had reached even here. It drifted down from somewhere high in the dark and settled on the shelves, and Moriarty had given up brushing it off his books.
Poona sat cross-legged on his table, between a jar of preserved eyes and a tray of his pastries, eating the pastries!
