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I nodded. “I take it you’re this Voice?”

“Yes. I know you wish for more information, but I must leave. A battle still rages and even moments may make a difference.”

I thought of Keras and Katashi. Was this Voice going to go help one of them?

I really wanted to know more, but I didn’t know enough to question the Voice’s decision, and I believed that moments might be relevant.

“One last question. My brother entered this tower and never returned. His name is Tristan. Do you know where I can find him?”

The Voice hovered in silence for a moment. The hood shifted downward just enough for me to notice. “I am sorry. Thousands come and go each year. I cannot help you.”

Another chance lost.

The tower shook, jarring me out of my thoughts. “I understand. Thank you again for everything.”

The hooded robe vanished. I heard a voice in the air as it disappeared. “Leave quickly, while you still can.”

I stared for a moment at where it had been.

Quickly was somewhat ambiguous, at least. I could take a few minutes.

I knew that people were supposed to lose some of their memories of the tower when they left. I also knew they kept what they had found inside.

I had a book and a quill. I hoped the Voice wouldn’t be too irritated if I used them for a more conventional purpose.

The tower shook as I wrote the most important notes I could think of.

Found prisoners and freed them. Tristan was not among them. One of them, Vera, betrayed me and fled with an unconscious child. Not sure why.

Another, Keras, is currently fighting with the Visage of Valor. Yes, seriously. He is doing surprisingly well, but from the shaking in the tower, I don’t know how long he’ll last.

This book is connected to an entity called the Voice of the Tower. The Voice has instructed me to find Lyras Orden and tell her to talk to him. It? Anyway, that’s a thing I need to do. Also, I shouldn’t tell others about the prisoners.

Katashi may want to kill me because of what I know and/or because I helped Keras a little. This could prove inconvenient.

The Voice doesn’t know where Tristan is, but if there are prisoners here, there’s hope. It’s much more likely the goddess will return him if he’s still alive.

I finished taking my notes. I’d originally planned to record everything I’d seen in the tower, but the shaking was getting worse. I saw cracks forming in the walls of my room. The Voice didn’t reply to my writing. Presumably, it was busy.

More shaking. Tiny pieces of masonry fell from the ceiling.

Was there anything else I needed to do before I left the tower?

I looked at the font where I’d gained my attunement, where the Voice had procured a magic weapon by trading in a terrible one. I really, really wanted to pour everything from my backpack in there. Somehow I doubted the goddess would appreciate that, though.

I settled for emptying out my flask of water on the floor of the room and dipping it into the pool. I filled it to the brim.

Would the goddess be offended by such a small thing? I hoped not.

The room shook again, a fist-sized chunk of stone falling from above and landing inches from where I stood.

I’m going to hope that was a coincidence. Either way, it’s time to go.

I stoppered the water flask, put it in my bag, and moved with purpose out the tower doors.

* * *

I was out of the tower.

I took a minute to just close my eyes and breathe.

I survived.

It felt good to be alive. It felt even better to finally have some tangible progress toward getting Tristan back.

It was going to be a long journey, but I’d finally taken a step closer to reuniting my family.

Standing here isn’t going to get you any closer, though.

I opened my eyes.

The sky was dark overhead, and I could see clouds gathering. Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about rain on the way home. The environmental shield that covered the city was barely visible from my vantage point, but I could see the telltale shimmer a few hundred feet up.

I knew what rain and snow were intellectually, but I’d never felt them. Maybe I’d get a chance someday. For the moment, I had more important things to concentrate on.

There were no guards next to my particular exit, which was a bit of a surprise. I knew I’d probably taken a non-standard route through the tower, but I still expected to be escorted by guards to a nearby celebration area as soon as I finished. That was standard procedure, as I understood it.

I could see the tall celebration tents in the distance and a couple people gradually approaching them.

I took another minute, gathering my thoughts and checking the contents of my pack. At a glance, everything was still there. I still had the sword with me, too.

The book’s writing remained intact. Good.

It took me a moment to realize that I remembered writing in the book, and I knew why I was checking it.

My memories hadn’t been erased. Not yet, at least.

Was it because I had taken a non-standard exit? Or perhaps because the Voice had helped me somehow? I wasn’t sure. And I certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not yet, at least.

I took a moment to draw a crude map of the rooms I’d explored in the tower. Just boxes with a word in each to show what they represented. I’d write more about them later if I could, but I didn’t think the map would help me much for a couple reasons.

First, the tower was always changing. Even if I walked in the same door it was likely I’d end up in a completely different place. The connections between rooms would change, too.

Second, and more importantly, I couldn’t go back in through the same gate. The Gate of Judgment could be used precisely once per person. Next time I entered the tower, I’d have to use one of the other, far more dangerous entrances. The ones designed for climbers who were intent on reaching the top of the tower.

If I wanted to survive going into the deadlier parts of the tower, I’d need to learn how to master my attunement. Even Vera, who had an attunement that wasn’t built for combat, had proven that she was vastly more capable than I was. I couldn’t have possibly survived that spire guardian room without her — and that was just a single room on the first floor.

Now that I’d completed my Judgment, my highest priority was to train. To study. To get stronger.

And when I was ready, I’d start climbing to the top to save my brother.

I decided that I’d eventually try to write up my notes on the tower rooms and publish them for future tower entrants. I wanted to do anything I could to try to prevent others from failing their Judgments.

But for the moment, I had more far more pressing concerns.

I’d seen a lot of flashy magic over the years. My father and mother were both expert combatants, and I’d seen both of them absolutely demolish people in structured combat tournaments.

But neither they, nor anyone I’d ever met, had a fraction of the power that Katashi did. Visages could — and had — leveled cities. It was very likely that what I’d seen in his battle with Keras was just a fraction of his power, probably to prevent collateral damage.