His hair was too dark, too long, but that could be explained by hair dye and the passage of time.
His skin was too light, but maybe he was sick from all this time in a cell…
I shook my head. The similarities were enough to trigger painful memories, but the differences were too pronounced. I wanted it to be my brother in there, but it wasn’t him. I’d have to find Tristan later.
On the far left was another prone figure, a boy. He looked a few years younger than me. His skin was even darker than the young woman’s, nearly pitch black. His head was shaved, and he had an extensive web-like tattoo in white ink across his forehead. No pool of blood around him, fortunately.
Upon seeing the woman continue to pound on the wall, I realized what I was seeing: prison cells. They were trapped inside.
And someone — possibly their jailor — was dead right outside.
Disconcerting.
I frowned, moving toward the corpse. The masked man raised a single hand while I approached, giving a curt shake of his head.
Was the body a trap? Or was he just saying that it was far too late for the victim?
Or maybe he didn’t want me to know how the man had been killed?
I glanced around the room, looking for anything vaguely cylindrically shaped on the walls. I didn’t find anything of the kind, but I did find a hexagonal panel on the floor, not far from where the man had fallen.
Was the dead man a candidate like me, someone who had stumbled upon the jail?
Resh.
Carefully, I went to the body, ignoring the masked man. I avoided the hexagonal shape, glancing from side to side as I knelt.
The woman who had been pounding on the wall gave me a curt nod.
I took that as sign that I was safe to continue, reached down, and rolled the body toward me.
I heard a click.
I jumped backward just in time to avoid the spear of light that flashed across the room from left to right, flickering and fading as it hit the opposite wall.
Shuddering where I stood, I looked down, finding a small depressed tile beneath the body I had just moved. I’d just re-triggered the trap that had killed him.
If I hadn’t seen the body, I might have died in the same way.
His eyes stared open in disbelief. I thought I recognized him from the line outside, but I was probably fooling myself. There were hundreds of candidates.
I had always known these tests had the potential to be fatal, but somehow, seeing this had finally made it real.
I leaned down and closed his eyes, shaking my head.
“I’m sorry you died like this. I hope your spirit finds peace.”
They were hollow words, and I knew it.
I searched through what he was carrying. It wouldn’t do him any good now.
There wasn’t much of use. He was wearing a sword and dagger on his belt. The dagger looked valuable, with the hilt being carved into a golden lion’s head. I left them both, instead taking the glove off his right hand. It had an unfamiliar symbol embroidered on it in gold, similar to my own glove. A family symbol.
I slipped it into my bag. I’d look for them.
I could feel the eyes of the prisoners on me, but I didn’t care. I continued going through his belongings, searching the pouches at his side. Food, water, a candle. A key, blue in color.
I took the key, putting it in my pack, and carefully made my way over to the crystalline walls of the cells.
“—hear me?” I caught the voice of the woman. She was a bit muffled, but audible. I watched every step as I approached, and just in case, I scanned the ceiling as well. I found a few more trap panels on the floor, but nothing visible on the roof.
“I can hear you,” I said at normal volume. She nodded, and the black-haired man finally moved, approaching the corner of his cell where he could get closest to us.
“Good. Don’t do anything yet.” She looked like she was talking loudly, nearly yelling. I could hear her a little better now that I was close. “Don’t touch the walls.”
I had been just about to touch the walls.
“Okay,” I said. “What’s going on here?”
The masked man tapped a fist on the inside of his wall. “Crystalline structure. Nearly unbreakable. I could manage it, but the cells are warded. If I broke mine, the wards on the other two would trigger defenses.”
Warded?
I glanced at the crystalline walls more carefully, narrowing my eyes. I wasn’t attuned yet, but I could see some hints of blue energy within the crystalline structure. They looked almost like hovering letters.
Yep, warded.
“Listen closely,” the woman said. “I’m Vera Corrington. If you help me get out of here, I can help get you nearly anything—”
“You should help the kid,” the man cut in. “He’s been unconscious for nearly two days. Dehydrated, most likely.”
“Don’t be a fool.” Vera glanced at the masked man. “The child has no chance of making it out on his own, and the key is only going to work once.”
I frowned, looking at Vera. “Exactly which key do you mean?”
Vera folded her arms. “The blue one you found on that poor bastard’s body. There should be locks outside each of our cells, but these things eat keys. You won’t be able to help all of us.”
The masked man walked to the center of his cell, tapping a part on the wall. I could just barely see a keyhole there, now that he was indicating it.
Resh. One key, three locks.
Was this a part of the test?
It easily could be seen that way, if I broke it down into component parts. A dead body to indicate the traps. I could only free one person. The obvious option — the child — might already be dead, and a waste of a key. A man and a woman were the other options, maybe to appeal to people of the opposite gender?
Or, of course, it could actually be a prison.
Had I found a place in the tower I wasn’t supposed to be?
It seemed unlikely. The goddess was supposed to observe everything in the tower and guide our paths. At least, according to legend.
Was it possible that the prison was real, but that the goddess had guided me here? To give me a chance to free one of them, or maybe all of them?
There were too many things I didn’t know. I had to treat the situation as real — meaning that I was actually being given a chance to free someone who was trapped in the tower.
Someone like Tristan.
“Has either of you met someone named Tristan? Another prisoner, maybe?”
The two adults looked at each other, and then both shook their heads.
The masked man spoke. “Others have come and gone, but I haven’t heard of anyone by that name.”
Vera jerked a thumb at the man. “This guy would know. He’s been in here for weeks, if you believe his stories. And he can survive longer, too, which is why you should free me.”
I sighed. Shouldn’t have hoped for anything this soon. I just need to stick to the plan and make the climb to the top.
In the meantime, maybe I can help someone else.
I scratched my chin. Truthfully, I wasn’t certain I should free anyone. If they were here, wasn’t that the goddess’ will?
Thinking that way wasn’t going to get me anywhere, though. If everything here was part of the goddess’ plan, freeing them was just as likely to be what Selys wanted. And if the goddess wanted people my age to bleed out on the floors of her towers, well, I wasn’t certain I could trust her judgment.
It was a blasphemous way to think, but Tristan’s disappearance had changed me.
I looked at the masked man. “Not making any argument for me to free you?”