Towers [BOOK ONE]

Chapter Twenty-Three

A single day's travel, that was all. We could see it, like a beacon in the night, not far off--the Queen's city, spiraling around a large hill, with the castle rising majestically from its heart.

I sucked in a breath, then let it out again, an excited smile on my face.

"I can't believe it," said Emmy, her pale eyes shining in the dark.

"We did it," I said. "We journeyed the whole kingdom, from the highest north to the deepest south. We're here."

"We're alive," murmured Lily, with a look of gently fascination in her eyes. I suppose that she hadn't expected to ever escape that tower. If it weren't for us, she would have died there. We would never have known her.

"Amazing," said Channing, "isn't it, the things we've done, and how small they seem now that we're looking back on them."

I remembered how small and harmless the towers had seemed when I gazed down upon them from the mountains near our village. "Many things change."

We were so close. We'd come so far. But we didn't run to the Queen's city, overjoyed by the blessed sight of it. No--we slowed down, walking, and breathing, and blinking in the distant starlight, surrounded by the beauty of the midnight realm. Overhead, the stars sparkled like fairies' lights in the amethyst-blue depths of the sky, dazzling my eyes as I stared at them in wonder.

I can do anything I set my mind to, I thought, and I touched the blue jay's feather in my hair and smiled to myself.

~~~

"Oh my," said Emmy in a voice of surprised disbelief. "That's what the map meant by chasm."

We stood before a bottomless rift in the earth, like a vast ring surrounding the Queen's city, but as dark and jagged as the mountain cliffs that we'd nearly lost Lily to. A few halfhearted snowflakes drifted past, falling down, down, down, and never seeming to find anything but empty air below.

The darkness had blinded our eyes to the danger that lay between us and the city. Now, as dawn lightened the edges of the heavens, we realized that the trouble was anything but over.

"There is a bridge," Channing reasoned, but his words were uncertain. None of us wanted to acknowledge the old, unsteady rope bridge spanning the chasm, with many of its wooden boards broken or missing. A cold wind blew, causing it to sway and creak softly.

Lily shivered and hugged herself, taking a swift step back. "I'm not stepping a foot on that thing," she declared.

"It's not as if we can go around," Emmy said, studying the map. "The chasm circles the entire city. There's no other way to cross."

"That can't be right. Surely her Royal Ridiculousness has a real bridge somewhere."

"Perhaps. But we don't know where. This could be the only crossing for miles."

I bit my lip, eyeing the rope bridge. "We'll cross one at a time. Very slowly. Very carefully."

"It could still break," Lily began with a worried edge in her voice.

"We'll be fine," I insisted. "Because we've still got that rope, remember? We climbed a tower with it, and now we'll cross the Eternal Chasm with it. One of us will tie it round their waist before crossing, and then the others will pull it back in to be used again. Just in case."

Channing spoke decisively. "She's right. We can't stop, and we can't go back. We haven't got much a choice." He took the pack. "I'll cross first."

"What?" said Lily, her eyes growing round. "No. Not you, someone else."

Channing smiled wryly as he pulled out the long coil of rope. I prayed that it would be long enough. "I'll be fine, I promise. Don't worry about me."

"But I do worry," said Lily, stepping forward and holding his hand to keep him from tying the rope. "I worry very much. I'm crossing first."

Channing grew serious. "I can't let you."

"I'm not asking."

"It's dangerous."

"Exactly." Lily took the rope from his hands and smoothly wrapped it around her middle before any of us could stop her. Leaning forward, she whispered to him, "I'll be waiting for you on the other side. Be sure you're there." Striding over to the two stakes that supported the rope bridge, she stepped onto it and began to flit across.

Channing's eyes flashed with emotion-fear, anger, dread, worry. "Grab the rope," he said, turning to me, "quick, quick." I hastily snatched it up. "She's not going to fall. Right, Bird? She's Lily, she wouldn't let herself fall."

He paced, but his anxiety was in vain; Lily reached the other side with the swiftness and light-footed grace of a dancer. She was so far away, just a little figure on the far side of the chasm, waving her arms as a signal for us to draw the rope across.

I pulled it back. Channing was across in an instant, keeping his hands on the two ropes to his sides that hemmed him in. The length of rope quickly disappeared. It went slack, and I drew it back again.

"Emmy," I said, coming over and tying it for her. Then I knotted my end around my own waist and gave her an encouraging smile. "When you reach the other side, you'll have to hold onto the rope in turn to keep me from falling when I come after you."

She hugged me tightly. "Good luck, Bird," she said, and hurried across.

I waited until I saw that she had reached safety to approach the bridge. The wind had picked up, pulling at my hair and clothes. The bridge swayed perilously. What if it dumps me off? I wondered, feeling an icy knot of fear in my chest. I clasped my hands together; they were shaking. The others made it across. It'll be all right.

You can do anything you set your mind to, Bird.

I forced myself to take the first step. It was as terrifying as jumping off of a cliff; my mind rebelled, causing me to tense up and freeze in place. But I refused to be crippled by my fear. I've made it this far, I thought, clenching my teeth. I've survived the Sea of Sorrows, climbed the Middling Mountains, escaped a midbeast, and traversed the Forest of Echoes--and by my mother's grave, I am not going to give up now.

I made myself move. Eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping the ropes, I didn't let myself look down. The bridge lurched; I gasped, going still for a long moment before the wind finally settled again. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it.

Halfway there.

I walked faster now, confident that I could make it. The Queen's city hovered before me like a beautiful vision, seeming as tall and white as the mountains themselves.

It was then that I heard something snap.

No, no, no, I thought, blind with panic, stiff with horror, numb with shock, no, no, please no. Time seemed to cease. The fragile structure beneath me twitched, moved, jumped, sagged.

Channing shouted, "Bird, run! Just run!"

SNAP--SNAP--CRACK. And the ropes broke. And the bridge fell.