Towers [BOOK ONE]

Chapter Forty-Nine

Melody ripped off a long strip of paper from the corner of a map, hastily scribbling a message on it. It's time. We need you. Danger. There wasn't room for anything else.

The dove took flight, carrying the message aloft. Our only hope.

"They won't be here in time. We need to get free."

Melody didn't answer, just strode over to the bed and took a handful of white sheets in her hands. She tore them in two. "We'll make a rope."

I glanced to the window by the desk. "It's too small, we won't fit through."

"Wrong one."

I stared at her, perplexed. The other window took up a whole wall, and it was nothing but immovable glass. It didn't open. Remember, Bird. This is Melody you're dealing with. Did I trust her? Completely.

I joined her, shredding the sheets into long, narrow strips and braiding them tightly together for strength. "We're so far up. Will it reach the ground?"

"No. No, you're right, it won't." She stood and tested the bed curtains. "Use the dresses. There's plenty of material there. Not doing any of good sitting in the wardrobe, is it?"

We shared a grin, then kept working.

There isn't much time.

How long would it take for the rebels to gather? How many would come? How many could?

I glanced beyond as I worked, carefully picking away the stitches and separating the pieces to salvage as much cloth as possible. The sky outside was so big. It felt...almost sentient, like a mother with endless eyes. Alive, and blue, and very vast. The whole world's a sky, Bird.

Our rope grew longer, piling around the room in curling, tangled, patchwork heaps. I discovered dozens of old dress ties in a drawer, most likely never used. "They'll do. Use the angel's veil knot, it's the strongest."

I obeyed. We worked in general silence, too grim and hurried to risk a conversation. If Vang or his men were to enter, we'd be doomed.

At length, there wasn't a scrap of cloth left in the room. Melody and I had even torn up our petticoats to make more. One of my socks was missing—I must have knotted it onto the strand along with the other strips without noticing. Doesn't matter.

We knotted the end to the bedpost and dragged the wardrobe in front of the door. Just in case.

"We're done," said Melody. Tiredly, I looked at her, waiting for whatever we needed to do next.

She pulled something from her pocket. A glint of gold. It was the bauble.

"It's heavy enough," she mumbled to herself, then—taking a deep breath—drew back and hurled it at the window.

The whole wall shattered with a startling crash, and in an instant, we were surrounded by a wild, howling wind. Glass—glass was everywhere, swept madly through the room like a swarm of stinging wasps. I ducked down, eyes wide. Melody took the rope in hand.

"What's going on in there?" A voice. The guards had heard the commotion. Someone pounded on the door. "Open up by order of Commander Vang!"

"Quickly now," said Melody, carrying the bundle of knotted cloth to the gaping window. She let it drop. The rest followed, sliding out like a patchwork serpent. But the end, tied to the bedpost, held firm. "I wouldn't put it past them to cut the line short, with us halfway down it."

I joined her. Our hair blew wildly, violently. So much wind. And such a long fall. I remembered flying; this wasn't even vaguely like that. This...this was nothing short of dangling, helplessly, over the Eternal Chasm's yawning mouth. Staring death in the face.