“When did you first know you’d be a neurosurgeon?” Samantha asks. “I mean, really know?” Her hand is on my forearm now. She’s just being friendly.
And I’m just being nice. She’s trying to make it as a nurse. I tell her I’d wanted to be a doctor ever since high school, back when we knew each other. Then I tell a story about medical school, studying the brain, and realizing I had a special gift in understanding it.
Another copper drink comes for me, and a pinkish one for her. The glass in her hand has a bright red cherry in it. But it’s not as red as her lips.
My drink is almost empty when Samantha says she wants to show me something in her room. It’s a paper about a new surgical procedure. She has some questions about it. No big deal.
We ride the elevator together. She stands close to me. It’s warmer that way. It’s still snowing outside. And she’s an old friend.
We reach her hotel room. She holds the door open for me.
13
GUILT LAYS ON ME like an anvil, pressed against my chest, pinning me to the hard, rocky ground of the mountainside. Three bright suns shine down from the clear blue sky. I’m still alive. The dragon blasted me with fire, but I don’t feel burned. This pain is different, maybe worse. The latest memory draws a straight line between two points in time. I’d tried out for the rowing team just to meet Samantha Jones. She’d been the girl of my high school dreams, forever out of reach. But decades later, Dr. Fitzoy had changed that. How did it happen? And why didn’t I marry her?
Whatever the reason, passion made me a fool, a cheat. Now that the memory is back, it’s another tumor that can’t be removed, not even by a neurosurgeon like Dr. Paul Fitzroy. All it takes is one little word or thought to make the right neurons fire, and the memory comes back to mind as if no time had passed at all. Time does not heal wounds. I remember a patient once asking me if I could cut out part of his brain, to take a memory away. No, I’d said. It’s too dangerous, and there’s no guarantee of success. Bad memories are like cockroaches. They know how to survive anything.
But what if it’s different here, in the towers?
I started with no memories at all in the Blue Tower. Is there some way to keep them from coming back, to erase them, or to heal them? Abram told me the Scouring could purify our memories. He said it was a process. In Blue my old pride felt cleansed. Now Red shows me...Samantha. Can that be scoured? Maybe even painful memories could be used for good. It’s a hope worth clinging to.
Footsteps approach, knocking loose rocks that roll down the steep slope. I hurry to my feet and suddenly realize my clothes are...gone. My boots and bag are gone, too, and there’s a circle of ashes around me. Apparently only my body gets to be invincible to dragon fire. I cover myself with my hands.
The thin figure climbing toward me is similarly bare. It’s Marcus.
“Nice outfit,” he says with a smirk.
“Thanks. You too. I think the fire...”
“Yeah, I know,” he says, glancing down. “At least it only burned clothes.”
“Did it show you anything?”
He nods. “A memory.”
We’re quiet then. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. Neither do I.
“Where’s Seymour?” I ask.
“No clue. I haven’t seen any sign of him.”
That’s weird. He was right behind me. He must have been hit by the fire just like I did. I look to where he was standing, expecting to see a pile of ashes, but there’s only reddish dirt and stones, with no footprints leading away. Except...
“We should go back,” Marcus says. “We won’t make it long out here without food or clothes.”
“Wait.” I move to where Seymour had been standing. Pressed into the dirt is the dragon’s tooth that he had been holding. I kneel down and pick it up with both hands. The tooth is faded yellow like a fossil, but still long and sharp as a cutlass.
“A tooth?” Marcus asks, looking over my shoulder. “How?”
“Seymour got it in the lair. There was a pile of gold, too. We might have made it out if he hadn’t tried to take the gold. I don’t know how the tooth is still here if Seymour isn’t. It doesn’t make sense...”
“Nothing we can do about it,” Marcus says. “There’s no use looking for him.”
I consider objecting, but I know Marcus is probably right. He begins walking away. With the tooth in hand, I take a final glance at where Seymour had stood, and to the ridge. There’s no living creature in sight.
I follow Marcus down the steep mountainside. Neither of us speaks. I miss Seymour’s chattering. It distracted me from my thoughts and memories. In the quiet, I focus on taking one step at a time. It doesn’t take long for my bare feet to collect scrapes and bruises from the rocky ground. Marcus doesn’t complain, so I don’t either.
We return the same way we came. We cross the tree-trunk bridge and stop by the riverside for water. My feet hurt badly. I think about Samantha, and my wife. I wonder what Marcus is thinking about—the Roman Colosseum, a fight, a woman? I’m not brave enough to ask, because I’m not brave enough to tell him what I saw.
“You hungry?” I ask.
“Sure,” he says. “You have food?”
I point downstream to a small bush that Seymour had identified. It has a few blueberries scattered among its branches. We pick them and sit beside each other and eat. We stare up toward the ridge with the dragon lair, and the ranges of mountains behind it. The three suns hang low in the sky. In the opposite direction, beyond the distant Red Tower, the sky is going gray, sliding into darkness, like a dimmer switch pressed ever so slowly down.
“You know why we have three suns?” I ask.
“No,” Marcus says. “Do you?”
“No clue.”
Marcus sighs, closing his eyes. “I loved the old sun, the one on earth. I loved feeling its warm light on my face. I loved seeing it reflect off my sword.”
“I loved watching it set,” I say, “dropping like a ball into the ocean.”
A few moments pass in quiet. We finish the berries.
Marcus stands. “Ready?”
I stay seated on the ground. My feet are killing me. Marcus’s feet look as bloodied as mine. Even with our boots on it took us half a day to get from the Red Tower to here, and that was going downhill.
“No,” I say. “It’s going to be dark soon. I need rest. Can’t we sleep here and go the rest of the way tomorrow?”
He studies me, then nods. “It’ll be cold without a fire.”
It is cold, but we sleep deeply. It helps.
The next morning we head out, with nothing to pack and nothing to carry except a dragon’s tooth. With our feet hurting, we make slow progress limping and hobbling up the steep slope to the Red Tower.
The sky is dark by the time we reach the thin bridge. A huge flame flickers on the top. It lights our way forward. This time I do not crawl across the bridge. I walk.
When I reach the other side, I glance back as if hoping to see Seymour following us. But he’s not there. The tower’s fires cast shadows of Marcus and me. The shadows extend the entire length of the bridge and dance like ghosts in the flickering light. We left with clothes and supplies and three people. Now two of us return with nothing but a tooth and more memories. Not a good deal.
Marcus and I pass between two torches on either side of the open iron doorway. Once we’re inside, the door falls shut behind us. We’re both covering ourselves, ready to be embarrassed, but there’s no one waiting for us. I guess I had expected some kind of welcoming party. We have the dragon tooth. We win, right?
“What now?” I ask.
“I’ll get us new clothes and boots,” Marcus says. “Then we show Rahab the tooth.”
14
“ALPHA! ALPHA! ALPHA!”
The chant grows louder as Marcus and I approach the Feasting Hall. He’d found us both fresh clothes and boots before anyone saw us. Everyone must be in the Feasting Hall. Now we hear them, chanting with a shout of celebr
ation, of honor for a victor. But it’s not for us, even though I carry the tooth wrapped in a bag slung over my shoulder.
“Alpha! Alpha! Alpha!”
When we reach the doorway to the Hall, the crowd is gathered before Rahab’s throne. Her red dress glimmers like lava against the rust-colored rock of the throne. This time there’s someone on the throne beside hers. It’s Max—who everyone here knows as Axe—with his arms raised as the chant continues. He no longer wears a collar around his neck.
I lean close to Marcus as we approach the crowd. “What’s this about?”
“He must have captured someone, so now he’s the Alpha,” Marcus says. “This happens whenever a boy captures someone in the Scouring.”
We join the edge of the crowd. Marcus surprises me by starting to chant with the others, lifting his fist into the air with each shout, “Alpha! Alpha! Alpha!”
This goes on and on. I can’t bring myself to join in. Why should I care if this guy happened to catch someone in the Scouring? I caught plenty when I was in the Blue Tower. I scan the crowd for my Mom but don’t see her. No sign of Seymour either. No Emma, Kiyo, or anyone I truly know. Marcus seems to care more about the Alpha than what we just went through. It makes me feel very alone.
Finally Max—or Axe or Alpha—stands from his throne. The cheering continues as Rahab rises from the throne by his side. She holds up a golden crown that glows like fire in the light of the Feasting Hall.
A ripple of “ahhs” momentarily replaces the chant from the crowd.
“Your new Alpha!” Rahab announces, as she lowers the crown onto his head.
The chants come again, even louder. “Alpha! Alpha! Alpha!”
I put my fingers in my ears. My eyes close. The chant throbs around me like waves pounding against rock. A memory I’d seen in the Blue Tower surges up amidst the throbbing sound. A crowd had gathered around me when I was a surgeon. They had cheered for my work, for saving a life after a successful operation. I had loved it, basking in the praise. Axe must feel like that now.
The chanting begins to fade. I open my eyes and see flames extending high above Rahab’s arms. “We have gone too long without an Alpha,” she says. “We have gone too long without victory!”
The crowd cheers.
“Now we will restore Red’s proper place,” Rahab says. “We have taken from Black. We will take the lead again, and your Alpha will show the way. As is the Alpha’s right, he will choose servants and take his rightful place in the highest quarters of the Red Tower. And you will give him the honor that he is due.”
Rahab’s flames extinguish as she sits. Axe now stands alone before the crowd, above us like a king. Boys and girls alike begin to bow, falling to their knees.
“Thank you, thank you,” Axe says, a wide smile on his face. “Now let’s celebrate! Bring out the cask!”
There’s a rush of action. A large, round cask is hauled out and placed at the end of the table that stretches the entire length of the Hall. People begin to fill their cups. When Axe steps down from the throne and the dais, the crowd parts for him. He goes straight to the cask and holds up a huge mug under the running tap of liquid until it flows over and spills out onto the floor. He laughs and jumps on the table and drinks it down while the crowd cheers again, Alpha! Alpha!
Once the mug is drained, Axe starts to sing. Everyone around me joins in raucously. The words I manage to understand make me cringe. In Blue we sat in classes and used our minds. Here it’s all passionate revelry. The crowd sways as the song comes to its chorus:
Fire, fire, fire,
It all burns in fire.
As the song ends, many around me begin to pair off, boy and girl. The singing and dancing continue, and I start to back away, alone.
An arm grabs mine.
Marcus. A girl is close by his side.
“Come on!” he shouts over the singing. “We have to show them what we brought back.”
The tooth. I’d almost forgotten it among the chaos.
Marcus doesn’t wait for an answer. He grabs the bag from my shoulder and pulls me with him as he starts to wade through the crowd. He heads straight toward Axe, still on top of the table. Without waiting for me, Marcus leaps up beside Axe and grabs his arm to get his attention. I watch in shock. I’ve never seen Marcus so excited about anything. And he’s said we’d show the tooth to Rahab, not Axe. What’s come over him?
Axe stops, glaring at Marcus. Others go still and quiet around him, following his lead. “You think you belong here?” Axe demands.
Marcus falls to a knee and lifts his hands, holding out the tooth like it’s an offering. “I’m Marcus.” He glances back to me. “That is Cipher. We have brought back this for you.”
Axe looks down at the tooth, then at Marcus, then at the crowd. His eyes pass over me uncertainly. I count two breaths that pass in tense quiet.
“A dragon tooth!” Axe suddenly shouts, raising his arms in victory. “Our power grows! Well done, Marcus.” He takes the tooth and then grabs Marcus’ hand and raises it overhead. “Look and learn, friends. Marcus has earned a spot in the Scouring, with me. Welcome to group one!”
As the crowd cheers, Marcus smiles and motions for me to join him. “Cipher, too,” Marcus says to Axe. “He was with me.”
I step forward.
Axe looks down at me. A look of disappointment passes over his eyes. “He’s small. Just him?” he asks.
“Yes,” Marcus says. “We lost our third.”
“So be it. Marcus and Cipher, to group one!” Axe drapes arm over Marcus’ shoulder and starts to sing again. “We fight till we die. Fire, fire, fire...”
Everyone joins in. A few people slap my back in congratulations. At least Marcus remembered to mention me. But I have a bad feeling about the promotion. I manage to slip away from the partying crowd and move toward the door. As I am passing, I look up at the board that shows all the tasks.
There’s something that wasn’t there before. An arrow points from the right of task number 1, the Scouring, to a list of many names, with Axe at the top. There are fifteen names total. Two of them are crossed out: Lin and Rose.
I swallow. My Mom?
Three new names are at the bottom of the list: Ellen, Hank, and Emma.
Hank? Emma? From Blue?
“Notice anything?” Rahab asks beside me. I hadn’t heard her coming.
“What does it mean?” I ask.
“Rose was captured,” she says. “We lost two, gained three. Not bad, right?”
“Which tower took her?”
Rahab shrugs. “Axe said Black attacked. Could have been them.”
Her casual tone makes my blood boil. I take a deep breath. Don’t use power. Don’t use power. “And the ones Axe captured, Emma and Hank,” I say stiffly, “where are they?”
“They start at the bottom,” she answers. “Don’t bother looking for them. They’re locked away for now.”
“And their memories?”
Rahab’s eyes burn into me. “Probably seared away. Behemoth decides. That’s usually what it takes for them to become Red. Most do not come here as...contaminated as you.”
I’m not sure what she means, but her words make me think of the memory of Samantha. My gaze drops to the floor. “I know I’m not pure.”
“Ah, but you will be scoured,” she says. “Don’t let shame hold you back. Your passion must grow.”
“Passion was my problem.”
“No, no,” Rahab says, lifting my face by the chin until our eyes are level. “Untamed passion, perhaps. But there are worse faults, like having no passion at all.”
I feel exposed under her glare, like she knows exactly what I’ve seen. “I don’t understand.”
“You will, Dr. Fitzroy. Passion can be redeemed. Shame can be scoured. The fire burns at first, but it refines in time.”
For the first time, she sounds like Abram. “How does it work here?” I ask.
“Begin by admitting, out loud, what you’ve done. We have the Pairi
ng for a reason. Tell the girl who pairs with you. All of it.”
Emma flashes into my mind. We shared memories like this in the Blue Tower. She is a healer. She knows me. If anyone can help me recover, it’s her. If she’s really here, would we be able to pair? Would she remember me? I can’t imagine telling anyone else what I’ve seen.
“Where can I find Emma?” I ask.
“You can’t,” Rahab says.
“Why not?”
“She is not yours to find. She has already been claimed.”
Already claimed? “What do you mean?”
“Enough questions,” Rahab says impatiently. “Prove that you can serve the Alpha, the Red Tower, and me. Prove that you are ready to advance, and then we will talk more.” She spins away and strides back toward her throne at the front of the Feasting Hall.
The huge room is even louder than before. Boys and girls singing, shouting, dancing. No one tries to stop me as I leave. Emma is here now. I have to try to find her, no matter what Rahab said. But the leader did give me a clue: they start at the bottom.
Down through the tower it is.
It doesn’t take long to get lost in the twisting corridors of hewn red rock. My feet hurt badly from the barefoot hike with Marcus. They throb inside my boots.
By the time I stop and sit against a wall, I feel more frustrated than ever. I came all the way to the Red Tower only for my Mom to be captured by Black, and for my new friend Seymour to have been burnt up by a dragon. His memories were probably wiped. Now Emma and Hank might be wiped, too.
Tears start to fill my eyes. I hug my knees and stare into the flames of a torch on the wall.
The Red Tower (The Five Towers Book 2) Page 7