by Silver Milan
At the end of the day, the formerly pristine white robes worn by the apprentices were grimy, so Walter made them hand wash the clothes. It involved carrying empty tubs of water to their floor, filling them up in the shared bathroom, then lugging the tubs back to their rooms and stripping off the clothes to wash them. Afterward they hung the wet robes to dry from clotheslines outside their windows, changed into the spare robes Walter had provided them with, dumped the black water back in the sink, then returned the empty tubs to the storage area.
“Whatever happened to washing and drying machines?” Katelyn complained at one point.
“Those are luxuries reserved for the higher years,” Walter said. “In the past, we used to make First Years do everyone’s laundry. If you keep complaining, I’ll talk to the president about restoring that practice.”
They had supper at eight o’clock in the dining hall, which consisted of a slab of meat and a piece of bread, and then returned to the fifteenth floor, finally finished for the night.
Ariel lay on the bottommost bunk, exhausted.
Michelle had gravitated toward the window, and she gazed past the hanging clothes. “You know, I’m tempted to just leap out this window and transform into my falcon.”
Ariel sat up. “You mean to fly away for good? But it’s only the first day.”
“No, I’d come back,” Michelle said. “Or at least, that’s what I’m telling myself.”
“You really feel like flying after all the work we did today?”
“I’m tired,” Michelle said. “But I could do it.” Michelle stared out the window for several moments, then shook her head. “Then again, I’m starting to wonder if I really would come back.”
“There are other reasons why it probably isn’t the best idea to dive out there…” Ariel said. “Walter did say we’re not allowed to change without permission.”
“That’s very true,” Michelle said. “There’s so little we know about this place… the witches probably have some spell in place to detect any flying shifters. Or not a spell, a Weave… I guess I should start using the proper terms if I’m going to train as a witch. Err, Wayfarer. What if the guards have orders to shoot down any large birds that get too close to the tower? Even if none of that is true, they still have us at a disadvantage, because we just don’t know either way. So no, I’m not flying out there.”
A part of Ariel was hoping Michelle would act as a litmus test of sorts… if Michelle could roam the skies around the tower safely, then so could Jett. But she realized it was cruel of her to want her friend to serve as a guinea pig, because Michelle was nowhere near as strong as a dragon. If anything went wrong out there—say the guards really did shoot her down—then she could die. Jett, on the other hand, wouldn’t even have a scratch on him. He’d just turn around, flip the guards the bird, and then continue on his way.
“Can I see your lioness?” Michelle asked, drawing Ariel from her thoughts.
“If I can see your falcon,” Ariel replied. “If we’re going to break the rules, I don’t want to do it alone.”
Michelle smiled slyly, then began to shrink; in seconds she was gone, her robe a messy pile on the ground. Near the chest area remained a large lump.
That shape shifted upward underneath the fabric, and a moment later a beautiful falcon pushed out of the collar. The bird walked forward, head bobbing slightly with each step. Then it flapped its wings and leaped onto the windowsill.
“You’re so beautiful,” Ariel said.
The falcon cooed softly, and nodded toward the floor as if urging Ariel to fulfill her part of the bargain.
Ariel changed. She shrugged off the robe and stretched her powerful limbs. She felt an immediate sense of freedom, at least at first, but as she examined her surroundings, the all-too-close walls felt like a vise. She spun in multiple directions, looking for a way out. She spotted Michelle in falcon form, and couldn’t help but loosing a feral growl. The bird extended its wings, giving them a defensive flap.
Ariel turned toward the door. All of her instincts were shouting at her to break down that door and flee.
She crouched on her hind legs and prepared to do that very thing.
She slammed down on her inner beast, forced herself to change back, and collapsed, naked, panting on the stone floor.
“What’s wrong?” Michelle said. Her friend was human once more, and hurried to Ariel’s side.
“This place is too claustrophobic for me to take lion form,” Ariel said. “As a lioness, I’m used to running free, but I couldn’t do that. Finding myself cooped up in this small room was just too much. All my instincts told me to run. I’m supposed to be in control of my instincts, a master of my inner beast, but I was finding it very hard to rein in those instincts. I don’t think I’ll be allowing myself to transform very often. I see why Walter doesn’t want us changing without permission.”
She took a nightgown from her locker, put it on, and lay down on the bed. Michelle climbed to the top bunk and squeezed into the literal crawlspace between the mattress and the ceiling.
“Tell me again why I let you have the bottom bunk?” Michelle said. Her voice sounded slightly muffled.
“We drew virtual straws,” Ariel said.
“Oh yeah,” Michelle said. “But you cheated.”
“How?” Ariel said. “We ran the app on your phone?”
“Damn, I guess there’s really no way I can cry foul, is there?” Michelle said. “What if I appealed to your conscience to help a friend out? I mean come on, I can’t even lift my head without banging it on the ceiling.”
Ariel smiled wearily. “Nope. I won the bottom bunk fair and square. I don’t have all that much room down here either, you know.”
Ariel closed her eyes and was just about asleep when her sat-phone buzzed on the tiny nightstand at the head of the bed.
She reached for it immediately and read the text.
Flying to Belgrade with the entire pride. Arriving early tomorrow morning. Just in time to see you.
That was a bit of a shock: she hadn’t actually expected him to uproot the whole pride along with him. But then again, they did all swear blood oaths, so maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised.
Seeing me won’t be so easy. She attached the pictures she had taken earlier, showing how well-defended the tower was.
Ha, you think those scare me? Jett responded. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow night.
Ariel frowned and sent: I thought we agreed you’d only come on weekends?
Um, tomorrow is Friday night.
She reddened slightly. Oh. You’re right. Guess I’ve lost track of time already.
I’ll also be coming Saturday night.
On the one hand she wanted him there, and badly, but on the other, she didn’t want him to risk his life for her.
I don’t think you’ll be able to fly directly to my window, Ariel typed. I have a feeling the witches have set up Weaves or something to track airborne objects. Either that, or plain old radar. And not so much to keep intruders out, if you catch my drift.
No, they wouldn’t want shifter apprentices to escape by air, Jett sent. So you’re probably right. I was planning to come in from the ground, anyway. Once I got close to the Tower, then I’d take to the air, hugging the wall.
She sighed. Well, if she couldn’t convince him to give up, Ariel was determined to be his inside woman.
I guess I’ll take more pictures of the grounds tomorrow, when I can. Try to get you a better idea of what to expect.
That’s my girl. Also see if you can me get an idea of the guard patrol schedule. I’d only need it for the grounds below outside your window. From now until around eleven.
Okay.
Well, if he was going to visit tomorrow, that meant she had to observe the patrol schedule right now. So much for sleep.
The things I do for that man, she thought. Then, smiling: He’s worth it.
She weakly sidled out of her bunk and went to the window. She could hear Michelle
snoring, already fast asleep.
Ariel removed the wet robes from the clotheslines and let them hang on the windowsill instead so that she had a better view of the grounds below, then she stayed there for an hour, observing. She noted the times of the patrols, as well as the position of the sentries on the wall, and sent them to Jett in a series of texts. She watched from ten to eleven, and finally when the hour mark rolled past, she sent Jett a final text and crawled back into bed. She realized she had left the robes hanging on the windowsill, and swore softly, getting up to put them back on the clotheslines before collapsing back into the bunk.
The next day, Friday, started with intense calisthenics. Push-ups, sit-ups, push-ups again. Then a five mile jog circling the Tower grounds. She used the opportunity to take pictures of the inner wall and its defenses, taking care not to draw attention to herself. She sent everything to Jett using her encrypted sat-phone before the jog was done.
Do you need me to include the location of each picture? Ariel asked in a text.
No, Jett responded. You’ve included the GPS metadata along with each photo, so I know where you took them all.
Oh, I didn’t even know I was doing that.
It’s the default behavior for all camera phones.
“What are you doing?” Walter asked, coming alongside her in the jog.
Ariel instantly pocketed the phone.
“Halt!” Walter yelled.
The First Year troop came to a stop.
“Were you just texting?” Walter asked.
“Uh…” Ariel said.
“Let me see you’re phone,” Walter ordered.
Ariel reached into her right pocket and retrieved the Tower’s phone. She prayed he didn’t notice the lump of the sat-phone in her other pocket.
Walter snatched the Tower phone from her and began accessing the text message archive.
On the other side of her she noticed Ked was staring at her robe… at the sat-phone lump. His eyes momentarily locked with hers. He knew.
Walter frowned, probably because on the Tower phone there were only the texts she had sent her classmates to get their numbers.
“Do you have another phone?” Walter asked.
“No,” Ariel lied.
From beside her, she could feel Ked’s gaze on her, but the bear shifter didn’t say anything.
Walter eyed her suspiciously, then returned the phone. “Going forward, there is to be no texting during physical training, nor during chores. Otherwise your phone will be confiscated and returned at the end of the day. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” Ariel said.
“Good,” Walter said. “Now we’re going to do another two laps because Ariel here couldn’t keep her hands off her phone.”
There were a few groans but otherwise the apprentices knew it wasn’t her fault. How could it be, when Walter kept throwing out new rules at them, almost seeming to make them up as he went along?
The rest of the day proved a repeat, chore wise, of the previous. Ariel did menial tasks along with the other newcomers.
“You know, I always thought hard, physical labor would be one of the last things we’d doing here,” Brian said. “Witches are supposed to be masters of the mind. And yet here we are doing push-ups and five mile runs in the mornings, and then scrubbing floors and murals for the rest of the day.”
“And there you have the illusion,” Walter said, overhearing. “Masters of the mind… many apprentice Wayfarers fall into that trap. But before you can truly master the mind, you must master the body. Because mind and body are one. Until you stop separating the two, and treat them as a single entity, you are not ready to learn the intricacies of the Strength. A feeling in the body is an indication of a disruption in the mind’s equilibrium. You feel butterflies in your stomach when you are in love. Why do you think that is? You feel a weight on your shoulders, you have a hunch in your gut. Mind and body. They are not separate. They are one. You are your body. It is a simple concept, but one that new apprentices rarely grasp. Too much societal conditioning. Just as a newly turned shifter must learn to overcome instincts, you must relearn what you think you know about the mind.”
As the day began to wind down, Ariel couldn’t help the trepidation she felt. She should have been excited about the chance to see Jett, but she was more worried about him getting caught than anything else. She didn’t think the witches could permanently hurt him while he was uncollared, not after what she had seen him do against the undead Orions, but she felt certain they could do some damage. And if they somehow managed to collar him, it would be all over.
After supper, she returned to the room she shared with Michelle. Her friend talked on the Tower phone with her parents back in the US. Ariel meanwhile pulled out her sat-phone and called Jett.
“Hey, I’m almost there,” he said immediately after picking up.
“Maybe this isn’t the best idea…” Ariel said.
“You think I’m going to stop now after coming all this way?” Jett said.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“They can’t hurt me,” Jett said. “In fact, the witches have more to fear from me than I do of them.”
“Oh really?” Ariel said. “Did you know they have a mural on the ceiling of the grand hall just inside the entrance of the tower? It’s the first thing visitors see when they enter. It shows a witch facing down a dragon at the head of a vampire army.”
“Interesting,” Jett said.
“Yes,” Ariel said. “Obviously the Wayfarers put it there to show they’re not afraid of dragons.”
“Actually, I believe it’s there to commemorate a certain war,” Jett said.
“Really?” Ariel said. “Tell me what you know...”
“Centuries ago, Gregor, the dragon king of Western Europe, allied with Raquel, vampire queen of Africa, and waged a decades-long war against the Wayfarers. The other dens and coves, North America included, remained neutral. Gregor had trained in the Steel Tower, you see, and the Wayfarers refused to let him go his own way. He wasn’t very happy. Hence the war, which ended only when the Wayfarers agreed he no longer had any obligation to serve them. He’s the only member of the Council of Seven who is also a witch.”
“Oh,” Ariel said. “And here I thought the mural was meant to show the witches weren’t afraid of you. Either that, or they considered all dragons and vampires their enemies.”
“They do, in a sense,” Jett said. “The members of the Council of Seven are always probing each other, looking for weaknesses. If each of them could, they’d topple the lairs of the other six and assume control over their territory. It’s a tenuous alliance we have with one another.”
“I can see why you were growing a bit weary of the throne,” Ariel said.
“It’s definitely a burden,” Jett said. “Maintaining the alliances, plus all the intrigue in your own court, it gets to you after a couple hundred years. Gabriel certainly has his work cut out for him. Good thing I let him practice a few times before completely dumping North America in his lap.” She heard what sounded like a car door slamming. “Okay, Flame just parked. I’m on my way on foot. When I reach the wall surrounding the grounds, I’m going to wait until ten o’clock and then I’m climbing over. Thanks for sharing the guard patrols with me. Not to mention all those pictures. I have a pretty good idea where I need to go, and when.”
“Okay, but please be careful, all right?” Ariel said.
“I have no intention of putting your training in jeopardy,” Jett said. “If I get caught, I’ll tell them I was here for a different reason. To spy on the tower or something.”
“You’ve got it all wrong,” Ariel said. “It’s not me or my training I’m worried about.”
13
Jett hung up shortly thereafter. He was touched by Ariel’s concern, but unless the witches could collar him, he was essentially immune to any Weaves they might throw at him. Still, he had to be careful, if only to protect Ariel: He meant what he said about not put
ting her training in danger. If he was spotted by a guard or something, he’d flee immediately.
He reached the immense wall that encircled the tower grounds and hung out in the shadows beneath it. When ten o’clock rolled around, he very slightly relaxed the power that constrained him in human form, and allowed the miniature version of his wings to emerge from his body. Those powerful appendages passed through folds specifically cut into the back of his dress shirt for that very purpose.
He flapped his unfurled wings in a figure-eight pattern, tightening the muscles near the edges to bend the skin there, which had the effect of muting the sound made by his motions.
He ascended toward the upper walkway, making for an area free of sentries. He slowed as he neared the top. Ribbons of razor wire lined the outer edge of the walkway, preventing a climber from surmounting the stone railing without injury. Thankfully, he wasn’t a climber.
Flapping softly, he ascended higher until he could peer past the railing and onto the walkway itself. He glanced in either direction: no sentries were in view along the top of the wall.
He flew over the handrail and landed on the walkway. Crouching, he retracted his wings and moved toward the inner side to gaze down into the Tower grounds. Ariel had sent him the Thursday night patrols from ten to eleven, and he had no reason to believe the route or schedule would change on Friday nights, but he planned to wait for the first patrol to confirm that.
Five minutes later the guards appeared on schedule, following the path Ariel had described. So far, so good.
When they were gone, Jett lowered lifted himself over the edge and then dropped. He extended his wings to slow his ascent and landed as softly as he could, though the resulting thud and rustle of branches were still a bit louder than he would have liked. He forced the wings back inside of himself and then moved deeper into the shadows, waiting a few minutes to ensure no one had noticed his landing. When he was satisfied that his entrance remained undetected, he headed deeper into the courtyard.