In Tower's Shadow

Chapter 3 (The Tower)

As it happened, though someone came to visit, nightfall was far more interesting. The officer returned, but he only came to give her food and – thank Aric – some pencils. Sarah had made a handful of notes on the map, but without being able to read the rest of the articles, she was confined to the two she could read plus what she had seen. Still. It was a start. What else was she going to do?

At last, however, the shadows lengthened and consumed the city entirely, and the daylight came to a rest wherever they stored it. An officer she hadn't seen before came down and put out the lights after checking all the doors. They probably had a night force that she would have to deal with if she chose to look around upstairs.

Well, it should be dark enough now. She looked at her hand. Sure enough, it had lost its color and she could see right through it. Moreover, the sleeve of her shirt now had large shreds in it. A quick look confirmed that she was the same all over. Perfect. She poked her head through the door and stole a look down the hallway. No one. She stepped all the way through and made her way upstairs.

They said that in the wild unexplored corners of the world lived horrible monsters and ghouls that could steal souls. "They" were wrong, as far as she knew. The creatures couldn't touch the soul, but they could steal the body, or at least, most of it. She still had some of hers left, but not enough to prevent her from walking through walls as long as it was dark enough, metal arm and all. This was severance, a pseudo-curse all her own.

There were, unfortunately, people at work in the office. Two or three clerks still worked at those machines, and a guard leaned lazily against the wall, inspecting his firearm. Worse, they had lamps going. Firelight and daylight restored her body as long as it hit her. She walked a little way down the stairs, estimating where the first floor was. Here was as good a spot as anywhere. Hopefully there wasn't too much light on the other side of the wall...

She came out in what looked like a storeroom, about five decimeters above the floor. There were crates piled high in no particular rhyme or reason, all stuffed with letters and packages. So this must be one of the rooms for the post, on the ground floor of this building. Well, there should be plenty of exits, then. Sure enough, there was a row of doors on the far side of the room, probably leading to the teller alcoves. She chose one at random and found that the alcove had a metal sheet pulled down over the window. Fortunately, it didn't meet exactly. She put her head against the desk and looked out through one eye. No one around, and the streetlights weren't quite bright enough here. Perfect. She closed her eyes and let herself roll through the desk and the front wall and leapt up quickly on the other side. Still no one. She gave herself a boost – how much further one could get when one didn't have an entire body to propel! – and sailed up to the top of the post. Now, time to actually get a good look at this city.

The world was so much nicer at night. All the bright lights and harsh colors faded and softened into the nice, calm muted tones that let you really see the world as it was. And this city was, now that she could see it at night from a rooftop, something truly spectacular. When she had first crashed here, the city had been a shining nightmare, and after that she had taken a fever and seen nothing of it. Here, it gave Starfall itself a run for brilliance. The city's tall, pointed forms became a crystal field, sparkling with the streetlights and lanternlights. The lights were whiter here than any she had seen, and it let the contrast grow to an even higher level of brilliance. Towards the center, she could see the towering forms of the University, built on other structures and sprawling like a climbing rose given free reign, and the two clocktowers. They would probably give her an even better view.

She set off, running along rooftops and boosting with ease over large streets, no longer caring if anyone saw her. She was a ghost, a fireside tale come to life. What could mere people do to a story? As she went, she made cursory note of how the city was laid out. It looked like, by and large, main streets were organized like the spokes of the wheel, with other subsidiary streets forming loose rings. When one got closer to the center of Twil, however, the streets reformed themselves into a rough grid pattern. The railway, usually elevated above the street level, refused to follow either pattern of logic. Instead, it meandered around according to its own whims. She could respect that, although it probably meant that the city planners ought to be discharged. At any rate, she would not be paying attention to it. Tonight, the rooftops were a much safer place.