Fayden stood and followed my gaze.
In the distance, a white column pierced the sky. From so far away, it looked reed thin and frighteningly lonely in the gold and red and russet foliage, but it must have been so, so strong. I couldn’t find the top of it, even though the sky was clear and blue. It was like a beam of light shot into the sky, infinite and unearthly. It sang to me, calling me closer. For the first time since we’d left the old city, something like music stirred inside of me.
“It must be enormous,” said Fayden. “To be visible from this distance.”
Before and behind us, wagons rolled to a stop as everyone climbed onto the roofs to stare.
A white wall ran around the soaring tower, surrounded by a thick forest, all vibrant with coming winter. I’d never seen such an array of autumn shades by the old city, but here the trees shone copper in the sunlight. Everything down there looked so perfect and still, like a painting.
Mist or steam floated near the wall, a ghostly sight that made me shiver. Just as I was about to ask where the vapor came from, water shot into the sky, shattering the stillness. I imagined the eruption of water was loud, but from this distance, it was all silent.
“What is this place?” Fayden whispered.
“This is it,” came the voices from ahead. “This is where Janan is being held.”
I stared at the white tower, struggling against the tide of awe that washed through me. What had captured Janan? What had imprisoned him in that? Janan must have done something truly terrible to earn this fate.
Slowly, the wagons wound down the old road. Mountains rose like jagged teeth around us.
From this high point of the road, I could see the first wagons reaching a forested plateau. They headed toward the white wall, which looked immense even from so far away. The wagons looked so tiny underneath its shadow.
“I can’t believe we’re finally here,” said Fayden. “What do you think will happen?”
What made him think I had any idea? But I just shook my head and called Stef up to look, and the three of us stood atop the wagon together, watching our future grow ever nearer as we descended the mountain.
It took all day for the last of the wagons to reach the plateau, and purple dusk crept over the sky as the sun vanished beneath the high mountain peaks. The roads here had been worn away long ago—if there ever had been roads here—and the forest made navigating in the wagons difficult.
Wolves howled in the distance, and birds squawked at our passage. Though it was cold and everyone was exhausted, we pushed through the woods, trampling undergrowth. Everything was flattened by the time my wagon reached it.
Only a full, heavy moon illuminated the landscape; it was too closed in for torches. Scouts and guards vanished in and out of the woods, calling instructions and locations. In spite of the unfamiliar surroundings, everyone seemed in good cheer. We’d arrived.
And above everything, the white tower rose, a pale shadow on the sky, visible only because of the moonlight.
“Everyone thinks that’s where he’s being kept,” said Fayden.
“Everyone?” I rolled my eyes. As if he’d had a chance to poll the entire Community and ask what they thought about the tower. But it seemed likely; it was the only structure here. It didn’t appear old enough to be pre-Cataclysm, and if the enemy Meuric kept talking about was as powerful as he’d said, no doubt they could have constructed this tower . . . this prison.
The wagons ahead of us began to slow as the Council’s warriors waved them into spaces. “Here! Put your wagon here!”
In a wide field near the shining lake I’d seen from the mountains, the warriors organized everyone into ranks. Everyone had a tiny amount of land to spread out for the night, to put out their tents or sleeping pallets.
Stef climbed off the wagon and vanished inside to help his aunts. “Want to see if we can find someone who knows what’s going on?” I asked, stripping off the cloth covering half my face. “It’ll be a little while before supper is ready.”
“Sure.” Fayden poked his head into the wagon to let Stef and his aunts know where we were going, and then we headed deeper into the camp.
Everywhere people bustled back and forth, gossiping and pointing at the tower rising in the distance.
“What do you think is in there?” a man asked.
“What built it is a better question.” His wife stared upward, mouth dropped open. “Was it already here when they trapped Janan inside of it? Or did they build it specifically for him?” She shook her head. “It’s incredible.”
They were good questions—and I couldn’t even guess the answers.
“There are holes that shoot water out of them,” said another person as we passed.