Page 83 of Sparktopia
“Oh!” This comes out of my mouth as I grab the railing and look up, pointing. “He’s trying to hurt me! Someone stophim!”
Then I continue my descent as he yells obscenities at me. People have stopped on the steps, confused, trying to sort out what is happening. But in my experience, people only want to know what’s happening if it’s something they can passivelywatch and don’t have to get involved in. Something they can gossip about later. As soon as you start asking them to actuallydosomething, they tend to pretend they can’t hear you.
And we have both asked for help.
What to do now?
Even if this Tyse is some well-known, well-respected figure in this place, I’m a woman. Scantily clad, at that. And I’m running away from him.
They’re not gonna stop me.
They’re not gonna stop him, either. He really does look like a man you do not want to piss off. But I don’t care. I’ve got a lead. And that’s what I concentrate on. Getting down these stairs as fast as I can and escaping.
The lobby is suddenly in view. Ground level. A daytime view outside. Hundreds of people, and something that might be a little indoor market that comes off as very down-city.
Then I am out of steps. And confused. Because Tyse said he found me below ground and there are no more steps. I look both left and right, trying to find a way forward in the few seconds I have before he catches up with me, but there are no options but left or right or out of the building.
I head towards the exit, pushing my way through a thick crowd of people waiting in a haphazard line for something at a booth.
Tyse is calling my name again. “Clara! Stop!”
I don’t stop. I push past a final crowd and make a dash for the exit. Then I am running under the great arches—andthisis what makes me halt, turn, and look up.
Because Iknowthis archway.
When I last saw it, there was a massive black door covering the opening, but this is it. This is the door to the God’s Tower. The very one I walked through.
My eyes slowly crawl up the building, taking in all the familiar details. Then I look around and realize I’m standing on the God’s Tower stage, except the smooth, polished stone floor that I remember is now cracked, and crumbling, and looking very ancient.
Then I see the city. I saw it last night, but it was dark, and lit up, and nothing like it looks right now.
I’m so stunned, my mouth drops open. I haven’t moved. I’m standing in the center of the archway and people are flowing past me like I’m a rock in a river. But then they start pushing me. Snarling at me.
“Get out of the way.”
“Move along!”
Then there is a hand on my arm. And when I look up, those unnaturally lit-up blue eyes are looking back at me. He doesn’t say anything, just sighs and pulls me over to the right, getting me out of the flood of people.
I am taken to a spot that I am very familiar with because this was where I stood each and every time I was on this stage watching a friend walk through that same door I just came out of.
The hope dies. Instantly. There is no going back. There is no saving my old life.
I just walked through the tower god’s door.
That was my plan, wasn’t it?
And this place, this city—it’s not my Tau City.
“Here. Sit.” Tyse is pointing to a step. Which is the exact same step the Matrons stood on during the Extraction last night.
I don’t sit. Instead I take a look around. A good look around. From ten stories up I could tell it was some kind of ruin, but from the ground I see it for what it really is. The Maiden Tower—what’s left of it, anyway—is directly on my right. Most of the tower is gone. There’s no roof. But the archways above the doorsare familiar. I look up, counting the floors. My floor is missing. Just sky. But that’s where I lived. Hundreds of years ago, apparently.
I look back down, my gaze wandering over to the bridge that spans the canal—which is not filled with cyan-blue water, but something much darker—and ending at the Extraction Tower on my left. Finn’s tower. Or rather, where it would’ve been. Because this one is just a foundation.
Finally, I look straight down the canal. The banks used to be sandy, and pretty, and lined with sandstone boulders with little waterfalls spilling over them in some places. But these banks are made of some building material I can’t even name. It looks unnatural and cold. Nothing but smooth, sharp edges.
Just like the new towers that have replaced the white conical ones with sun-bleached blue domes that I remember. They are tall—very, very tall. Much taller than anything from my Tau City. And they look like spikes. So many of them, all clustered together. So close I get a feeling of claustrophobia just looking at them. Some of them are made of glass and glimmer in the dull sunlight like mirrors. Others are made of that same smooth material acting as banks on the canal. I can count at least a dozen bridges, but they are not the simple ones my feet used to travel across. There are two-wheeled machines I’ve never seen before with people on them, going every which way.
