The Tower Builders, Book Two

Can We Even Try?

"Sit tight here for a sec."

Words like that sound like they mean someone will be right back, but that was the last I saw of Brad that day. He ran off and started talking with a bunch of people, leaving me alone in the car.

"Home," he had called this. What the Abyss was that supposed to mean? This wasn't his home; I'd been to his apartment a few times and it sure wasn't way out in the boonies like this. But with town overrun, was there even an apartment to go back to? For either of us?

He had told me this was a refuge his church had set up. What kind of church does things like that? He and Felicity went to the same church and neither of them seemed the "apocalyptic cultist" or "let's go join a religious commune" type.

Then again, we were hiding out here for a reason.

And why had Kayla been out here before? No way she'd ever take the Meþas stuff seriously. Knowing her I'd almost suspect she'd been snooping around and spying on Brad, but that can't be it; he didn't seem surprised to hear she knew.

I didn't know what to do, so I stuck around in the car for the next few hours, just waiting, all alone with my thoughts and my emotions, vacillating between thinking Brad would come back at any moment, irrationally worrying that I'd never see him again, and occasionally hoping I'd never have to see him ever again.

That last one wasn't me. That was her. She loathed Brad, hated him like I've never felt her hate anybody. Except, occasionally, me.

Daddy had run away so he wouldn't hurt me. Would I have to run away some day so I—so she—wouldn't hurt Brad?

Finally I heard someone tapping on my window. I looked up and saw Kayla looking in at me, so I opened the door.

"Why are you just sitting around brooding in here like this?"

I gave her a dismissive little back-hand wave. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to keeping myself company."

"Yeah, no," she said. "That was Old Joanna, the timid, quiet engineer who'd bury herself in projects all day and hide in the corner during team meetings. New Joanna is so much better; don't you go bringing Old Joanna back when we need New Joanna."

"Hey! Don't talk to me like that!"

She shook her head. "No, I'm serious. I'm supposed to be keeping morale up, and you've got enough gloom around you for three kith."

"What, someone put you in charge of morale?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Actually yes. It's kind of official."

"Wow, seriously? Who did that?"

She leaned in and lowered her voice. "The local lord. Guy by the name of Gentleman Webb."

My eyes must have just about bugged out. "Wait, WHAT?"

"I know, right? This is Brad's land, his castle. He tell you on the way over that this was a church project? Well all the church folks are deferring to him."

"Wow, uhh... any reasonable day, that would be the craziest thing I've heard all month. Today, though? I dunno if it even cracks the top five."

"Oh, you haven't even heard half of it. But that can wait. Come on, get up, I need some help."

"What do you mean?"

"There are families here. You've got scared children all over the place trying hard to keep it together because Mommy or Daddy told them to be brave. I'm serious when I said I need New Joanna; a wildly cheerful snuggle-monster would be exactly what those kids need. Me, honestly I relate way better to adults, but I think you could really help reassure the children."

"I'm not really feeling wildly cheerful right now."

She gave me a little smirk. "Who said you have to feel it? First rule of being a bard: the show must go on. Get in character, do your thing anyway, and even if the performance doesn't flow from your feelings, if you get it right the feelings will flow from the performance."

"But I'm not a bard!"

"Then you should trust my expertise on this. Go out there and start giving some hugs, and you'll end up feeling like giving more hugs soon enough."

I gave her a slow nod. "You sure?"

"One thing I'm absolutely sure of: it'll be better than sitting around all alone in a car, moping. Come on, over that way you'll find some kids who really need some cheering up," she said, pointing.

With a sigh, I got up. "All right, but if this doesn't work I'm going to super-extra mope all over you." I started walking in between some buildings and out into the village. It wasn't far before I saw a little blonde-haired boy, couldn't have been older than six, standing around looking all worried, his lip quivering, visibly blinking back tears.

I took a deep breath and put on my best smile, walking up to him. "Hey there, where are your parents?"

The boy looked up at me with big eyes and pointed off towards a group of adults clustered together, talking with each other. "Mommy's busy," he said, "and Daddy's still at work."

Oh no. Was that what his mom had told him? I crouched down to look him in the eyes. "What's your name?"

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"Jared," he said, sniffling a little.

"Jared. I'm Joanna. Do you need a hug?" I opened my arms for him, and he stepped up and wrapped his arms around me, squeezing tight with a sustained grunt-growl the way only little kids can really do. I hugged him back, holding the little guy.

"Joanna? I'm scared."

I petted his hair to soothe him. "I know. A lot of people are." Then a thought hit me. As long as I had to do this... "You know what will help you not be so scared?"

"Hmm?"

I pulled back and smiled at him. "Go find more kids who are scared, and hug them. Tell them to pass it on, and give out more hugs."

He sniffled and nodded, then scampered off. I started looking around for another kid to comfort, and was annoyed to realize I was actually looking forward to it. Stupid Kayla. Why'd she have to be right about this?

* * *

Seeing your life's work come to fruition should be cause for rejoicing. Here it was, a literal, physical bulwark of protection against evil. Here I was, surrounded by those my decades of preparation had saved from death or enslavement, in the company of two of the most powerful beings in the kingdom, and they were speaking respectfully with me rather than deriding me.

Why then was there no rejoicing in my heart?

There were so few here. Over a hundred thousand kith in the city that was my home, and we'd managed to pluck less than one half of one percent of them out of the hand of evil, and many of them weren't even of my congregation. The reports I was hearing from the refugees, from John Mitchell, and from Dyralist were bleak; the goblins were rampaging through Sharliya, killing and enslaving its citizens by the tens of thousands. And all I had to show for decades of effort was a scant few hundred.

Oh, my lord Meþas, where did I go wrong? What could I have done that I did not do, that would have led me to save more?

I cried out to him in my heart, but there was no answer. I yearned to ask him directly, to pour out my soul to the man standing not ten feet away, but he had already made it clear that to attempt to do so would be fruitless. Who was this "Gareth," and what had he done to my god?

I searched my soul, heart, and mind, combing all three for anything resembling an answer, any words of comfort, any indication or confirmation that the path I was on was the right one. And somehow I came up entirely blank.

Meþas had entrusted me with a lifelong quest. I undertook it, wading through the persecutions and heartaches that came along the way, staying true to the truth of the Path at every step, and my faith had seen me through. Somehow, against all odds, I had completed my quest.

Now what?

For the first time in my adult life, I had not even the slightest semblance of an answer to that question.

* * *

A dull, throbbing sensation pressed at the base of my horn, almost like a headache. Exactly like a headache, really, except without the pain. There was simply pressure.

Hello? Who calls?

The drylanders thought that the horn was only to speak to the spirits of extraplanar beings. I was in no great hurry to strip away their ignorance from them.

Mokitaro calls, came a mind-voice from far across the globe.

Brother! How fare you?

A good deal better than you, brother. Is it true, that

the uru'timai have finally risen?

Why do you sound surprised? We have known all

along that this day was coming.

Yes, but did we ever expect you would be caught in

the middle of it? Why have you not come home yet?

I sighed to myself. Mokitaro was as strong and loving a brother as any man could with for, but there were times when he seemed to forget that I was indeed a man, and not a youngling in need of shelter in his shadow any longer. I don't know if he ever learned just how large the difference is between being four years older than your brother at ten years old, and at a hundred.

Brother, I am home. The Home Waters will always

be my heart's alotara, but the Empire has treated

me well, brought me honor and success. Although

times are perilous right now, "does every flood not

recede?"

That was not what I meant when I wrote that poem,

brother.

I know. It is a thing I have learned from living in the

Empire: words of poetry can have a meaning that

an audience can read and understand, find within

the poem, that was not what the author intended.

And yet if it makes sense to the audience, is it not

valid?

Of course not! What if some fool applied the same

principle to the words of the shamans? "Oh, I do

not care for the meaning of this dictum, so I will find

a new meaning that makes better sense to me."

Chaos!

They have a different understanding of Chaos here

as well, brother.

Do you abandon our ways entirely?

Not at all; I honor them. Do our breeders not mix

together different lineages of creatures to produce

greater, stronger offspring? So also do I mix

together our ideas and the learning of the Empire

into a stronger philosophy. We cannot think of

ourselves as the only culture on Mundus to achieve

some degree of enlightenment.

You always were a strange one, brother.

Of course I was. By definition, a normal, average

Leialepa'sina'ka'ui cannot be Apogee; why then

should any be surprised that one who achieves this

height is odd in their ways?

I worry for you still, in a strange and distant land that

finds itself under such dire threat.

We are not children anymore, brother. I am Apogee

now. For years you protected me; now it is my turn.

Relax, let your heart be at peace. I am doing my job

here, for my old home and also my new. I have

accomplished much, but my work is not yet complete.

When it is, you will return to us?

The Empire is my home, brother. I will return, but it

will be to visit.

I suppose that is better than nothing. I love you,

brother. I miss you. We all miss you.

I miss you too, and I love you and my family. Be well.

And you as well. Be well, and be safe.

Safe. If only he knew. But how could he? He had never lived in the Empire, had never seen how impossible it was to prioritize my own safety and still do the vital work of Apogee.

* * *

Oh crap. Joanna!

With all the commotion going on of trying to organize dozens of details, somehow I'd entirely forgotten about her. I rushed back to the car, but she wasn't there. Of course not; why would I think she'd sit around in the car just waiting for hours? Stupid! But knowing where she wasn't didn't help figure out where she was.

OK, stop panicking. Think. Someone had to know where she was. Night was falling. She'd seek shelter like anyone else. Brother Jenkins was coordinating housing assignments, and he's right over... there.

"Can I help you, Brother Webb?" he asked as I approached.

"Just trying to find someone. One of the people from Dyralight, Joanna Cooper."

He shook his head. "Too many new names today. What's she look like?"

"Hard to miss; probably the only red-skinned tiefling around here. Wears a long dress, and gloves with the fingertips exposed."

"Oh, the lady with all the kids? She never came by for a housing assignment. If you want to find her, look over that way, by the bonfire."

The lady with all the kids? What the abyss was that supposed to mean? "Thanks," I said, walking off towards the eastern wall, where I could see the flickering glow of firelight reflected.

I came around a building and saw a truly strange sight. Someone had built a big, roaring fire, with what had to be forty children sitting around it, arranged in two arcing lines, singing songs and watching in rapt attention as the gloved hands of one single adult wove vivid illusions, characters dancing in the firelight, acting out the lyrics. At the end of each song, everyone in the inner arc would step forward and share a big hug with their counterpart in the outer arc, and then everyone would rotate one place to the right and sing another song.

I watched this odd ritual for a few songs, hanging back in the shadow of the building, wondering what on Mundus was going on there and how Joanna of all people had ended up leading it! But everyone seemed happy, and I didn't want to interrupt.

It wasn't like she had work in the morning and needed her sleep, afterall. I could talk with her tomorrow.