Time inside the tower seemed to be a law to itself, each minute feeling like an hour, each day an eternity of harsh words, demands of the impossible, and then pain. So much pain. According to the world outside, only five weeks had passed. To Lewis, it felt closer to five years. The only time that seemed to pass quickly was that which he spent with Edward. Unfortunately, that was also the only good time he had. It also only came around twice a week.

Edward was the third of his three teachers at the tower, specialising in the historical and theoretical sides of the precursors. Unlike Veronica and Ellen, he allowed Lewis to ask questions, which, on many occasions, led to conversations that had nothing to do with what he was supposed to be teaching. From the moment he arrived at Lewis' first lesson with him, all of fifteen minutes later, it was obvious that he was as nice as Olivia had said.

Like her, he believed in a free approach to teaching. Consequently, he had actually managed to teach Lewis more about his practical abilities in one lesson than Veronica and Ellen had managed between them in five weeks. If it hadn't been for him, he was sure that what could now only be called torture would have been even worse.

As it was, he had found himself once again walking back to his room with blood still leaking from his wounds beneath his white cloak. The moment he shut the door behind him, he pulled the cloak off and threw it aside as he began searching for the bottle that Olivia had given him on his first day.

'What the hell happened to you?' someone shouted. Looking up, he saw Cassandra standing by the window, her mouth hanging open as she stared at his blood-covered torso. In all the weeks he had been at the tower, he had never let her see the damage that The Dawn was doing to him. Normally she was out of the room when his lessons finished, so he had been able to clean himself up and get changed before she returned. He hadn't been expecting her to be here, and desperate to clean the blood off and apply the healing liquid, he hadn't noticed her.

'It's nothing,' he lied, trying to wave her away as he grabbed the bottle and made for the adjoining bathroom.

'This is not nothing,' she insisted, grabbing his arm before she saw the burns. When she did, she instantly let go out of fear that she might be hurting him. 'What's that?'

'It helps them heal,' he sighed, giving in. He might as well be honest now that she has seen all the scars and open wounds.

'Here, let me,' she said, gently taking the bottle from him and easing him over to the bed. Uncorking it, she sat down beside him. When he saw that she was unsure what to do next, he took the bottle, tipping a little of the liquid on to his finger, and started gently rubbing it on the open wounds, grimacing as it stung. Copying him, Cassandra began applying it to his skin as well. 'Who did this?'

'These ones, Ellen,' he said, gesturing to the fresh cuts.

'That bitch! When I get my hands on her, I'll- ‘

'No,' Lewis insisted, cutting across her sharply. 'You can't.'

'She can't keep doing this to you,' Cassandra said.

'Yes, she can. If you do anything, she'll do this to you as well,' he said. 'I'm not going to let that happen.'

'You have to do something! Can't you go to Christine?' she asked.

'Olivia did that on the first day when she saw my teachers, and that only made things worse. Besides, I haven't seen her around the tower in weeks.'

It had been the best part of three weeks since he had last seen Christine. Before that, he had always seen her around at meal times, but she hadn't been in the dining hall lately. He had figured that perhaps she had gone away for some reason.

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'Can't Olivia do anything?'

'You saw how Ellen treated her before we got to the tower,' he replied. 'I don't want to get her involved in this as well.'

'Please just do something,' Cassandra begged from behind him. From applying the liquid in the mirror daily, he knew that his back looked far worse than his chest. Dissatisfied with the straps, Ellen had begun using something that resembled a cape made of chains that burned the skin on his back.

'There isn't anything I can do,' he sighed, hanging his head tiredly. He wanted nothing more than to be as far from the tower as possible. After the hours of torture, he could almost feel the sting now when he thought about freedom.

'Try, please. I don't want to see you go through this anymore,' she said, her voice cracking. Turning as her hands disappeared from his back, he saw tears rolling down her cheeks. 'You can't go on like this forever.'

'I have to. Whatever I try to do will only make it worse. What if they come after you?' said Lewis as she tried to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand.

'You don't have to do this on your own,' she whispered. One moment she was sitting back wiping her eyes; the next she was extremely close to him, so close that he could see the tears clinging to her eyelashes.

Cassandra, he muttered. A second later, he was silenced when her lips found his, kissing him desperately as if she thought the wounds were going to kill him there and then. For a moment, he forgot all about the scars on his body. It was like he was back at Fir Lodge with Emily on one of those hot Sky Fire days.

But he wasn't at Fir Lodge, and the person pressed against him wasn't Emily. Turning his head, Lewis pushed her away from him. He didn't even spare Cassandra a look as he got up. Grabbing the cloak from the floor, he pulled it on and headed for the door.

'I'm sorry,' she called after him desperately. He ignored her, leaving the door to swing shut behind him as he set off down the corridor.

Lost in his thoughts, he wandered aimlessly. How could Cassandra do that to him? She knew all about Emily. He had made that perfectly clear from the start. Then again, a tiny part of him thought, it would be nice to have someone who was there for him, someone who understood what he was going through.

In the end, he stopped walking, slumping against a wall and sliding down it until he was sitting on the cold stone floor. What has he done? How could he go back to that room and face Cassandra now?

'Lewis?' someone asked.

Looking up, he found Russell standing over him with a concerned look on his face. Lewis hadn't heard him coming. Had he been standing there long? How long had he been sitting there? 'Russel, sorry.'

'It's alright; it's good to know you're still in there, though. I thought I had lost you then,' he said with a laugh. 'What are you doing up here?'

'Where am I?' he asked. Looking around, he realised that he didn't recognise this part of the tower.

'Floor thirty-one,' he replied. 'Four floors above where students are allowed.'

Floor thirty-one? He hadn't realised he had climbed that many flights of stairs. 'What are you doing if students aren't allowed up here?' he asked.

For a moment, Russell considered him. Leaning against the wall, he allowed himself to slide down next to Lewis. 'I was looking for Olivia,' he admitted quietly. 'She didn't show up for our lesson earlier. I got worried; that isn't like her.'

'Did you find her?'

'No.'

'I'm sure she is around somewhere,' Lewis said.

'I think she might be in trouble; I saw something,' he said, glancing in both directions down the corridor.

'What do you mean?'

'I saw an image—well, a flash of one. She was lying on the floor in a dark, dusty room,' he said.

'Wait, you're a Seer Precursor? I thought they could only be female?' Lewis said.

'I'm a prophet; you can call it what you want, though,' Russell said defensively. 'Every rule has its exceptions, though.'

'Have you told anyone about this?' asked Lewis. Now that Russell mentioned it, he doesn't remember seeing Olivia at all today or at dinner last night, for that matter. Could something have happened to her?

'No,' he said, getting to his feet. 'I think I'll go ponder the vision in the garden. Maybe something else will come to me.'

Without another word, he wandered off down the corridor. Should he tell someone about Russell's vision? Who could he tell? After Cassandra, not that she would be able to do much to help, the obvious choice was Edward. There was only one problem, though: he had no idea where he would be. He couldn't go knocking on every door looking for him. Students weren't even allowed to be up here. Getting to his feet, he looked out the small window. It was getting dark outside. He must have sat on the floor for longer than he had thought.

Who else could he turn to? What about Christine? He knew where her office was, and it was on a floor where he was allowed to be. But he hadn't seen her in weeks; what if she was away? Either way, he needed to get off this floor before someone found him. That much he knew. Not wanting to waste any more time, he hurried off in the direction Russell had disappeared.